This post is a day late, but happy it exists. In some ways, it's proof that deadlines make a difference. And that, is an example of the kind of thing I should've included on my list of 25 things I learned at 25.
For my belated birthday this year, I decided to do something different. Instead of looking forward, I wanted to look back at the advice I gave my older self four years ago. Let's see what wisdom held up, what made me cringe, and what new insights I've picked up along the way.
As an aside, (and a reminder to myself) a lot has happened since I wrote that list.
I got married to my best friend. We bought our first home together, complete with all the joys of home ownership (hello, surprise surprise bills). I packed up my life and moved cities, twice. My career took some unexpected turns as I switched jobs twice, each time teaching me something new about what I actually wanted from work. And somewhere in all that chaos, I rediscovered my love for reading.
So let's dive in and see what four years of hindsight has really taught me.
Curiosity matters way more in the long term than intelligence in the short term
In hindsight: Close, but not quite. I spent so much time in my teenage years trying to be smartest person in the room, and what you learn is that intelligence is only useful beyond a certain threshold.
By useful, I mean that intelligence is required to do whatever thing you want to do. You need enough smarts to solve the problems in front of you, to learn new skills, to adapt when things change. But beyond some baseline? It's unclear that having more of it makes any meaningful difference. (super caveat that this is not always the case)
Curiosity on the other hand, is the guiding light in a world of noise. It's the thing that makes life a never ending adventure. It's the way to keep the spark alive in a world obsessed with putting it out. I joke with friends that my internal motivations make up 80% of my actions, but the truth is that the world is so fascinating, and everyday I wake up astonished that I get another chance to perceive and experience all of its quirks.
The strength of my friendships is determined by the quality of our conversations and not the quantity.
In hindsight: True. (but with the caveat that this is true specifically for me). I put this out there as an axiom I believed everyone should follow if they wanted to lean into friendship, and over time, I've learned that this is the kind of thing that falls in the bucket of preference rather than prescription.
Choose your own happiness, first, always.
Verdict: Still true. Reading The Courage to be disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga helped develop this into a much clearer perspective.
It’s so much more important to be consistent than it is to be right.
Looking back: I think this is actually wrong. Or at least, it's only partially true. Being consistently wrong for a long enough time can slowly but surely set you down a path you'll later regret, and doing it for the sake of being "consistent" might actually be more detrimental than letting it go. I stop reading a book the moment I know I won't care about the end. Life is too short not to spend it doing the things that bring you joy.
Only fight the battles worth losing.
Pretty sure this is a Joe Biden quote which in the context of his re-election campaign in 2024, was a pretty bad idea.
I’m personally pretty lazy and disciplined, and that’s made all the difference.
In hindsight: Still lazy, but learning to practice and redefine discipline for myself. I used to think discipline meant forcing myself through sheer willpower through tasks I hated, maintaining perfect streaks, and acting in one accord at all times. But that approach kept failing spectacularly. Now I see discipline more like designing systems that work with my tendencies rather than against them. You have to do hard things when you have energy, instead of beating yourself up when you don't. I still procrastinate, still have lazy days, still prefer the path of least resistance. I just plan for that instead of fighting it, and somehow I end up getting more done while feeling less guilty about how I do it.
I’m glad i learned some lessons the hard way because pain is a really great teacher.
Pain is information. When something hurts, its your body's way of telling you something important about reality.
Sometimes, the message is simple. The future you wanted isn't what's happening. The job you thought you would like feels soul crushing. The friendship you thought would last forever, no longer exists. In short, reality is not meeting expectations.
Other times, pain is pointing toward what needs to change. It's highlighting the gap between where you are and where you want to be. The discomfort of staying in your comfort zone. The ache of not pursuing something that matters to you. The friction that shows you exactly what's not working.
Either way, pain is data about how the world actually works. Not how you wish it worked, not how it's supposed to work, but how it is.
If that's true, then avoiding pain means avoiding information. And if you're serious about making good decisions, about building a life that actually works, then you need all the information you can get. Even the uncomfortable kind. Especially the uncomfortable kind.
You’re always 100% of every identity you own irrespective of what others might say.
This is true, but being honest, was the kind of thing I had to say before I actually believed it. These days, it's the kind of thing I take for granted. What a difference 4 years can make.
My personal favorite that i tell anyone willing to hear: “Talent hits a target no one else can hit; genius hits a target no one else can see.”
I've always loved this one, but putting it into practice is still one of life's biggest mysteries to me. Part of the problem is that discoveries aren't the kind of thing you can train yourself to find. And i'm sure none of the people that have made them were searching for it in the first place. But most of us spend our lives trying to get better at hitting the targets everyone else is aiming for. But to me, the things that end up mattering often hinge on someone asking "Why are we shooting at a target to begin with?".