To the Old Me – Don’t Count Yourself Out by Kayla

To the Old Me – Don’t Count Yourself Out by Kayla - July 2025 Scholarship Essay

If I could go back and give my past self just one piece of advice, it would be this:

Don’t give up on yourself. Ever.

I know you feel like it’s too late. Like you’ve already wasted too much time, made too many mistakes. You think everyone else is ahead and you're stuck watching your life pass you by. I know what that feels like. I know the heaviness of regret, the weight of trying to start over when you already feel like you're supposed to have it all figured out.

But hear me out. You’re not done.

I'm not sitting here saying I’ve made it. I haven’t. I'm not fully “recovered.” Honestly, I don’t even know what that means anymore. What I do know is that getting back on your feet when you're older is no joke. It's hard. Real hard. People don’t talk about that part enough. How it takes more energy, more courage, more patience. How it hits different when your friends are moving ahead, and you’re just trying to find solid ground.

But you know what? I’m still here. Still fighting. Still trying. And that means something.

I won’t lie — some days I feel like I’m behind, like I missed my shot. But other days, I remember how far I’ve come. I remember the things I’ve seen, the mistakes I’ve learned from, the experiences that made me stronger. I’ve been blessed, even if it didn’t always feel that way. Blessed with second chances. Blessed with perspective. Blessed to wake up each day and still have time to make something of myself.

And now? I’m building my own path. Slowly. Maybe later than most, maybe not in the way I expected, but it’s mine. My pace, my way.

If I could talk to the old me , the version that felt stuck, ashamed, hopeless , I’d say this:

You are not too late.

I don’t care how old you are, how many setbacks you’ve had, or how far behind you feel. You still matter. You still have value. And you still have time.

You don’t need to “catch up.” You don’t need to live anyone else’s timeline. You just need to keep going. Keep showing up. Keep trying.

Even if it’s slow. Even if no one sees it. Even if it hurts.

Because you’ve still got something in you. That spark. That fight. That part of you that refuses to quit , even when the world tells you to sit down. That Asta kind of spirit. No magic? So what. You still get up. You still push forward. That’s what counts.

It’s not about perfection. It’s not about looking like you’ve got it all together. It’s about staying in the game when everything in you wants to walk away. It’s about owning your story, every messy, painful, beautiful part of it.

So yeah, I’m not “recovered.” But I’m growing. I’m rebuilding. I’m learning what it means to move forward even when it’s hard. And that, to me, is more powerful than starting out perfect.

To the old me: Don’t give up. You’re not done. Your story isn’t over. And the best part? The version of you that’s coming , the one who’s been through the fire and still stands , is worth waiting for.