Latest / Back Porch Confessions / DO YOU LIVE IN THE WORLD OF “USED TA COULD”?

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DO YOU LIVE IN THE WORLD OF “USED TA COULD”? · Back Porch Confessions

• Gravesb41: Sometimes my soul is just tired, tired of being strong, tired of carrying the heaviness, tired of fighting battles nobody else can see. And maybe you know that kind of tired too. The kind of tired that doesn't come from sleep, the kind of tired that settles deep in your heart, your mind and your spirit, the kind that comes from surviving, enduring, holding it all together and still showing up when your life had tried to take everything out of you. But here's the truth. Being tired does not mean you are weak, it does not mean you are broken, and it does not mean your story is over. At Renewed Mind we talk about the hard things, the hidden heaviness, the silent battles, the trauma, the grief, the healing, and the fight to keep going when your soul feels weary. This is the place where strong people can finally tell the truth, where healing gets honest, where pain is spoken out loud. And where the ones who have spent their whole lives pouring into others can find a space to breathe, be seen, and remember they are worth the battle too because sometimes the healer needs healing. Sometimes the strong ones need somewhere soft to land, and sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is admit you're tired and keep choosing to heal anyway. This is renewed mind, real talk, real pain, real healing. One honest conversation at a time. Welcome to Back Porch Confessions, where the sweet tea is strong, the stories are stronger, and no topic is too taboo for the porch. Grab a seat, kick off your shoes, and let's get into the kind of conversation your mama warned you about, but you listen anyway. Back Porch Confessions: Hello, hello everybody. Welcome to Back Porch Confessions. do you live in the world of used to could when who you used to be keeps you from loving who you are today? That is what I'm going to be talking on today. It's going to be hosted by me, the hostess with the most, Barbara McCormick. And so hey, hey everybody. it's Barbara and welcome to the Back Porch Confessions. Please bring on your cup of tea. your cup of brew, whatever it is that you're drinking out of right now, and listen up for just a minute. today I want to come on here and you know talk a little bit about the life of used to could and that conversation Think we all need to have it with ourselves. So let's have that conversation a minute with ourselves because today we're visiting that place, visiting that place that some of us know a little too well. A place where the roads are paved, the memories, the houses are built out of expectations, and everybody living there seems to have the same favorite sentence, which is: I used to could. Now, if you're from the South. Or know anybody that's southern or live in the country anywhere. I you already know exactly what I'm talking about. I used to could stay up all night. I used to could clean the whole house in one day. I used to could work 12 hours, come home, cook supper, take care of everybody, and still have enough energy to go out dancing. I used to could remember why I walked into a room. Now I walk into the kitchen and stand there looking around and wondering. If the good Lord sent me in here on a mission and forgot to give me the instructions. Or I just ignored or heard half of the instructions in the first place. So Another thing is, and this is I used to could, don't even get me started on this part, because when I get down on the floor and I want to play with the grands or something like that or look for Max's ball he's lost somewhere, I get down on the floor because I used to could sit on the floor without thinking about how I was going to get back up. Now, before I sit down, I need an exit strategy, a handrail, possibly even somebody standing by with a rescue plan. To get me up off the floor. But here's the thing: today isn't really about getting older. It's about something much deeper. It's about what happens when we spend so much time remembering who we used to be that we stop appreciating who we are today. It's about the woman who says, I used to be so confident. The man who says, I used to be so strong. The mother who says, I used to be needed. The person who says I used to have so much energy, the spouse who says we used to be so close, and the person who looks in the mirror and whispers I don't even recognize myself anymore? What happens when our memories become the measuring stick for which we measure our worth? What happens when we're so busy mourning the things we used to could do that we overlook everything we still can do? And what happens when life changes, but our expectations of ourselves refuse to change with it? What happens? That's what we're going to be talking about today. Because maybe, just maybe, the problem isn't that you can't do everything you used to do. Maybe the problem is that you're still expecting today's version of yourself to live by yesterday's rules. And let's just face it, that's exhausting. That's an exhausting way. To live. So welcome to the world of Used to Could. Let's figure out whether we're just visiting or whether we've accidentally made this our permanent address. So what is Used to Could? Let's start by defining what we're talking about. The world of Used to Could is the emotional place where we constantly compare our present abilities, relationships, bodies, accomplishments, identities. To the version we remember from the past. It's not simply nostalgia. Nostalgia can be beautiful. There's nothing wrong with remembering the good old days. There's nothing wrong with laughing about what we used to do. There's nothing wrong with missing a season of life. The problem begins when the past becomes the standard that the present can never s satisfy. Does that make sense? So I'm gonna say that again. The problem begins when the past becomes the standard that the present can never satisfy. And we start saying, I used to be better, I used to be happier, I used to be prettier, I used to be stronger, I used to be more productive, I used to have more patience, I used to have more friends, I used to have more purpose in life. And before we realize it, we start treating who we are today. some disappointing replacement for who we were yesterday. Here's the question though. Who decided the old version of you was the best version? Who decided your greatest value exited at 30 or 40? Or before you had children? Before your body changed? Or before you experienced any kind of loss? Maybe that version of you had strengths you miss. But maybe this version has the wisdom that the younger you desperately needed. Maybe the younger you could run faster. But today, today's when to stop running after things that aren't good for you, right? Maybe the younger you had more energy. But today's you understands the importance of peace. Maybe the younger you could tolerate more. But today's you finally understands that tolerating everything isn't necessarily strength. Think about that. So when does nostalgia become a prison that we live in? I love memories. I love music that takes me back. Give me some 80s and 90s music and suddenly I'm 17 years old again. In my mind, I'm dancing like nobody's watching. My knees, however, have submitted a formal complaint. And that's okay. Memories are wonderful places to visit, but they can become painful places to live. Because sometimes we remember the past through a filter. We remember the excitement, the freedom, the energy, the possibilities, but we forget the insecurities, the uncertainty, the heartbreak, the mistakes, the things we didn't understand, the nights that we cried ourselves to sleep, right? The relationships we begged to keep. We romanticized a season that we were c actually struggling to survive in. Isn't that something? We'll sit here today wishing we could go back 25 or more years. But if we really went back 25 years with everything that came with it, would we actually want to stay? Maybe we miss the body. Maybe we miss some sort of freedom that was attached in there. Maybe we miss the