Journeys With Jani

I caught a segment on the Today Show this morning that stopped me right in my tracks—and I’m not just talking about needing to refill my coffee. They shared a story about a school (somewhere in New York City, I think) where sixth graders were filmed answering a simple, yet powerful question: “What would you want to tell your future self?” Or maybe it was “What’s something that really matters to you right now?”

Then—fast forward six years—they showed those same kids again, now high school seniors, watching their sixth grade videos. This time, they were asked to talk to that version of themselves. What advice would they give? What had they learned? How would they prepare that little sixth grade soul for the road ahead?

Y’all. I was a goner.

Full body goosebumps and more than a few tears.

I immediately started digging for a picture of myself in sixth grade. The first one I found was of me and my sister. I didn’t even have to think twice—that was the one. I stared at it for a long time. My sister’s gone now, and looking at her younger face with mine in that photo? Well, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly waterproof mascara day.

But I sat with it. And I thought… what would I say to that sixth grade girl?

Here’s what I’d say:

“Hang on, honey.”

Because life was already a little rough, but it was about to get bumpier. Heartbreak. Confusion. Moments that would shake me to the core. But I’d make it. I’d survive. I’d grow stronger with every scar. Stronger than I ever thought possible.

I’d tell her that her weird sense of humor would become her armor, that her gut instinct would serve her well, and that she should trust it more than she does. I’d remind her to keep writing—journals, poems, scraps of paper with truths scribbled in Sharpie—because that writing would one day help her tell stories that mattered.

And I’d say this loud and clear:

Love hard. Love fiercely. And don’t ever let anyone come between you and the people who love you back. Life is short. Family is sacred. And chosen family? Just as precious.

That little girl in the picture had no idea what was coming… but I do. And I’m proud of her.

So here’s to the sixth grade versions of all of us. May we never forget them. And may we keep fighting to be the kind of person they’d be proud to grow into.

XOXO, Jani