You ever look back on life and think, “Well, that was something”? Yeah, me too. But here’s the thing: regrets? Nope, not a single one. Zero, zilch, nada. Well, unless you count that time I trusted GPS and ended up somewhere that even Google didn’t recognize. But I digress.
Regrets? Still none. Nostalgia, though? Oh yeah, we’re running at full throttle there, nostalgia: 50 and rising.
It’s funny how your mind works as the years roll by. The hard stuff gets hazy, and what you’re left with are the golden highlights.
The wild brainstorms where someone always said, “That’s crazy,” but somehow, “crazy” was exactly what worked. And sure, there were late nights and days where coffee was essentially a food group, but man, there was something magical in that hustle.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t miss waking up after a 2-hour nap, staring blankly at a spreadsheet as if it held the answers to life itself. But I do miss that fire, the “let’s take over the world” energy that had us running on pure adrenaline (and, let’s be honest, some questionable snack choices).
If I could go back in time, would I change anything? Not a chance. Except maybe to warn my younger self about the dangers of gas station burritos.
The thing about nostalgia is that it’s like a good pair of jeans, it stretches and fits more comfortably over time. Those sleepless nights? Now they’re kind of funny. The big failures? They’re just stories with a punchline.
Everything looks a little better in the rearview mirror, doesn’t it? Not because it was perfect, far from it, but because it was real.
Regret doesn’t really do it for me. It’s like wishing you’d ordered the salad after you’ve already eaten the burger. Why bother? You enjoyed it in the moment, and now you’re just hungry for dessert.
Life’s like that: no point in wishing for a redo when the whole experience was worth it, even the bloopers. And trust me, there were bloopers.
So, if you ask me what I’d tell my younger self, it wouldn’t be to take it easy or avoid mistakes. Nah, I’d probably just say, “Buckle up, it’s going to be one hell of a ride, and don’t skimp on the nap breaks.” Because, as much as the memories make me smile, it’s the journey that makes it all worth it.
Here’s to living without regrets, but with a healthy dose of nostalgia, the good kind. The kind that makes you laugh out loud at things that once made you sweat.
Because, after all, what’s life without a few stories to tell? Even if some of those stories include ill-advised decisions at 3 AM.