opportunities. But do we miss the emotional immaturity? The fear of what people thought? The need for approval was so strong, the lessons we hadn't learned yet? Sometimes we aren't missing our old life. We're missing a few pieces of it. And that's different. So what is something from your past you genuinely miss? And what is something from that same season you're grateful you no longer have to experience? Give both answers room to exist in your world. Give yourself time to answer those questions. So what happens when our body doesn't keep up with our mind? Let's talk about that, our bodies. Because this one is personal for a lot of people, especially personal for me, especially when you're living with chronic illness, pain, disabilities, hormonal changes, fatigue, or the physical effects of aging. Sometimes your mind still believes you're capable of everything you once did. Yeah, it's my twenty five year old mind showing up with my fifty year old body, right? You wake up thinking today I'm cleaning the house, doing laundry, running errands, cooking supper, working, organizing the closet, and maybe repainting that guest bedroom while I'm at it. Then your body shows up and says, excuse me, ma'am. We have approved approximately two of those activities. Please submit the remaining request in writing. And that's frustrating, right? Because you remember when you used to could. You remember not having to plan around energy. You remember when pain wasn't part of everyday decisions. And you remember when recovery didn't require three business days. Sometimes that frustration turns inward. You call yourself lazy. You tell yourself you're falling behind. You compare yourself to other people. Or worse, you compare yourself to a version of you that had completely different physical circumstances. But your body's changing abilities are not a moral failure. Needing rest does not make you lazy. Needing accommodations does not make you weak. And having limitations does not erase your value. There's a difference between giving up on yourself and adapting to your reality. So one might say nothing matters anymore. And the other one might say, My life still matters, and I'm going to find ways to participate in it that respects what my body needs. That's not defeat, that's adaptation. And adaptation is a form of strength, right? So what expectations are you placing on your body that no longer fit your circumstances? I I I have them on all the time. I give myself expectations to do this and to do that. And and sometimes I'm able to do a bunch of things in one day. But I can tell you the next day or two, I have to catch up. My body is like, nope, you gotta rest. Cause I have chronic illness. I have chronic pain. So it I have to take those rests. But my brain thinks I can do all these things sometimes. So what would change if you treated your body like a partner instead of an enemy? What would change in that? I think I think a lot. If we if we actually stopped and stopped wanting to be somebody that we're not, we're still very much the person we've always been. We just can't do as much now as we once could. You know, the used to could. So when we're in this in this mess, in this trying to figure this season of our life out. We actually have moments where if you haven't already, it's probably coming. Maybe it won't if you watch this. But if you've been here, been in this, you know exactly what I'm getting ready to say. We grieve. We grieve a version of ourselves that is still alive, right? Here's something we don't talk about enough. You can grieve a version of yourself without anybody unaliving or dying. You can grieve your former health. You can grieve your former independence, your former career, your your marriage, your former confidence, your former energy, your former role in your family. You can grieve all of it. You can grieve the woman who used to walk into a room without questioning herself. You can grieve the man. Who once felt physically unstoppable. You can grieve the parent who had children running through the house that now is so quiet. You can grieve a lifestyle that no longer exists. And because nobody died, people may not recognize it as grief. They might say, At least you're still here. At least things aren't worse. At least you have so much to be thankful for. And those statements, yeah, they may be true. But gratitude doesn't cancel out grief. Again, gratitude doesn't cancel out grief. You can be grateful for your life and still miss the way it used to feel. You can be thankful for your family and still grieve the empty nest. You can appreciate your current abilities and still miss the things your body once allowed you to do. Both can exist. One of the healthiest things we can learn. is to stop demanding that gratitude, silence, sadness. Sometimes healing sounds like I miss that version of my life. And I'm learning how to love this one. That's a powerful place to begin, right? So somewhere along that line, in the midst of the grieving and everything else, we we integrate what our pro productivity should be. So when productivity becomes your identity, what happens then? Especially those of us who have spent most of our lives taking care of everybody, working, cooking, cleaning, raising children, building careers, maintaining households, sometimes more than one, if you have an ailing parent. Solving problems, being the dependable one, the strong one, the one everybody calls. When you've spent years measuring your worth by what your accomplishments were, slowing down can feel terrifying. Because if you're not doing, who are you? If you're not needed, who are you? If you're not working at the same pace, who are you? And if you can't accomplish everything on your list. Do you still feel valuable? Some of us don't know how to rest without feeling guilty. We'll sit down for 10 minutes and immediately start mentally listening, listing rather, listing everything we should be doing and listening to our inner head. that little person in your head that's always talking to you and and having all the negative, negative hoorah in your head. You list the laundry, the dishes, the emails, the phone calls, the errands, everything starts running through your mind. In that 10 minutes, you're trying to take a break. You won't give yourself a break. And heaven forbid somebody ask what we've done today because suddenly we feel like we need to present a resume, right? Well, I finished two loads of clothes, answered six messages, made three appointments, and reorganized a drawer. Honey, you don't have to justify your existence through a completed checklist. Your worth is not determined by how much you can produce. You are still a person of value when you are resting. You're still worthy of love when you're tired. You're still deserving of respect when your capacity changes. And you're still you. You're still you when the to-do list isn't finished. Give yourself grace. Give yourself time. Love yourself. I've touched on this emptiness thing a couple of times. I'm just gonna throw it in here for a minute. Sorry, you guys I feel like there's something on my face. So I'm just gonna throw it in here for a minute. squirrel. So I want to talk just a tad bit about parenting because most people that listen to this are either parents or beyond that. Grandparents raising grandbabies. Because with parenting. This particular part can sneak up on you. For years, your identity revolves around being a mom or a dad or even nana and papa. Schedules, school, sports, meals, homework, doctor's appointments, laundry, transportation, everybody needing something. And then one day, the house gets quiet. The children grow up. They have their own lives, their own relationships, their own responsibilities. And suddenly the role that once occupied so much of your daily life changes. You might find yourself thinking, I used to be needed. I used to know what everybody was doing. I used to have a house full of noise. I used to have somewhere to be every afternoon. And now you have space. But sometimes that space feels like loss. Here's what I want you to remember. Your children growing up doesn't mean your purpose has expired. It means your role is