you don’t know me now

If you knew me before 2008, you certainly don’t know me now.

Who knew a fun Instagram reel would turn into such a thought-provoking Monday morning blog post? Not me at 7 am on a Friday morning half asleep with my second cup of coffee in hand and a few minutes to play on CapCut. Yet here we are.

I was like, “Yes, let’s jump on board the ‘my top five horror stories’ trend because obviously the internet wants to know I’d rather have a colonoscopy than drink wine out of a short, stubby, thick wine glass.” As I was coming up with the five most offensive things I can think of, myself before 2008 was an obvious answer.

Who even was that girl?

Add to that the fact that I’ve had several people who knew me way back in the day (people I haven’t seen or spoken to in almost 20 years or even longer than that) reach out via social media lately. Childhood acquaintances, friends from my high school days. People who knew a version of me who feels like someone else entirely trying to pick up conversations as if no time has passed.

And I’ve been sitting with that trying to figure out exactly what feels so off about that.

And then it hit me – people reaching out to me carrying on conversations as if no time has passed and they know me even a little is unsettling. The truth is that if you knew me before 2008, you don’t know me at all anymore.

You knew a version of me. A small snapshot and a phase. A girl who had no clue who she was, what she wanted, and who got it wrong far more often than she got it right. She was still learning and had no idea. She had very little direction and absolutely not an ounce of self-awareness. That version of me? She was highly immature. Chaotic. She certainly wasn’t polished. She made questionable choices and lived her life loudly in ways that make me laugh ironically thinking about it now.

She was doing her best, but only because she simply didn’t know better. Her world was small, and she hadn’t a clue that she could be the person she always dreamed of being. She lived in a world where she simply didn’t know she could change for the better. Until she did.

I am not the same Tiffany today that I was before 2008…not even a little bit, not even close.

What people see now online is also a snapshot. But what people in my real life see now (the life I share, the way I carry myself, the things that I value) did not simply happen overnight. The person I am now came from years of growth and a lot of perspective. Most importantly, it came from a tremendous amount of intentional change. I’ve built a life I’m proud of by creating peace in places that were once filled with chaos, and by developing standards where there weren’t any. That version of Tiffany did not know her worth. And when you don’t know your worth, you accept anything that looks and feels like validation.

I looked for validation in all the wrong places, from all the wrong people, and I thought attention meant approval – very ‘no publicity is bad publicity’ of me. I thought attention meant I was valued because I’d never experienced validation before.

I also didn’t surround myself with the kind of people I should have. The company I kept matched my own energy at the time, which included a lot of immaturity, inconsistency, and people I suspect were as equally unsure of themselves as I. That environment didn’t push me forward. It kept me stuck in the past and living with the belief that that type of life was all there was to life and all I’d ever experience.

I was so lucky to marry the man I married. He slowly and steadily helped me learn the difference between attention and intention. He helped me see that loud, immediate, addictive attention was not important. I am so thankful we met when we did, got married when we did, and grew up together like we did. Thanks to him, I learned that intention is what I was looking for. It’s purposeful, but it’s quiet. It taught me that life can be so much more than what it was, that I wasn’t stuck being someone I didn’t want to be just because that’s who I already was, and that I could be the kind of life I wanted even when no one was watching.

And that’s what we did. I let go of the people who weren’t living the kind of lifestyle I wanted to live. I let go of the misconception that life is ‘supposed to’ be a certain way and decided that it would be my way. I learned to nurture the right relationships, to create boundaries, and to make choices that feel good on the inside rather than look good on the outside. I also learned that I don’t need an audience.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, changed me like becoming a mother.

In 2007, my husband and I were thriving. We’d been married for a few years, we were finally doing well financially, and we’d realized that we were able to do so much more than we ever imagined. We began traveling the world, and it was a beautiful 10 days in Hawaii that changed our lives. My husband told me he wanted to start a family. I wasn’t set on it, but I figured why not? He was born to be a daddy, and I’d do anything for him. A month later, we woke up at 6 am to take a ‘results up to six days early’ pregnancy test, and I was pregnant.

And in 2008, we became parents to the most beautiful baby girl in the world. Nothing – and let me tell you that I mean ABSOLUTELY nothing – changes you like welcoming a baby together. I thought I loved my husband before, but nothing prepared me for what happened when I watched him hold our baby for the first time. There is absolutely nothing in the world like the bond shared between two people who love one another who have welcomed children into the world together. That moment changed everything.

I was raising a little girl, and I would do anything for her. I knew immediately that the example I set for her would be the single most important example in the world. I wanted her to grow up in a household with two parents who love and respect one another so that she’d have a strong example of what to look for in a man one day (and let me tell you how proud we are of her and her choices as her darling boyfriend of three years is absolutely wonderful to her). I wanted her to grow up in a household with a mother who had confidence, class, and who set a good example for the kind of woman she’d one day become. I wanted her to know that perfection doesn’t exist, but effort does. I wanted her to know that you can be anything and anyone you want, and that you are not defined by anything in your childhood.

I wanted her to see me thrive. So I learned to thrive. I learned to find validation not from others but from myself. I learned to become the woman I wanted to be. One with manners, class, and confidence. One who sets firm boundaries, whose priority is her family, who gives back to the community, and who lives life from the inside out. Meaning a life that feels good, not looks good.

She changed our hearts, our lives, and our future. And so did her little sisters and brother. We continued to grow together, to accept no limitations, to create a dream life. Everything that once felt so important fell away so quickly and was replaced effortlessly by something so much more meaningful.

So much has changed over the course of my adulthood, but especially since I became a mother. So when someone shows up out of the blue and interacts with me like I’m still the same girl I was back then and no time has passed, it feels misplaced. It’s not offensive, but it’s certainly inaccurate.

That version of me? She had different priorities. She didn’t know better. She had no class.

This version of me? I am not the same. I have different energy. Different boundaries. I am someone else entirely.

I’m not dismissing where I came from. I can appreciate it and laugh about it, and I’m grateful for it because without that Tiffay, I’d certainly never know this Tiffany. But…I don’t live there anymore. And I certainly don’t operate from that place anymore.

So, while I always hope for the best for everyone, remember one thing:

You are not talking to the girl you remember.

You are talking to the woman I grew into.

And those are two very different people.

We’ve all changed, and I hope everyone is as proud as I am about the person they’ve become over the past several decades.