Who is your Hero?

I have always admired Matthew McConaughey. His presence, his words, and his philosophy carry a certain depth that resonates with me. One of my favorite films, Interstellar, introduced me to his work, but beyond the screen, it was his outlook on life that truly made an impact.

When he won the Academy Award for Dallas Buyers Club, his speech left a lasting impression on me. One part, in particular, stood out:

“… And to my hero. That’s who I chase. When I was 15 years old, a very important person in my life asked me, ‘Who’s your hero?’ I thought about it and said, ‘It’s me in ten years.’ Ten years later, when I turned 25, that same person came back and asked, ‘So, are you a hero now?’ I said, ‘Not even close.’ ‘Why?’ they asked. I said, ‘Because my hero is me at 35. You see, my hero is always ten years away. I’m never going to catch him, and that’s fine because it keeps me chasing someone.”

“So, whatever it is we look up to, whatever it is we look forward to, and whoever it is we’re chasing—to that, I say Amen. To that, I say, ‘Alright, alright, alright.’ And just keep living. Thank you.”

This has been one of my favorite Oscar speeches. In fact, a part of it even made it into the acknowledgment section of my undergraduate thesis. I loved it—until recently, when I realized something different.

Most people look up to their future selves, chasing a vision of who they want to become. But I’ve come to realize that I don’t look up to and chase my future self—I look up to my past self instead.

I am proud of the person I used to be—more than the person I will become. My future is somewhere foreseeable. I work harder, I keep improving, and as long as I stay on this path, I believe the days ahead will be good. But my past self? He had no certainty. He didn’t know if his efforts would pay off. He had no guarantee that things would work out. And yet, he pushed through.

He faced challenges he never thought he could overcome—and yet, he did. He walked into the unknown, pulled himself out of places he never imagined escaping, and gave more than his best—again and again—just so I could stand here today, at peace with where I am.

My past self was braver than my present one. My current self may have more clarity, more control, but back then, he didn’t. He still found a way. He was stronger when it mattered most. He cried, he failed, but he never gave up. He kept moving forward, pushing through everything so that I could have this moment—this clarity, this peace of mind.

And as Tom Hanks famously said:

“I wish I had known that this too shall pass. You feel bad right now? You feel pissed off? You feel angry? This too shall pass. You feel great? You feel like you know all the answers? You feel like everybody finally gets you? This too shall pass. Time is your ally, and if nothing else, just wait. Just wait it out.”

I know life won’t always be this optimistic. There will be times when it’s hard to look ahead—when nothing in the future feels certain. But when that happens, I can look back. Because my past self has already shown me how to stand firm when everything else feels uncertain.

So that’s who I look up to—myself, in different tenses. Because in a way, the past was once the present, and the present was once the future. And I exist in all.