simply evolving. You're still a mother, you're still a father. But your relationship with your children may look different. And that creates an opportunity to discover parts of yourself. That have been waiting patiently for your attention? What do you enjoy with a capital YOU? What interest have you put aside? What friendships do you want to nurture? What dreams have you postponed? What does life look like when you stop organizing every moment around somebody else's needs? That can be scary. It is scary, but it can also be very beautiful. You haven't stopped being important. You're learning a new way to be present. Embrace that. Love that. Take that in and figure out who you are again. Who are you beyond that? If you need more information on that, I do have a podcast or two that I've talked about on that one recently. So I want to move into relationships a little bit on this because this phrase shows up in all of this too. We used to talk for hours. We used to go on dates. We used to laugh all the time. We used to be affectionate. We used to make each other a priority. We used to feel connected. And sometimes those memories are important. They remind us. what closeness felt like. But here's where we have to be careful. Are we using those memories to inspire reconnection? Or are we using them to avoid looking honestly at the relationship today? Because relationships change. People change. Circumstances change. Work schedules change. Bodies Change. Your emotional needs change. What created connection 10 years ago might not be enough today. And that's okay. Sometimes we're waiting for our partner to become the person they used to be instead of getting curious about who they are now. So ask yourself, do I know my partner as they are today? Do I know what matters to them now? Do I know what makes them feel loved now? Do I know what they're struggling with? Do I know what they need? Or am I still trying to love the person I remember from years ago? A healthy relationship isn't always about getting back to how things were. I've made this mistake. I still long for what was. Sometimes it's about building something that fits. Who you've become, but who both of you have become now. Remember that. It's who you both have become now. So as you're focusing all the on all of that in whatever relationship, sorry. I want to narrow this down a little bit more to the marriage, right? Sometimes we don't just miss our partner and how they used to be. We miss who we used to be in the relationship. Maybe, maybe you used to be playful. I know that's part of my problem. I used to be very playful. Maybe affectionate. Maybe you had a lot more confidence, spontaneous, trusting, emotionally available. And now you feel guarded, exhausted, disconnected, or even unsure of yourself. It's tempting to say in those moments, I just want the old me back. But before we try to bring that version back, let's ask, what happened? Did life become overwhelming? Did unresolved conflict accumulate? Did trust get damaged? Did you stop making time for yourself? Did you experience grief? Did your emotional needs change? Did you spend years putting everybody else first? Because sometimes the version of ourselves we miss didn't simply disappear. She adapted to circumstances. She learned to protect herself. She got tired. She got hurt. She took on responsibilities. And now she may need something different. Not pressure to become who she used to be. Not pressure to become who you used to be. But permission to become who you need to be next. That's a very different kind of healing. So I think here I want to talk about where when we have all these things and we're trying to navigate who we are and what we're doing and why we're doing it and all the things, then we end up in this point of shame, right? When used to could becomes shame. Let's talk about the shame part. Because shame is where comparison becomes especially damaging. Regrets say, I wish I could still do that. Shame says. There's something wrong with me because I can't. Regret might say something like, I miss how things used to be. Shame is going to say, I'm less valuable now. Regret is going to say, I wish I had more energy. Shame is going to say, I'm useless. We're going to tell ourselves we're useless. Do you hear the difference? One acknowledges loss, the other attacks identity. We're attacking ourselves. We have to be careful about the language we use with ourselves. Because we can become our own hardest critic, right? You guys know this. We say things to ourselves that we'd never say to somebody else we love. So why do we say it to ourselves? Imagine a friend living with chronic pain tells you she's struggling to get through the day. What would you tell her? She's worthless? Would you tell her she's lazy? Would you tell her she should be ashamed of herself? No. Gosh, I hope not. So why are you speaking to yourself that way? Why do we speak to ourselves that way? Compassion shouldn't stop at everybody else. You deserve some of it too. We deserve compassion too. So when we get into that shame part of it, we jump right into the comparison trap. How many of you have been into the comparison trap? I've done it numerous times in my life. I want to bring social media in into this right now because Lord knows social media can make the world of us to could look like a luxury resort. Everybody's traveling, everybody's working out, everybody's got perfect families, everybody's remodeling their house, they're celebrating their accomplishments. Everybody's marriage looks perfect. Their children are doing wonderful things. And there you are, just sitting on the couch trying to decide whether you have enough energy to wash your hair. And suddenly you feel behind. But you're comparing your real life to selected moments before somebody else's life or from somebody else's life. You don't know what happened before the pitcher, right? You don't know what happened after the pitcher. or the post. You don't know what they're struggling with privately. And you certainly don't know whether their circumstances are comparable to yours. Comparison can distort the way you see or we see ourselves. So here's a challenge. Instead of asking why can't I do what they're doing? I want you to ask instead, what does a meaningful life look like? For me What does a meaningful look like life look like for you? With your actual circumstances, not their circumstances, not your old circumstances, but Yours today. Stop comparing yourself. Comparison is a thief. Gravesb41: If you're looking for beautiful, meaningful, and custom-made creations that tell a story, Little Butterfly Design and Print is where creativity and compassion come together. Cheryl specializes in personalized designs that celebrate life's most important moments, from custom shirts and prints to heartfelt gifts, memorial pieces and unique creations made just for you. Every design is crafted with intention, care, and a personal touch that you can feel. Whether you're honoring a loved one, supporting a cause, building your brand, or simply want something one of a kind, Cheryl brings your vision to life in a way that feels truly special. Little Butterfly Design and Print isn't just a business. It's a reminder that even the smallest ideas can transform into something beautiful. Support a small business that pours love into every detail. Find Little Butterfly Design and Print by Cheryl A. Harlan online and see how she can create something meaningful just for you. Hey beautiful people, it's Barbara here from Backport's Confessions. You know, I am only gonna share what I truly love. And y'all, this one's a game changer. Our Way Skin by AYXA is a simple, luxurious skincare created with real women in mind. Think clean ingredients, formulas you can see and feel, smoother texture, that healthy glow and confidence looking back at you in the mirror. Whether you're juggling family, work, or just need a little self-care moment, Ixa's products give you spa quality results right at home. I'm obsessed with Our Way Skin and the way it makes my skin feel buttery soft. Go check out Our Way Skin by Ixa at ourwayskin.com and tell them Barbara sent you because your skin deserves