I get asked this question all the time: What advice would you give your 26-year-old self? I think this question usually comes from women in their 20s looking for a little guidance, and I always end up giving some version of the same answer.
Get Sober
First and foremost, I would tell 26-year-old me to get sober. I often think about how much I could have accomplished if I wasn’t in full self-destruction mode. I eventually got sober at 28, and I don’t have regrets—everything happened the way it needed to. But still, that would be the first piece of advice I would give my 26-year-old self.
You Don’t Have to Have It All Figured Out
I spent most of my 20s feeling like I was behind, and honestly, I wish I’d known it was okay to not have everything figured out. I’d tell myself to focus on my passions and follow my curiosity, because those are the things that actually lead you somewhere meaningful.
I’d also remind myself to stop trying to be someone I wasn’t. If I had just embraced who I truly was without trying to be a different version of myself for everyone else, I could’ve saved myself a lot of pain and confusion.
Authenticity > Perfection
Back then, instead of admitting I was struggling, I threw myself into a party lifestyle and acted like that was the plan all along. It wasn’t.
Of course, this was before wellness, self-help, and even podcasts were what they are today. We didn’t have the tools or access that people in their 20s do now. That’s a gift, but I know it can also create pressure. It might seem like you have to have it all together—career, looks, health, everything. And that’s just not realistic.
What I know now is that everything good in my life came from being authentically me and exploring what genuinely lit me up. That’s where the clarity and success came from.
You Can Do Anything
If I could leave my 26-year-old self with one final thought, it would be:
You can literally do anything you want.
Excuses are just stories we tell ourselves to stay small.
Want to hear more? Listen to the full solo episode here.
