Have you changed much since you were a kid?

hollydolly said:
Aries are the most honest sign of the whole Zodiac, but very straightforward, no sides... ...... Pisces are not sweet and innocent... that's the projection.... they're complete opposite to Aries..
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Pisces is a water sign and supposedly dreamy, meditative, artistic. But don't take my word for it--look it up.
 

I think the journey of our lives is one of evolution and change. While we may have retained a lot of the traits of our younger years, experience has shaped us into something that has expanded and moved on as we age.

Hopefully this journey has allowed us to improve ourselves and the way we interact with the people around us. Unfortunately there are some people that do not take advantage of the chances given to them, and they may well have changed very little.
 
Not so much, I was a very serious kid, did a lot of thinking about my parents divorce. Fact is I was an adult way too young, but that kept me from getting into the troubles my friends got into. Married at 17, he was 19 everyone said it wouldn't last.68 years later all those people are dead, so theres no proving them wrong. DH was also an adult well before any of his friends.
 
Time keeps everything from happening at once; that’s all time is. But looking back across the vast span, it’s surprising how much can pass in the blink of an eye, as both beautiful and brutal events shape and change us. What once seemed endless now feels almost momentary. Perhaps the biggest change since I was a kid is how much more I sense the urgency of it all. 🤷‍♂️
 
I am an Aries. I have changed from my childhood. I was a skinny, sick child most of the early years but at age 12, I became well and popular with the children in school which at that time, I started liking myself better.

I have a positive attitude to most things in life now. I surprise myself that I can cope with situations that I didn't think I could with situations in my life.
 
In high school I wrestled at 165lbs and played football at 180lbs. I am the same height as I was in high school at 6'2".

I now weigh 240lbs and am down from just under 300. My high school weight was a bit low for me, and my current weight is too high! I will continue to work at eating healthier and getting more exercise. So far that has worked to keep me improving my weight. My goal is to be under 200lbs.

Other than being better educated than I was in high school and having life experience including being married and raising three great kids... I am the same person I was in high school.
 
Mmmmm, (thinking).... as a little kid I was nicknamed 'Me Do It', because I always wanted to have a go, or help, or do whatever it was.
I'm still pretty much the same in that regard.
Family and neighbours always remarked I had 'common sense in bucket loads', pretty much the same with that too.
My sister, 2yrs older than me, used to always belittle me in some way, whereas now she values my opinions/thoughts.
I'm just an older version of that I s'pose, whilst still being shy(ish) and fighting confidence levels.

Those confidence levels 'up' a little on a good day - because I look old now, I love going up to some gorgeous hunks in supermarkets to ask them if they can read the sell by date of something as I've forgotten my specs .... Love doing that - always turns into some sort of banter or conversation. ;) :cool:
 
outlander said:
I think the journey of our lives is one of evolution and change. While we may have retained a lot of the traits of our younger years, experience has shaped us into something that has expanded and moved on as we age.

Hopefully this journey has allowed us to improve ourselves and the way we interact with the people around us. Unfortunately there are some people that do not take advantage of the chances given to them, and they may well have changed very little.
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Yes. If I have any kind of religious belief, it's that life's purpose is to evolve. And it just might continue even after physical death.
 
My dad, an Irishman, was a trained boxer, and starting when me and my brothers were toddlers, he taught us to fight. We all got our first pair of boxing gloves when we were only 3. Early on we trained gloved, and later, bare-fisted. In good weather, we trained out in the yard, and when it wasn't so good, we trained in the hay barn.

Dad taught us how fight clean, how to fight dirty, and when to do which. We learned how to throw punches, how to take punches, how to grapple, how to wrestle, how to use various inescapable holds, and the secrets of escaping them. And starting when we were about 13, dad held back less and less, so by age 16, you had to hurt him, or he'd hurt you.

In blaring contrast, I met my maternal grandfather, an Italian Jew, when I was 15, and shortly after, I went to work for him at his tailor shop here in Sacramento. He talked a lot about how to “use your noodle” to resolve conflicts peacefully. Brains over brawn, David and Goliath, no winners no losers, when to walk away, when to accept defeat, and how to do both honorably.

I was all about the fighting until I was about 30, when I really hurt someone who didn’t have it coming at all. He was a big ol’ boy about my age, and I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, so I slammed his face against a small bus that was handily parked on the side of the street right there.

When he sat down on the sidewalk and started crying like a big baby, his 20-something sister ran over, screaming at me. Next thing I knew the guy’s mother was there, and the bus driver showed up, and neighbors came out, and someone called for an ambulance.

Turns out the man was mentally challenged. That bus was a “special bus” that had just brought him home from an activity center for the developmentally disabled.

That changed me. I haven’t hurt anyone in any way for any reason since then. Suddenly, everything my Jewish grandfather talked about set in, and it has stayed with me.

People used to tell me “You’re just like your Dad,” sometimes adding “He’d be proud.” Now everyone who knew my grandfather says I’m just like him, and I look like him, too. And I think he’d be proud.
 
Some, as far as my general personality goes. I was VERY sheltered by my mom growing up, and did not get to experience a lot of different childhood things. I was quite shy, would cry at drop of a hat etc.
I am fairly introverted now still..but have also come out of my shell more. I have learned to be more comfortable making difficult choices, and experiencing new things (OK, still not skydiving or anything, but normal stuff).
Took me a while to move out on my own....even after my mom died in my 20s. But I am much happier now.
I did not have a lot of friends, and have a larger circle now. Friends both male and female....
 
Murrmurr said:
My dad, an Irishman, was a trained boxer, and starting when me and my brothers were toddlers, he taught us to fight. We all got our first pair of boxing gloves when we were only 3. Early on we trained gloved, and later, bare-fisted. In good weather, we trained out in the yard, and when it wasn't so good, we trained in the hay barn.

Dad taught us how fight clean, how to fight dirty, and when to do which. We learned how to throw punches, how to take punches, how to grapple, how to wrestle, how to use various inescapable holds, and the secrets of escaping them. And starting when we were about 13, dad held back less and less, so by age 16, you had to hurt him, or he'd hurt you.

In blaring contrast, I met my maternal grandfather, an Italian Jew, when I was 15, and shortly after, I went to work for him at his tailor shop here in Sacramento. He talked a lot about how to “use your noodle” to resolve conflicts peacefully. Brains over brawn, David and Goliath, no winners no losers, when to walk away, when to accept defeat, and how to do both honorably.

I was all about the fighting until I was about 30, when I really hurt someone who didn’t have it coming at all. He was a big ol’ boy about my age, and I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, so I slammed his face against a small bus that was handily parked on the side of the street right there.

When he sat down on the sidewalk and started crying like a big baby, his 20-something sister ran over, screaming at me. Next thing I knew the guy’s mother was there, and the bus driver showed up, and neighbors came out, and someone called for an ambulance.

Turns out the man was mentally challenged. That bus was a “special bus” that had just brought him home from an activity center for the developmentally disabled.

That changed me. I haven’t hurt anyone in any way for any reason since then. Suddenly, everything my Jewish grandfather talked about set in, and it has stayed with me.

People used to tell me “You’re just like your Dad,” sometimes adding “He’d be proud.” Now everyone who knew my grandfather says I’m just like him, and I look like him, too. And I think he’d be proud.
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That was a remarkable turn around, in a few paragraphs, my friend. Be proud of your ability to realize that you "could have killed the guy" and it made you a better person, because of it. I was the fighter too, as a young man. It took a long time for me to come to the conclusion that I was enjoying it, too much. Enjoying the violence, I mean. I managed to NOT spend time in jail, but a few times it was a close run thing. JIM.
 
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