to be cared for your way. Back Porch Confessions: If dry mouth has you constantly reaching for water, listen up because I found something you need to know about, and that is the Rayo Oral Pouch Solutions. They're discreet, easy to use, and designed to help keep your mouth feeling comfortably hydrated without constantly sipping water or grabbing for that piece of candy that hoping it'll help. Just tuck a little pouch in the pocket of your jaw and go about your day. There's no mess, no fuss, it's discreet. Just a simple option for dry mouth relief when you need it. So if dry mouth is driving you crazy, check out the OPS Rio Pouches at Oral Pouch Solutions dot com. Your mouth might just be thanking you for it. Moisture where you need it. OPS Rio, Dry Mouth Pouches, wherever life takes you. So there's this huge Myth. The myth that strong people never slow down. I've always been considered strong. I've had to slow down a lot. Thanks to our government. I didn't say that. Thanks to COVID coming around and blowing my world up. But anyway, some of us grew up believing strength meant endurance, right? Keep going. Don't complain, push through, handle it, be tough. Don't let anybody see you struggle. And sometimes those messages helped us survive very difficult seasons. But there's a difference between resilience and constantly overriding your limits. Resilience can include flexibility. It can include asking for help. It can include rest. It can include changing direction. It can also include accepting support. It's hard for some of us to do that. Sometimes strength means continuing. And sometimes strength means recognizing when continuing the same way is causing harm. You don't have to prove your strength by exhausting yourself. And you don't have to earn rest through suffering. Let me say that again. You don't have to earn Rest through suffering. Some of us need to write that on a sticky note and put it on the refrigerator and write it again and put it on the bathroom mirror, in the rearview mirror of the car, wherever. Write that down so you can see it multiple times a day. So when we get into these moments like this and we're working through all of these things, sometimes life forces us to reinvent ourselves, right? Sometimes we choose change, and other times change chooses us. A job ends, a marriage changes, a child leaves home, a diagnosis arrives, a loved one dies. A financial situation shifts, an unexpected responsibility appears, and suddenly the life we knew is vastly different. We can spend years trying to rebuild the exact life we lost. But sometimes that's not possible. And sometimes it's not even what would be best for us now. Reinvention. Doesn't necessarily mean becoming somebody completely different. It's not what I'm saying. Sometimes it means taking what still matters from your previous life and finding a new way to express it. Maybe you can no longer work in the same profession, but your knowledge still matters. Maybe you can no longer participate in a hobby the same way, but the joy it brought you. May be available through something different. Maybe your family role has changed, but your capacity to love hasn't disappeared. Maybe your body has changed and your personality, well, your personality, wisdom, humor, compassion, creativity, all of that still exist. You are more than the things you used to could. Remember that. So what happens if the old you wasn't actually healthier? Now here's where things can get interesting. What if the version of yourself you miss wasn't necessarily healthier? Maybe you used to do everything for everybody, but you were exhausted. Maybe you used to say yes to every request because you're a people pleaser, but you became resentful for it. Maybe you used to work nonstop. But you never rested. Maybe you used to tolerate disrespect, but you were afraid to set boundaries. Maybe you used to keep everybody happy, but nobody knew how unhappy you were. So when you say I used to could handle all that, I want you to ask, at what cost? Because being able to tolerate something doesn't automatically mean that it was good for you. Maybe you weren't stronger back then. Maybe you were surviving. Maybe you weren't more patient. Maybe you were afraid to speak up. Maybe you weren't more capable. Maybe you were just simply pushing yourself beyond what was sustainable. And maybe today's you is finally learning something younger you never understood. That your needs matter too. That boundaries are healthy. That rest is necessary. That saying no doesn't make you selfish. And that peace is worth protecting. Right? Don't let your peace be. messed with protect your peace. Chase it. So when we're learning about that, and I know I probably say that a lot, and I'm glad you guys put up with me. When we're learning about accepting us for who we are now and understanding how things can look differently at this point, we have to learn that there's a difference between acceptance and giving up. I want to clarify that. Accepting your present circumstances doesn't mean abandoning your goals. Be clear on that. Accepting means recognizing reality accurately enough to respond to it. Giving up might sound more like nothing can ever re improve. Acceptance sounds more like this is where I am today. What choices are available to me? There's a difference in that mindset, right? You can accept that your energy is limited and still work toward improving your quality of life. One step at a time, one breath at a time, one moment at a time, you can do it. You can accept that your body has changed and still pursue appropriate movement. Get up every day, move just a little bit. Do a little extra today, a little extra tomorrow, and a little extra after that. And if you need to rest for a day or so, take a rest, but get back up. You can accept that a relationship has changed and still work toward connection. You can accept that you're grieving and still make room for joy. There's no shame in having joy while grieving. They want you to be happy. They don't want you to sit in grief. Acceptance doesn't eliminate possibility. It gives possibility a realistic starting point. Right? And sometimes that's exactly what we need. That realistic starting point. I want to introduce one little word. Still S T I L L. Because I think this word can change how we talk to ourselves. So instead of I can't do what I used to, I used to could, try replacing it with something like, what can I still do? Instead of I'm not who I used to be, maybe try. Whom I still becoming? Instead of I don't have the same energy, try saying how can I still make meaningful use of the energy I do have? Instead of my life isn't what I expected, well what can still be beautiful about it? Now I'm not suggesting anything along the line of We we positivity how do I want to say this? we use positivity to deny real pain. If you have pain, I'm not telling you to deny real pain. Some losses are profound, some limitations are heartbreaking, some changes are just unfair. But the word still S T I L L reminds us that our story hasn't ended. There may be possibilities we haven't explored. There may be relationships we haven't built. There may be joys we haven't discovered. There may be parts of ourselves we we haven't met yet. And that's worth remembering. That's worth chasing. So I want to revisit the part of our body again. And and the part where I want you to remember that your body is not your enemy enemy. Because so many people live in constant conflict with themselves. Oftentimes they look in the mirror and see everything that's changed. The wrinkles, the weight, the scars, the grey hairs, the different proportions. You know, I like to tease about my butt hanging out with my kneecaps now. signs of aging, signs of illness. And immediately we start comparing, right? I used to look like this. I used to fit into that. I used to have that body. But your body isn't a photograph that failed to remain unchanged. It's a living part of you. It has carried you through experience, through stress, celebrations, grief and loss. In just ordinary days and through things other people may know nothing about. You don't have to love every physical change. I'm not telling