Introduction
When I watched My Old Ass (2024), I didn’t expect a time-travel teen comedy to leave me speechless by the end. On the surface, it’s a lighthearted story: a girl who receives advice from her future self right before heading to college. But beneath its humor and tenderness lies a deep message about the value of living through our mistakes, of accepting that not everything can be avoided, and that growing up hurts—but it teaches. This is one of those films I truly understood only now, with time, because the version of me that might have seen it as a teenager wasn’t ready to hear it.
The plot and its meaning
The protagonist, Elliott, is a teenager ready to start college, but her life takes a sudden turn when her adult self shows up to warn her: "Don’t fall in love with that boy." From that moment on, the story blends coming-of-age with soft sci-fi, and a heavy dose of humanity. The film asks: if you could avoid heartbreak, would you? What seems like a simple warning turns into a reflection on free will, maturity, and the courage to feel everything.
What we don’t understand when we’re young
As teenagers, we believe everything is forever—love, friendship, pain. We live like every decision defines our whole future. My Old Ass portrays that stage with authenticity: impulsive, chaotic, emotional. But it also makes clear something we only learn with time: failing doesn’t ruin you—it shapes you. Elliott’s future self doesn’t show up to save her, but to remind her that what she’s about to go through is valuable even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts.
The adult self and empathy toward the past
The most beautiful part of the film is seeing an adult version of oneself who doesn’t mock or regret the past—but understands it. In that meeting between young and future Elliott, there’s a compassion we should all have for who we used to be. As I watched, I couldn’t help thinking about what I’d say to my 17-year-old self. I probably couldn’t prevent any of their mistakes—but I could tell them they’d survive. That everything that’s going to hurt will also build them. That love, even if it ends, is still worth it.
Why this film matters
My Old Ass joins the ranks of movies like Lady Bird or 13 Going on 30 that remind us growing up is complicated—but also beautiful. It doesn’t try to teach us how to avoid suffering, but how to live it with meaning. And in a time when many young people search for quick answers, this film gives us something more powerful: the idea that our experiences, even the painful ones, are part of what makes us whole.
Personal closing
When the film ended, I sat in silence. I thought about all the times I wanted to warn myself. About the people I lost, the paths I took, and the ones I didn’t. My Old Ass gave me something few films ever have: the feeling that my past wasn’t a mistake, but a brave version of me doing the best they could. And if I could travel back now, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d just sit beside them, hold their hand, and say: “Thank you for not giving up.”
¡Comparte lo que piensas!
Sé la primera persona en comenzar una conversación.