Ever changing selves

This morning Google popped up an article about swimming and sexual abuse. I grew up as a team swimmer, still love the sport, and maintain an interest in that world - while reading I nearly spewed tea all over my laptop (thanks Mom and Dad, glad I didn't destroy this one too!). The impetus for the article and review of the numbers of coaches who've received life-time coaching bans due to their sexual misconduct was this guy I've known since I was toddling around. There are pictures from my childhood playing Star Wars with him in the sandbox in the back yard - back when I had long raven hair and he was a moppy little tow head. We ended up swimming for the same club team and graduated high school together. Today, while still a good looking guy - in high school he was deemed super cute and quite popular - I didn't immediately recognize the photo accompanying the article.

I've know this guy for years, we've spent endless swim meets sitting in tents playing cards, talking, critiquing his shaving technique (swimmers, remember- boys and dry shaving before races - it happens) and being kids. Not only would I not recognize him standing in front of me, I wouldn't recognize who he's become.

The physical part isn't so shocking - we age and mature and gain - and possibly lose - laugh lines and weight, our carriage and gate will reflect whatever challenges our body has been through and what emotional heft we may be carrying around. My hair has naturally lost the black lustre and turned dark brown (and I'll be honest there's a smattering of silver in there too) and the brilliant blue little girl eyes have turned green - he is no longer the towhead with the bright shiny eyes. The lack of physical recognition doesn't bother me. What I don't care for is the lack of recognition in the person. His actions, his grooming of the victim, his lack of accountability for events prior to the consummation of his crime - his contemplation of the crime, and offhand indifference in the police transcripts - there is nothing of the guy I knew in any of that. I'm fairly confident his wife is feeling the same way.

It got me thinking - how much people change. I don't know that the high school me would look upon the today me and see anything that the "then me" would have expected from the "me today". But at the same time, while the dreams and goals of the younger me have diverged in to unforeseen - and at the time unimaginable - directions, it doesn't mean that my core values have changed. They've evolved most definitely, I've grown and developed and been able to refine what is of true value to me, and while the ultimate truths I had then may not have the same priority in my life, they still remain as part of the essence of me.