you that. I know it's not possible. You don't have to pretend limitations are easy. But perhaps maybe you can begin treating your body with less hostility. So instead of asking, why aren't you What you used to be, try asking, what do you need from me today? Maybe that means rest, maybe that means movement, nourishment, maybe even medical support, gentleness, grace, patience with yourself, with your body. Your body deserves care, not punishment for changing. So when aging feels like losing yourself, what do we do? Because our culture has a strange relationship with it, to say the least. We celebrate living longer, but we often shame the visible evidence of getting older. We're told to look younger, act younger, dress younger, stay relevant, stay productive, stay attractive. And somehow we're supposed to accumulate decades of wisdom without showing any signs that decades have passed. What? Make that make sense. But aging can bring emotional complexity. Some people experience new freedom, others experience loss. Some feel more confident, while others struggle with changing abilities or appearance. Many experience both, and that's okay. You don't have to pretend every part of aging is wonderful. I'm not telling you to do that. But you also don't have to treat aging as proof. That your best days are behind you. Your life isn't valuable only when you're young. And beauty doesn't have an expiration date. Neither does purpose or humor, comedy. I love all of it. Neither does connection with new people, neither does growth. None of it. None of it matters. Nothing makes a difference, right? So what do we do when we get past all that? We've had these conversations with ourselves. We realize that we're growing and things are changing. We're not who we used to be. And we're at an age where, well, for many of us, work becomes part of our identity. You spend years building experience, learning skills, serving people, developing a reputation. Becoming known for what you do. And then something changes, right? Maybe it's retirement, maybe it's health that takes you out of the job. Maybe it's some type of family circumstances. Maybe it's just burnout. Maybe you just simply realize that the career you've had no longer fits the life you want. And suddenly you're asking, Who am I without that title? Without that schedule, without that responsibility. Without that professional identity, that transition can feel like a loss, even when the change is something we wanted. Because we're not just leaving task behind. Sometimes we're leaving a version of ourselves behind. But your skills, your experience, and your character don't vanish when your job title changes. Maybe the way you use them changes. Maybe your purpose evolves. Maybe you discover a new way to help people. Maybe you finally make room for something that was waiting in the background. Like me, like this. A career can be meaningful. A change like this can be meaningful. But it isn't the total definition of a human being, right? So embrace those moments, embrace the changes and know that you are not that id identity and was not ever meant to be that identity for the for your whole life, w with whatever career you're having to give up. Or being a a stay at home mom. Your identity is who you are in the moment now. So along with those changes in your identity and in the changes in the relationships and stuff like that, there's another ship I want to talk about, and that's friendship. The friendships we used to have, right? Have you ever thought we used to be so close? We used to talk every day. We used to spend weekends together. We used to tell each other everything. And now things are just different. Well, friendships change. People move, responsibilities grow, priorities shift. Sometimes conflict creates distance. Sometimes nothing dramatic happens. Life just simply changes. And that can hurt. Especially when you aren't ready for it. Here's something that's worth considering though. Not Every relationship is meant to remain in exactly the same form forever. Some friendships deepen, some become occasional, and some end altogether. Some return after years. Some teach us important lessons about who we are. You can cherish a friendship without demanding that it remain frozen in the past. And you can grieve a friendship that changed without assuming. The memories were meaningless. Sometimes the relationship was beautiful for the season it existed. And sometimes the healthiest thing we can do is appreciate what it gave us while making room for connection in the present. So that brings me to the part where faith comes into this. Because sometimes our expectations of ourselves get tangled up with what we believe God expects from us. If you're a believer, sometimes we think I used to serve more, I used to volunteer more, I used to attend more of everything, I used to have more energy for ministry. I used to do so much for everybody, and now I can't. But does your value to God depend on how busy you are? Does your faith become less meaningful because your capacity changes? No. Does needing rest mean you've stopped being useful? No, I don't believe so. Ecclesiades, I always say that wrong, so don't come at me. Ecclesiades three reminds us that life has seasons, right? Different times, different experiences, different circumstances. And the Isaiah forty six four offers the beautiful reminder of God's sustaining care even into old age. I think those passages invite us to consider something. Our late our lives our lives are not meant to remain unchanged. Seasons are to happen. Seasons are Are to shift, responsibilities shift. Our abilities to do things shift. And perhaps faith is not about trying to remain the same person through every season. Perhaps it's about learning how to walk faithfully through the season we're actually in. Not the season we miss, not the season we wish we would hurry up to, the one we're living today. So what happens when God isn't asking you to be who you used to be? I want to talk to the person who feels like they're falling short. If you're listening, this is for you. Maybe you used to do more. Maybe you used to give more. Maybe you used to feel more like confident. Maybe your life used to look more impressive from the outside. And now things are different. What if this season isn't about proving you can still do everything? What if it's about learning something new? Meeting someone new? Maybe learning some patience, surrender, discernment, compassion, maybe how to receive help, maybe how to live without constantly proving your worth. Sometimes we're so focused on asking God to restore our old lives that we overlook opportunities for growth in our present circumstances. Now, I'm not saying suffering is automatically a lesson, God sends. And I'm not suggesting every loss happens for a specific reason we can identify. That's not true. But even in difficult circumstances, meaning and growth may still be possible. You don't have to return to who you were to live a meaningful life. That's all I needed to say for that. So what what do we do? A lot of us and a lot of people that I know, we apologize for everything. And we are, especially at this age in our lives where things change, our body changes, and we can't do as much and whatever and whatnot. we apologize for the changing that makes us not be able to do, right? Somebody needs to hear this in this room. I know you do. You are allowed to change though. You're allowed to have different priorities. You're allowed to want a quieter life. You're allowed To stop enjoying things you once enjoyed. You're allowed to discover new interest. You're allowed to need more rest. You're allowed to become more selective with your time. And you're allowed to establish boundaries you didn't have before. And you're allowed to say that used to work for me, but it doesn't anymore. That doesn't automatically make you difficult. It makes you human. We evolve. We learn. We adapt, right? And sometimes the people around us struggle because they prefer the old version of us. The version who always said yes. The version who never complained. The version who handled everything, the version who made everybody else's life