Hi there, I’m Aarti, Founder and Lead Counsellor at Incontact.Welcome to the 30th edition of 1-1-2 Inspire, where we explore one story, one insight, and two tools to nurture emotional clarity and connection.
Last week, I attended my 25th school reunion. It was an evening full of nostalgia and laughter, loud hellos and quiet reflection. Being back among people who knew me before I became me—before titles, career, or family—felt almost surreal.
Reunions like this remind us that our past isn’t just something we leave behind. It’s the soil where our beginnings were seeded.
Revisiting a part of our history—our old schools, homes, or friendships—helps us reconnect with the many influences that shaped us. It’s rejuvenating. It’s grounding.
It was a weekend of reconnections—with people, with memory, and with parts of myself I’d almost forgotten.
Meeting my old friends, especially the women I grew up with, brought waves of realization.
As teenagers, we didn’t have the vocabulary to describe identity or independence. Yet I was lucky to be surrounded by girls who embodied both. They were strong in expression and grounded in their values, each forming her own sense of self in a world that was still learning how to make space for women’s voices. Looking back, I see how much that shaped me.
We often talk about how our families of origin define us. But we forget the enormous influence of our peers, especially during adolescence—their validation and rejection, their inclusion and exclusion, their quiet observations and bold influence. All of these early dynamics quietly become the blueprint of how we relate, belong, and believe in ourselves.
Among all these influences, I realised something powerful: the biggest force shaping me wasn’t academic growth or milestones—it was people. The peers who challenged me, inspired me, and mirrored parts of me I couldn’t yet see.
When I met some of the “backbenchers”—classmates who weren’t academic achievers but are thriving today—it was humbling. It affirmed something I’ve long believed:
Academic excellence is just one marker of success. Confidence, creativity, and resilience are others—and often, they matter more.
For some, school years were their highest-achieving phase. For others, they were just beginnings—seeds that bloomed much later. Although school influences your identity, it doesn’t define your success.
Encounters like these bring clarity. They remind us to be intentional about where we’re headed—and equally intentional about the direction we choose.
Who we become is shaped less by what we did and more by who we did it with.
Many of the forces that shape our identity aren’t the obvious ones.
Family matters deeply. So do mentors and the environments we grew up in. Although all these factors leave their own invisible marks, I realized that the biggest influence for me, more than any other, was peers.
They’re the ones who quietly teach us how to belong, how to assert, how to be seen. They reflect our strengths before we can name them, and often see potential we can’t yet claim.
Revisiting our history, then, isn’t about reliving old achievements or showcasing new ones. It’s about re-meeting the people who shaped our way of being—sharing laughter, recalling innocence, and entertaining the frivolity that belonged to that era of life.
There were moments during the reunion when people addressed me as the person I once was. Some of those parts aren’t there anymore—and yet, seeing them reflected back helped me understand my journey more fully. It reminded me not to dismiss those older versions of myself. Though they no longer live in me as they once did, they quietly curated my growth.
When we wholeheartedly embrace our past, we also embrace our present and future selves with more compassion.
Revisit your past—deliberately
Plan a reunion, walk through your old school, or reach out to a childhood friend.
When you meet people who knew you before your current identity, you’re invited to see yourself differently.
Notice how they remember you. Notice how you’ve changed. Notice what hasn’t.
That gentle tension between “who you were” and “who you’ve become” can be surprisingly liberating.
Visit your childhood to understand your children—and yourself.
The best gift you can give your children is to visit your own childhood.
When you remember what it felt like to be 10 or 15—to be unsure, curious, or inspired—you deepen your empathy for your child’s emotional world.
It also frees you from the pressure to make them “find their passion early.”
Curiosity and self-discovery don’t follow a fixed timeline—they can arrive at any age, through a teacher, a subject, or a moment of connection.
I was an average student academically until 17—until psychology found me. That awakening taught me that our path unfolds in its own time.
When we remember this, we parent with more trust and less anxiety.
We give our children space to become—just as we did, eventually, in our own way, in our own time.
Revisiting our past doesn’t trap us there—it expands us.
It shows us that identity isn’t a fixed story, but a living dialogue between who we were, who we are, and who we’re still becoming.
So, go back sometimes.
Walk through your old school. Call that friend who knew you before life got complicated.
You might just find a forgotten version of yourself—waiting to remind you who you’ve always been.
With warmth,
Aarti ❤️