Seeing Myself Today, Through Tomorrow's Eyes

I have always looked at old pictures of myself and thought “damn I looked so good back then!” knowing full well that while living in the moment, my thoughts were the complete opposite. At that moment, I generally felt ugly and found some flaws in my body/hair/skin that I was desperately trying to hide or hoped to God that no one would notice.

At 45 years old looking back at pictures of my 20s and 30s, I realized that my older self will ALWAYS look back at my younger self more favorably, regardless of how my younger self feels TODAY. So what if I started looking at myself today like my older self would in the future? 🤯 

I’m so excited about this exercise and to a certain extent have already started putting it into practice, but this is going to be an uphill battle as I age, and am fully aware that this will require rigorous daily practice on my part.

Whoo, alright let’s get started shall we?!

I was stunned when I came across this picture. The memories of that night and the thoughts I thought then came rushing back into my brain, and what was shocking was how DIFFERENT my thoughts were from then to now. When I saw this picture today, I went goo-goo eyes over myself thinking how beautiful I looked in my stylish appearance. These thoughts were quickly replaced by the memory of my thoughts then. And it made me sad.

It was 2004 and Superbowl XXXVIII was being hosted in Houston, TX, my hometown. The city was erupting with pre-celebration parties, our regular haunts transforming into glamorous venues seemingly overnight, and new ones surprisingly popping up out of thin air. I lived and worked in Austin, TX then and had spent weeks making party plans with my hometown friends, purchasing new outfits for each event we planned to attend, and just super excited to hang out with my friends and family.

On this night, I was going to P.Diddy’s lavish Superbowl party with two of my girlfriends who I considered to be the epitome of glamour and beauty. Although I LOVED being with them, I remember never feeling beautiful around them because, by comparison, I always fell short - literally and figuratively because they both towered over my 5’0 frame. For this night, I wanted to up my glamour game and took a risk with the dress I chose. Why was it a ‘risky’ choice you ask? Well, I had raging insecurities about my arms (thought they were too big) and my tummy (thought I had a kangaroo pooch) so wearing a body-fitting strapped-tube top dress was very risky for me. But I wore it anyway, deluding my way into feeling pretty.

When I look at these pictures now, I get filled with the excitement from that night and I happily flashback to the laughs I shared with my friends, the music and dancing. It was a glorious night in my memories, and I hope that I felt that way back then as well. But I know too well that even if I did, it was heavily overshadowed by my insecurities about my looks.

I grinned ear to ear when I came across these pictures because the adventure of that night had left luminesce streaks across my soul which now glowed within my body as I recalled those memories.

It was 2001 and I was visiting family & friends in NYC for the weekend. I had planned the visit specifically for that weekend because of Bhangra Basement, a dance party that happened once a month. I’ve always loved the sounds of Punjabi music and the way the beating of the dhol accelerates the beating of my own heart. Being Punjabi has been the most solid part of my identity, and dancing to Bhangra music makes me feel a connection that at times can feel otherwordly. I’d heard about this party from my friend and I was incredibly electric about the possibility of dancing my freakin heart out to Bhangra music in a club with hundreds of other Bhangra lovers, right in the heart of NYC’s club scene (vs. at a Brown wedding event in a party hall somewhere).

On this night, I’d left for the airport directly from work in Austin, TX, having planned to change into my party wear at the airport when I reached EWR. Given the fact that I was going to be changing in an airport bathroom with limited time and that I needed to wear party clothes that would not just be cute but also be breathable enough to withstand my overheating dancing body, I chose a no-nonsense chiffon-bandeau sleeveless top with black capris. A basic enough outfit by any means, but I still remember feeling ugly that night because of the copious amounts of sweat I generated while dancing, which made me feel like a stinking beast. What seems so trivial now but was a huge weight on my mind back then, was the fact that I couldn’t leave my hair down in a cute hairstyle for long because it would get drenched in sweat. I had adopted a hairstyle that I nicknamed “The Slick” (side parted, slicked down hair pulled back in a ponytail) to help with this problem of mine. My mom used to hate that hairstyle and would let me know every time she saw me in it.

Lastly, the dreaded darkness of my armpits. It’s a sore spot amongst the South Asian female population, made worse by living in the Western World surrounded by media that shows white women with smooth, creamy underarms. I recall trying to bleach my underarms with a friend of mine, with the high hopes that our armpits would magically turn into smooth, creamy caramel-colored patches of skin. Of course that didn’t happen.