easier. But somebody else's comfort or the old you does not mean you're obligate obligated to remain that person forever. Right? You don't have to remain that person forever. So when the old you was a people pleaser. I know I talked a little about this one already. Because some of us look back and say, I used to have so many friends. I used to get invited everywhere. Everybody used to come to me. Everybody used to need me. And now Now my circle is smaller. My phone is quieter. You're more selective. And sometimes you wonder whether you've become less lovable. But think about this. What if you haven't? What if you haven't become less lovable? What if you've become less available for one-sided relationships? What if you stopped overextending yourself? What if you've stopped chasing people? What if you've stopped confusing being needed with being valued? Sometimes a quieter life isn't evidence of failure. No, sometimes as we arrived, sometimes it's evidence that your boundaries have changed. Now that doesn't mean every lost relationship was unhealthy. Sometimes we contribute that to distance. Oftentimes, distance is the reason why relationships, friendships fall apart or just kind of migrate away from one another, you know? But healthy reflect reflection, like healthy self-reflection matters in these moments, in this time in our life. I want you to not assume automatically that having fewer demands on your time means you have less worth. Having fewer friends demanding things from you, family members demanding things from you, having people demanding things from you means you have less worth. That is not the case at all. You honestly might simply be learning how to choose connection more intentionally. I I I think I need to say that again. You might be learning how to use connection. how to choose said connection more intentionally than we used to. There's a good use to could, right? So what is the danger of trying to prove you still can? Gravesb41: Y'all, let me tell you about one of my favorite little gyms back home in Robinson, Illinois. If you're looking for boutique style that feels good, fits right, and doesn't break the bank, you have to stop by Polished Boutique, owned by my sweet friend, Mindy, and her two friends, Jennifer and Valerie. And it's ran with heart, y'all. Polished is one of those places where you're not just shopping, you're family. From on-trend outfits, cozy everyday staples, statement accessories, and deals that make your wallet smile, Polished has something for every woman, every season of life. So if you're anywhere near Robinson, Illinois, go see Mindy and her girls at Polished Boutique. Tell them Back porch confession sent you. And don't be surprised if you leave feeling a little more confident than when you walked in. Polished Boutique, where style meets heart. Back Porch Confessions: This is where pride comes in. Because sometimes we push ourselves, not because something matters to us, but because we want to prove we can still do it. We don't want anybody thinking we're old, weak, incapable, dependent. So we overdo it. We ignore our limits. We refuse help. We keep going long after we should have stopped. And then we pay for it. Right? Physically, emotionally, mentally, sometimes financially, all because we wanted to prove something. But who are we proving it to? And why? There's a difference between challenging yourself in a healthy way and punishing yourself for having changed. You don't have to prove that yesterday's abilities still exist. To establish today's worth. Sometimes wisdom is knowing when to accept help. Sometimes it's recognizing a limitation. Sometimes it's finding another way. And sometimes it's just simply saying, I used to good, now I do it differently. And that's okay. So I want you to pay attention to how often you say, I used to, because that phrase can reveal something important. Sometimes it's simply a memory, sometimes it's grief, sometimes it's regret, sometimes it's shame, sometimes it's longing, and sometimes it's a belief that your best self is behind you. Try finishing these sentences for me. I used to be what? What did you used to be? I used to be active, on the go, go, go, go. I could handle a ton of things. And I was juggling everything in the air and I was, you know, in the winter Olympics skiing down a hill and juggling all these things at once, and I was a master at it. Went home with gold all the time. Answer this one. I wish I still could. I wish I could still do all that. I do. I wish I could still do a lot of the things that I used to be able to do. I miss that part of me. What part of you do you miss? I miss the part of me that could keep going, right? Or what about the sentence? I'm afraid I'll never again. What? Some people might say love the same way. work in the garden, drive, go travel. There's all kinds of things. You're afraid you'll never again. Get to feel the loving arms of someone. Now ask yourself, what emotion is underneath those statements? Is it sadness? Fear? Anger? Maybe embarrassment? I don't know, loneliness? Disappointment? Here's the thing, 'cause once once you understand the emotion, you can begin responding to the actual need. Maybe you don't need to become your old self. Maybe maybe you need to grieve. Maybe you need support. Maybe you need a routine. Maybe you need a different goal. Maybe you just need to reconnect with people. Maybe you need to stop comparing. Maybe you simply need permission to be a human. We've spent a lot of time talking about what we've lost. Now I want to ask you something different. What have you gained? You gain some wisdom, probably some patience. Might have lost a patience and some patience in some areas. Might have gained some patience in some other areas. Stronger boundaries. Maybe a better understanding of yourself. Maybe some compassion or courage. Maybe emotional maturity you should have at this point. Maybe a deeper appreciation for. just ordinary moments. Maybe you've learned who your real friends are. Maybe you've learned that peace is more important than proven a point. Maybe you've learned how to apologize. How to walk away from unnecessary conflict. You've probably learned how to ask for help, I hope. Maybe you've learned that being alone isn't the same as being lonely. We don't want to deny the losses, but we also don't want to overlook the growth. Because today's you may possess strengths that the younger you couldn't even imagine. So let's do a little exercise, a little, back porch exercise. I want you to think of three things you used to be able to do that you miss. Maybe it's something physical, maybe it's something emotional, maybe something social, something that connected you to career or family. Now for each one ask, what did that activity give me? Was it joy, freedom? Purpose, confidence, connection, independence, accomplishment. Here's the next question. Is there another way to experience some of that feeling today? Maybe not exactly the same way. Maybe not at the same intensity. Maybe not even without limitations. But is there another possibility? If you miss dancing, perhaps you can enjoy music and movement in a way that fits your body. Now. If you miss hosting large gatherings, perhaps smaller gatherings can still create connection for you. If you miss a demanding career, perhaps mentoring or creative work can provide meaning for you. If you miss being needed as a parent, perhaps you can build a new relationship with your adult children while exploring your own interest. The goal isn't to replace every loss. Some losses can't be replaced. The goal is to remain open to life. The goal is to remain open to life. Let's imagine something. You stand in front of the mirror, and for a moment you see the younger version of yourself. The woman who used to could and used to be. Maybe she's 25, maybe 35, 45. She's looking at you, and you begin telling her everything you think you've lost. I don't have your energy anymore. I don't look like you anymore. I can't do everything you could do. My life didn't turn out exactly as we expected. I've changed. I've struggled. Been hurt. And I've had to let things go. Now imagine if she could answer. What might she say