Looking Back, Moving Forward

Nostalgia and Regret

Middle age has me feeling nostalgic—a little yearning, perhaps, to have another shot at it all, even though I know that’s not realistic. People often say they have no regrets, but what if I admit that I do? Am I one of the few?

The High School Hustle

Almost 25 years ago, I was fully immersed in my senior year, doing everything possible to secure a scholarship and get into a good college. I dreamed of being an actress, so I threw myself into every arts-related extracurricular: musicals, choir, plays, and forensics. My goal was simple: achieve, then achieve more, until I reached the top. But I was constantly in competition, not just with others but with myself.

With an almost perfect GPA, I found myself lumped in with the “smart kids”—that superhuman clique of students who seemed to excel at everything. Top scholars, top athletes, top performers. Yet, I always felt like an outsider. I was book smart and worked hard to succeed, but I lacked the natural, almost genius-like abilities that my peers had. They shined effortlessly. I was always pushing for what little space was left.

Reopening Old Memories

These memories came rushing back as my 25th reunion approaches. Nearly 25 years gone, and I’m starting to look back. One realization struck me: I never bought my yearbook that final year.

At the time, jealousy and frustration colored my view of that book. It symbolized all the missed opportunities, the roles I didn’t get, the popularity I didn’t achieve. I wasn’t in many photos, I wasn’t the lead in anything, I wasn’t a valedictorian, and I didn’t get the big scholarship. I was close to the top, but I never quite made it.

Now, as a forty-something adult, those thoughts seem a little silly. In high school, I was so focused on what I hadn’t achieved that I missed out on enjoying that fleeting time. I let perfectionism rule my life, when I could have embraced the freedom of youth. Back then, the expectations of others felt overwhelming, and they steered me toward practicality: a journalism degree instead of my dream.

The Yearbook Rediscovered

But back to that yearbook—I finally decided to buy a reprint, 25 years later, to see if those feelings still lingered. Flipping through the pages, I found traces of that old jealousy. The same top students dominated the photos, filling pages with their accomplishments. Out of curiosity, I looked up those seven standout students. Were they still at the top? In most cases, yes—they were lawyers, doctors, financiers, even a hedge fund VP. They were every bit as accomplished as I once thought they’d be.

And yet, seeing this didn’t hurt like I thought it might. Instead, I felt a strange sense of peace. I realized it no longer mattered. Comparing myself to them had held me back for so long, and I finally felt the weight lift. In fact, I discovered something surprising: I’d won an English department award in high school, one for excellence in research and writing. I didn’t remember it, and I certainly hadn’t valued it then.

Discovering My True Passion

My dream was to act, and when that didn’t work out, I shifted to broadcasting. I was still chasing validation, hoping to stand out. But with writing, I found a different satisfaction—a quieter, more lasting one. In the past few years, I’ve embraced my love for writing again, just as I did back then, only now I’m able to see its value.

Looking Forward, Letting Go

So yes, I have regrets. I regret letting perfectionism and competition consume me back then. It’s cost me time and peace, focusing on why I wasn’t like others instead of leaning into my own strengths. But I don’t want to look back anymore. After too much time spent reliving old memories, I’m finally ready to move on.

Here’s to living the next half of my life without regrets. Here’s to letting go of the past and living for myself.

The Unexpected Power of Love

Love Without Struggle

One thing I’ve strangely never had to struggle much with is finding love. My parents have always been together, no divorce, no drama. Forty-plus years, and they’ve barely fought. They avoid conflict, which can be a blessing and a curse at times. But overall, growing up in a small Minnesotan town was as good as it gets. I’ve got no complaints.

When it comes to romantic relationships, though, in the past I was always able to find them—just not the right one. Like most people, I went through my share of trial and error. With low self-esteem as a kid, I’d fall in love with the idea of love—someone paying attention to me made me feel worthy, especially when I couldn’t find that worth within myself. I often chose partners for the wrong reasons: physical attraction and validation. I didn’t really think about whether they aligned with my values or who I was at my core. To be fair, I was still figuring that out, and my values were evolving. Looking back, some of the guys I dated I wouldn’t even consider now because I know myself so much better.

Love Finds Its Way

It’s strange how love just falls into place. There’s no plan. It happens when it’s supposed to, and you find that person who makes you feel whole. I found that in Nic—my kindred spirit, my best friend, my confidant. We’re so alike, but different enough to balance each other. He’s everything I ever wanted when it comes to love.

I met Nic when I was in a low place, depressed over another relationship that had ended. I wasn’t even looking for someone. I was just living life. And that’s when it happened. It’s funny how when you let go and stop trying so hard, the right things just fall into place. Meeting Nic was like a dream. There was this instant, mutual attraction that I’d never experienced before. In the past, my relationships felt one-sided—either I wasn’t that into them or I was distracted by school or my career. I’d stay in relationships longer than I should, often out of guilt or because I couldn’t face the truth about my feelings. People-pleasing at its finest.

But with Nic, it was different. We were both there, fully present, and really in love, the way it’s supposed to be.

A Deepening Connection

Over a decade later, we’re still together. The intensity has faded a bit, but what’s replaced it is something deeper—a connection, a bond that’s hard to put into words. We have our own language now, our own little world that only we understand. It’s comforting, finding that person who gets you, who loves and accepts you for everything you are, flaws and all.

It started with attraction, but now it’s a deep love. Nic’s my soulmate. He makes waking up in this sometimes harsh world a little easier. Having him by my side, having that comforting place to go when life gets tough—that’s what makes it all worth it.

What Really Matters

It’s taken me a while to realize this, but life isn’t about the degrees you earn or the career you wish you had. It’s about the people who make it all worth it. And often, these people come into your life by chance. There’s no plan, despite what we’re told. We’re just living in the present, and the relationships we build can push us to be more than we ever thought possible.

In the end, it’s not about what we do. It’s about who we’re with.

Breathing Easier in the Crisp Air

The crisp air is both inviting and refreshing—I can breathe easier, feel more, without that suffocating heaviness. I welcome these fall days, even knowing the bitter cold is on its way. There's something about the clarity in the air, a coolness that cuts right through to my core. The thick, humid air that came before clung to the skin, wrapping around it like a damp blanket, clouding the mind and dragging your focus elsewhere. But this shift, this cool change, is a relief. It lets me breathe, lets me just be here, in this moment.

The Weight of Change: A New Season, A New Chapter
Being present, though, isn’t as simple as it sounds. I feel unsteady, unmoored in this new chapter where so much depends on me—both in my career and my personal life. I’m not quite sure where I’m steering this yet. Part of me wants to look ahead, but anxiety swirls, much like the humid air did, clouding my thoughts.

Navigating Uncertainty: Career and Life at a Crossroads
I wake up at night, my head pounding, replaying moments from the past few weeks, wondering if I made the right calls. I question how others perceive me, how they'll respond. I’m stuck in this cycle of second-guessing, unable to let go of what I can't change. But I know I have to. I have to release the weight of other people's opinions and focus on my own voice. I need to speak my truth, fearlessly.

Letting Go of the Past: Finding My Voice
Change is here, deep in my bones. I feel the cool breeze wrap around me as leaves float and fall through the air. A small yellow leaf lands on my keyboard—golden and fingernail-sized, its corner missing, torn away by the wind or perhaps brittle from time. It feels like a sign. A reminder to surrender to this change, imperfections and all. To let things unfold as they will.

A Sign in the Leaves: Embracing Imperfection
The suffocating weight has lifted. I can finally breathe again, fully, with all my senses—and that's something I won't let go of.