I laugh now looking at these pictures, remembering the hustle and bustle of leaving work to get to the airport on time, then making the flight and preparing to do a quick change at the destination. I recall how my body released all tension the minute I witnessed the dance floor, letting the dhol beats flood my system. I danced with such abandon that night, instantly becoming friends with strangers through our love for Bhangra. This gets quickly replaced though, by the memories of what I thought when I looked at myself in the club bathroom towards the end of the night, how disgusted I was with myself. Oh, I wish I’d been kinder to my beautiful self then.

My life became 100 times more beautiful after becoming a mother. It was because of the amazing little human I had given birth to, whose very smile made me feel like the most special person in the world. The first time she looked up at me in that hospital room, was the first time I’d felt SEEN as a human being. It was magical. But becoming a mother also amplified my insecurities to unheard-of levels, causing a dizzying spiral of emotions within me for what seems like years.

It was 2017, Aliza was now 6 months old and I felt close to fully recovering from my C-section wound, which already felt like too long of a time based on what I was reading from other women’s experiences - stories about women starting to drive 2 weeks post-surgery, or going to the gym less than a month after their C-sections. Already I felt like a loser in this non-existent race. To help myself feel better, I decided to attend Coachella that year with my family, taking baby girl with me because I was still breastfeeding her.

The decision itself felt so freeing and succeeded in helping me feel more in control of my life, even though standing on my feet for hours at end caused a dull pain to radiate out from my lower abdomen, and my mind was a buzz with all the ways I was being a bad mother to my daughter by dragging her out to the desert and leaving her with a strange woman (nanny) for a few hours a day. On top of that, I was very unhappy with how my body looked. Although my body had looked amazing before and during the pregnancy, the C-section left my stomach looking like I was permanently wearing a skin apron. Given my historic insecurity with my tummy, this sent me over the proverbial edge and I spent that weekend in loose-fitting dresses which honestly looked like mumus.

I look back at pictures from that weekend with bittersweet feelings. I see a woman who has stepped into a momentous chapter in her life and while I’m so very proud of her, I also feel sad remembering the vicious battle that was raging inside her. I wish she had given herself the grace she deserved because she was oh-so beautiful, inside and out.

The year was 2023, and I was in LA attending a film screening of my first-ever documentary called #whitehairdontcare. I was on the red carpet getting tips on how to pose for pictures from the funny and kind photographer. Hours before this, I’d flown into town with baby girl, taken her to a birthday party, then made my way through LA traffic to the theater. My tiredness showed through my face, especially because I didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, but I didn’t care one bit. By this point in my life, I had already spent 9 make-up-free months and I felt a sense of freedom unlike I’d felt ever before in my life because this decision came after the mind-blowing one I’d made to stop coloring my aging hair. I had taken another important step towards becoming the woman I actually am and it felt phenomenal.

When I look at this picture now, my thoughts are exactly the same as the ones I was thinking that day - I feel the electricity of excitement running through me, the pride of knowing my hard work is paying off, the joy of having kind and supportive people around me, and feeling so very beautiful in my skin. It’s easy for me to remember these thoughts because it is radiating so blindingly from this picture.

After writing this post, other questions came to my mind that I’d like to include here as well as answers that I think make sense:

1. How can I start seeing myself the way my older self would? What I’ve shown you here is definitely one way but not the only one. Looking through old pictures was a cathartic exercise for me, but there were some instances where the feelings that came up through this work lingered for hours, sometimes days, which at times had a debilitating effect on me. Other, softer, ways to do this could be to just simply THINK about times from your past, see the image of your younger self & practice the “kinder eyes” approach. Adding a journaling component to this would be great for releasing your thoughts & feelings on paper.

2. Does this approach apply only to personal appearance, or are there situations where it would be helpful? I’ve shown the personal appearance example because this newsletter aims to challenge gendered ageism, which is majorly rooted in the appearance of a woman but this exercise is definitely appropriate for other situations. For example, view past relationships (i.e. friends, family, significant others) or situations (i.e. job layoffs, changing homes, starting a family) through today’s eyes & unearth the things that stressed you out or caused you some pain. How did they help you, or not, on your life’s journey? Now apply that to what’s happening in your life now & see if you can gain more clarity on the present by looking at it from a future perspective.

3. How can I deal with the negative emotions that come up when I reflect on past insecurities? As I mentioned, some really strong feelings came up for me during these exercises which at times got hard to push through. It’s important to remember that any work done on the self will be painful & challenging. Approach it only if you are called to it - I truly believe that our inner self will call out when it needs attention & we just need to be able to heed its call - because change only happens when you are ready to make it. If you are not ready to delve deeper into your past hurts, then don’t do it. Definitely approach with caution.

I'd love to hear from you!

• Do you find yourself looking at pictures from your past with kinder eyes?

• How can we start seeing ourselves the way our older selves would?

• How do you deal with the negative emotions that come up when reflecting on past insecurities?