to you? Maybe she'd be surprised by what you've survived. Maybe she'd admire your courage. Maybe she'd be proud that you learned to set boundaries. Maybe she'd be grateful you kept going. Maybe she'd be amazed by the love you've given. Maybe she'd want to know how you became strong enough to face things she couldn't yet imagine. Sometimes we look at our younger selves with envy. But if younger you would look at today's you with admiration? What if she wouldn't see failure? What if she just saw survival? Growth, wisdom? A woman who kept becoming. Think about that. I have a shirt. It says I am becoming I absolutely am. So we hear phrases all the time, right? I just want the old me back. I understand it. Sometimes we miss feeling healthy. I do. Sometimes I miss just being happy and confident and connected to somebody. I miss having energy. But I want to offer a different possibility. What if your goal isn't to get the old you back? What if your goal is to build a life that feels meaningful to the person you are now? What if you don't have to erase everything you've experienced? What if you can carry the wisdom forward? What if you can honor the losses without becoming defined by them? What if you can discover new interest, new relationships, new forms of joy, new ways to contribute? New ways to love, to rest. Maybe you're not supposed to become the old you again. Maybe you're allowed to become someone new, someone who remembers where she's been, but doesn't have to live there. And this part is important. Having a limitation is not the same as being limited in every aspect of life. Being tired doesn't mean you're incapable of meaningful connection. Having chronic pain doesn't mean your life lacks purpose. Being retired doesn't mean you are irrelevant. Being an empty nester doesn't mean you're no longer needed in any way, even though it so much feels that way. Being older doesn't mean you're finished growing. A limitation describes something about your circumstances. It doesn't describe your entire identity. And we need to stop turning individual struggles into global statements about ourselves. So instead of I'm useless, try I'm having difficulty with this activity. Instead of I can do anything anymore, I can't do anything anymore, try saying something like things are harder now and I'm learning what works. Instead of saying something like, I'm not who I used to be, try saying my circumstances have changed and I'm adapting. The language we use to ourselves matters. Because the way we describe ourselves can influence how we approach our lives. Think about that. The way you talk to yourself determines how you approach life. So self compassion isn't pretending everything is wonderful. It isn't making excuses. It isn't avoiding responsibility. It's responding to yourself with the same basic kindness you'd offer another person facing difficulty. If a friend told you she was grieving her former health, you'd probably listen. If a friend said she felt lost after retirement, You'd probably encourage her. If a friend said she missed having children at home, you'd probably understand. But when those same feelings show up in us, we often become what? Critical. Get over it. Stop complaining. Other people have it worse. You should be grateful. But pain doesn't become invalid because somebody else has different pain. You can practice gratitude and self-compassion together. You can. You can say, I'm thankful for what I have. And this is still hard. You can say, I'm proud of how far I've come. And I miss parts of my old life. Both can be true at the same time. Here's one of the saddest things about living in the past. We can become so focused on what we no longer have that we overlook what is happening right now, right in front of us, right? The sunshine coming through the window, the sound of somebody laughing, the a conversation with someone we love. A quiet morning, a good cup of coffee, a song that makes us smile, a moment when our body feels a little bit better. A small accomplishment of peaceful evening, those moments, they all matter, but if our attention is constantly directed toward comparison, we may miss them. In one day, today's ordinary moments may become The memories we wish we could return to. Isn't that something? We're sitting here wishing for yesterday while tomorrow's version of us may someday wish for today. So perhaps we need to practice noticing what is good now. Not because everything is good, but because something can still be. I want you to imagine something. What if you stopped measuring your life against your younger self just for one week? What if you stopped saying I should be able to do more? I should look different. I should be further along. I should have accomplished more. And instead ask, what matters to me today? What do I need? What can I realistically accomplish? What would bring me joy? What relationship needs is attention? What can I release? What deserves my energy? How different would your week feel? Maybe you would still have challenges. Of course, maybe. Perhaps you'd carry less shame. Perhaps you'd experience more peace. Maybe you'd begin making choices based on reality rather than comparison. Maybe you discover that the present has more to offer than you've been allowing yourself to see. Now I want to lighten it up just a little bit. Because of some of us being, or most of us on here, Gen X, then we have our honorary members. Gen X folks are out here trying to convince ourselves we're still 25. Our minds are saying, let's go dancing. Our backs are saying, let's discuss this. Our knees are saying absolutely not. And our feet are saying, Were we consulted in this? Our memory is saying Why did we come into this room again? We used to be able to stay out until two in the morning. Now if somebody invites us somewhere, that starts at eight at night, right? That's practically tomorrow, right? I have pajamas to wear, dogs to settle down, and absolutely zero interest in driving home after dark unless somebody's paying me to. But you know what? There's something wonderful about reaching a stage of life where you know what you enjoy. You know what you don't enjoy. You know what you want around you. You know what you're willing to tolerate. And you don't need everybody to approve. That's a kind of freedom younger us might have appreciated. So, yes. You used to could, but now we also know when we don't want to. And that, my friends, that's progress. That's amazing. So we'll bring it back to faith just a little bit again. Ecclesiades reminds us that there is a time for different things. And I think that can help us release the expectations that every season of life should look the same. There are seasons of building, seasons of raising children, seasons of working intensely, seasons of caring for others, of healing, grieving, seasons of rest, rediscovery, and sometimes several seasons overlap. Maybe you're grieving one thing while celebrating another. Maybe you're experiencing physical limitations while discovering emotional strengths. Maybe you're letting go of an old identity while developing a new purpose. Life isn't always neatly organized, but changing seasons doesn't automatically mean your life has become less meaningful. Sometimes they invite different kinds of growth. And perhaps one of the most faithful things we can do is stop demanding that the present look exactly like the past. So what is the practicality of all of this? I want you to ask yourself, what does today's version of me need? Not the version from 10 years ago, not the version other people remember, not the version I wish I still was, the version sitting right here today, listening to me. Does do you need rest? Do you need connection? Do you need to ask for help? Do you need to establish a boundary? Do you need medical attention? What about a hobby? Do you need counseling? Give me a ring-aling. Do you need to reconnect with your faith? Do you need some laughter? Do you need to grieve a little more? Do you need to grieve something you haven't grieved yet? Do you need to stop apologizing for changing? Whatever the answer is, begin there because you cannot adequately care for today's self while constantly