Author: Andrea DeAngelis, Old Town Elementary TAG Specialist
Life has a way of throwing us into the deep end, leaving us to navigate the waters of who we are and who we think we ought to be. As a teacher of gifted students and the mother of two remarkable young adults, I’ve had a front-row seat to this journey—from moments of brilliant clarity to the times when executive dysfunction and self-doubt cast long shadows over their sense of self.
My son, now 21, and former RRISD TAG student, was once a whirlwind of ideas and curiosity, but managing the day-to-day was his Achilles’ heel. He’d forget assignments, lose track of time, and find himself overwhelmed by tasks that others seemed to manage effortlessly. The lack of executive functions wasn’t just a logistical challenge; it was a source of deep anxiety. It became a shadow, distorting how he saw himself in the mirror—a reflection clouded by fear of failure and the worry that he wasn’t measuring up.
For many children, and adults too, that shadow grows heavy. It whispers doubts: You’re not enough. You’ll never get it right. It’s easy to lose sight of who we are when the world tells us who we’re supposed to be. We start to believe that our worth is tied to expectations, to how well we fit a mold, or to how neatly we tick off life’s checkboxes.
But as Matthew McConaughey once said in Greenlights, “We cannot fully appreciate who we are if we only focus on the person we’re supposed to be.” It’s wisdom that resonates deeply. Growth doesn’t come from becoming someone else’s ideal; it comes from embracing the person staring back at us in the mirror, shadows and all.
Watching my children grow—especially now that they’re in college—I’ve seen the weight of their worlds shift. For some, maturity creeps in slowly; for others, it hits like a lightning bolt. My son is no longer the boy who once left his school binder in the refrigerator. He’s a young man who manages his responsibilities with confidence, cooking for himself, turning assignments in on time, remembering to pay his bills, and learning to be an adult. The impossible is, indeed, possible.
Yet, this transformation didn’t come from running away from the shadow. It came from stepping into it, facing it, and finding the light within himself. I want both my children to know that when life feels heavy, when the reflection in the mirror feels unfamiliar, they can find their way back to who they truly are. I want them to pause and look beyond the surface, remembering who they are at their core—their joys, values, and unique light. By letting go of expectations and reconnecting with what truly makes them feel alive, they can find their way back to the person they’ve always been.
To the parents reading this: anxiety, executive dysfunction, and life’s expectations will try to weigh your child down. But don’t let that shadow define them. Remind them to look deeper, to see the spark of who they were made to be. The person in the reflection isn’t perfect, but they are whole. And they are enough.
Let’s teach our children—and ourselves—that life isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about becoming the truest version of ourselves. As McConaughey so wisely put it: “Catch greenlights. Sometimes they’re easy to see; sometimes you have to create them. But don’t lose sight of the road you’re on.”
The reflection will always be there. The shadow may linger. But the person you see in the mirror deserves to be celebrated—every brilliant, imperfect, extraordinary piece.