The Wild Thornberrys were a staple of my childhood. Thornberrys, along with other animal advocacy, creativity-forward shows like Zoboomafoo and Out of the Box.

Many of us grew up watching television, which inspired and opened our minds to the ideas of travel, art, dance, bravery, friendship. Sure, we were quote-on-quote rotting our brains, but we were also learning about the possibilities of the world.

I remember watching the Even Stevens Movie when they visited “Mandelino”, a fictional island (in my mind, Hawai’i). The movie came out in June 2003, just before my 9th birthday. I remember where I was when I watched it. The most memorable part was how it made me feel. At 8 years old, I thought about what possibilities my future held, and Hawai’i seemed far from anything I’d ever see. How heavy that is for me now, an adult, to be a child who thought she’d never make it.

I’m almost 30 now. I moved to Hawai’i with my family in 2010, just before my 16th birthday. Since then, I’ve come & gone a few times.

Thinking back, the experience of specifics—believing I’d never see a place, then moving there—probably taught me something about possibilities. I was 15, so obviously, I was not the driving force of the decision. It’s an odd coincidence—one that might inspire a belief in fate.

A lot happened between then and now: places and faces, relationships and situations, choices that put me back on the path of believing I’d never go anywhere, see anything, or be anyone.

Although I feel far from the version of myself, who believed more things impossible than I’ve proven to this day not. Sometimes, I’m still that little girl. Still pushing limits of impossible possibilities, pinching myself to see if life is real.

In March of this year, I had the privilege of visiting Machu Picchu twice. Both opportunities were amazing in their own ways, but the first time pressed into that part of me that believed I’d never see anything like it.

After I’d taken it all in, I sat at a table of trusted friends and cried for the girl who thought she’d never make it out of her hometown, never see the world in full color.

We all have limiting beliefs, days when we doubt ourselves more than others. Sometimes, I need to write my own story down to remember the hurdles passed and to believe in what’s still to come.

On the days you’re not feeling satisfied, when your mountain of disbelief and ability to overthink is larger than your will to push through. Think about the times you made yourself proud. Think about the experiences, achievements, and emotional well-being you once thought out of reach but managed to make yours. It might help.