demanding that she behave yesterday's self. So try this week to do these things. on day one, notice every time that you say, I used to could. I don't want you to criticize yourself. That's not what I'm saying. Just notice. On day two, write down three things you miss about an earlier season season of your life. Allow yourself to acknowledge the loss. On day three, write down three things you've learned since that season. Look for growth. On day four, identify one expectation you're replacing on yourself. Well, not replacing. An expectation that you've put on yourself that no longer fits your circumstances. Consider adjusting it. On day five, do something meaningful that fits your present abilities. It doesn't have to be impressive. It doesn't have to be anything grand. It just has to matter to you. On day six, connect with someone who appreciates who you are today. Not only what you do for them, but who you are today. On day seven, ask yourself, what kind of life do I want to build from here? Not how do I get my old life back? How do I build a meaningful life from where I am? That's the challenge. I want to close our reflection with something a little different. Imagine writing a letter to your younger self. Might sound something like, Dear me, I know you had dreams. I know you had plans. I know you believed life would look a certain way. And I know there are things you could do then that are harder for me now. I miss some of those things. I miss the energy, the freedom. I miss the simplicity of certain seasons. But I want you to know something. We made it through things you couldn't have imagined. We learned lessons we didn't know we needed. We loved people, we lost people. We made mistakes and regrew. We cried a little bit or a lot. We tried to laugh, and sometimes we laughed a lot. We changed. And even though life didn't unfold exactly the way we expected, we're still here. I'm not going to spend the rest of our life punishing myself because I can't be you anymore. I'm going to honor who you were. I'm going to appreciate what you gave me. And I'm going to make room for who we're becoming. Because our story didn't end when that season ended. Love the me who is still becoming. Write yourself a letter. Give yourself permission to feel the things you need to feel. And another question. You guys are probably tired of my questions today, right? It's just one I want to leave you with. Just hear me out. Are you living in the world of used to could? Are you constantly comparing yourself to the past? Are you measuring your worth by abilities that have changed? Are you grieving a former version of yourself without allowing room for a new one? Are you expecting your relationships to look exactly like they did years ago? And are you treating aging as failure? Are you confusing productivity with value? Are you overlooking today's blessings because you're focused on yesterday's memories? And here's the biggest question: What would happen if you stopped asking, why can't I be who I used to be? And start asking, who am I becoming now? Because that question opens a different door. A door toward curiosity. Curiosity, sorry. Toward compassion. Toward possibility, toward growth, toward peace. Let me tell you something. You are not a failed version of your younger self. You are a person who has lived. A person who has experienced change, has learned, has survived. A person who may have lost some things and gained others. A person whose story is still unfolding. You don't have to pretend every change is wonderful. You don't have to celebrate every limitation. You don't have to deny grief and you don't have to force positivity. You also don't have to spend the rest of your life apologizing for being human. You can miss the past and appreciate the present. You can grieve what changed and remain curious about what's ahead. You can remember what you used to could and discover what you still can. Maybe differently. Maybe more slowly, maybe with some help, maybe with new priorities, but still meaningfully. And that matters. Don't spend today trying to live yesterday. So we've made it through this version of Back Porches You Used To Could and I how today's conversation gave you something to think about. Because I know how easy it is to look backward, to remember the things we were used to do. The people we used to be, the lives we used to have. And sometimes memories bring joy, and sometimes they bring laughter, other times they bring tears. But I don't want you to become so attached to who you used to be that you forget to love the person who's sitting here today. Because today's you deserves compassion, deserves connection, deserves purpose. Today's you deserves rest, deserves joy. And today's you deserves the opportunity to keep becoming. Maybe you can't do everything you once did. Maybe life doesn't look the way you expected it to be. Maybe your body has changed. Maybe your relationships have changed. Maybe you've lost someone. Maybe your priorities have changed. Maybe you've had to release dreams and roles and expectations. But none of that automatically means your best days are behind you. There may still be laughter you haven't experienced, friendships you haven't made, places you haven't seen. Conversations you haven't had, lessons you haven't learned, and moments of peace you haven't discovered. And I want you to remember something. You don't have to earn the right to enjoy those things by first becoming who you used to be. You can participate in life from exactly where you are, with the resources that you have, with the support you need, and with compassion for the circumstances you're facing. So here's what I want you to do. The next time you catch yourself saying, Well, I used to could, stop for a second. Smile if you need to. Laugh if it's funny. Grieve if it's painful. But then ask yourself, what can I do now? What do I want now? What matters now? And what am I learning now? And who am I becoming now? Because the world of used to could might be a nice place to visit. But You don't have to live there. You have a life happening right now. And you deserve to be present for it. I've said before that we don't have to be anybody other than who God called us to be. And maybe that includes understanding that who we are today doesn't have to look exactly like who we were yesterday. We can grow and change and adapt and heal, and we can continue becoming. So stop comparing every chapter of your life to the one before it. Stop doing the comparison game. Some chapters are about adventure, about building, about love and loss and surviving and healing. And some are about finally learning to live a little differently. Every chapter doesn't have to look the same to be meaningful. And every version of you doesn't have to accomplish the same things to be worthy. So until next time, give yourself grace, respect your limits, celebrate your growth, remember your blessings, and don't forget to laugh at yourself every once in a while. Because, honey, if we can't laugh about the fact that we're now making noises just getting off the couch, we're gonna have a long road ahead of us. I'm Barbara McCormick. This is Back Porch Confessions. If today's episode made you laugh, cry, reflect, or recognize a little bit of yourself, share it with somebody who needs the reminder. Follow the podcast, leave a review, and tell me what's one thing you used to could, and what's one thing you've learned to appreciate about who you are today? Because I want to hear both. Remember, you're not finished, you're not irrelevant, you're not a disappointment. Because you've changed and you're not required to become your old self to have a meaningful future. You're still here, still growing, and your story is still being written. I'll see you next time, right here on the back porch. Thank you. Make sure you listen to the commercials, send me an email, leave a comment. Gravesb41: That's a wrap on this episode of Back Porch Confessions. Where the tea is hot, the stories are real, and we never apologize for keeping it honest. Produced and edited by the magic makers over at Zay Media. Until next time, keep your porch talk spicy and your secrets safe, mostly.