All the Things I Could Have Done.

I mentioned it before, but I’m going to mention it again. When I was young, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I just figured you grow up, get married, and have a family. I didn’t give much thought to what I wanted to pursue in school and a career never really crossed my mind. 

I got a boyfriend a couple of years out of high school, and we stayed together for a few years after that. When we broke up, it was like, “Ok, now what?” I had no degree, worked multiple dead-end jobs, was living paycheck to paycheck, and the life that I thought I was going to have failed before it even got started. 

At that point, I picked myself up and began building my own life and didn’t really stop – until now. Now, I’ve reached this plateau. I achieved all the professional goals I set for myself along the way. Again, I’m back questioning, “Now what?”

But that’s another post for another day. On this plateau, I’ve been looking at what’s in front of me and behind me. Today’s post is about reflecting on the journey that led me here, and would I still be on the same plateau if I took a different path?

Recently, I watched the movie Look Both Ways on Netflix. If you haven’t watched it yet, ‼️spoiler alert‼️. It’s about a young girl who is facing possible pregnancy, and we journey through what her life would look like if she was pregnant and if she wasn’t pregnant. By the end of the story, we see that she essentially reaches the same destination but gets there in very different ways.

To be honest, this movie brought me a lot of comfort. Because lately, all I can seem to think about is all the things I could have done. And would I still be in the same place today?

I have a lot of different interests and most ideas, desires, or fears I don’t share with anyone. Partly because when you share things with people, they have an opinion. And I’m really not interested in hearing theirs. 😬 But when you are young and growing up, you need the support of your family. And because you don’t have much life experience, they guide you, tell you, (or fail to guide or tell you) how to get from Point A to Point B. 

You follow the path they put forth, because that’s the safest way, and they know the trail route. But maybe you would prefer to explore. Maybe you want to take a more challenging path to build resilience and create more impactful memories. Maybe you want to see the waterfall, not the ocean. Maybe you want to lead to see where the path takes you, but they choose to continue guiding you.

While these may seem like caring and loving gestures of a supportive family, they are also secure attachment inhibitors. We need to feel supported to explore, reassured and comforted in that exploration, and safe and protected on our journey or if we fall into danger. We need a safety net, not someone encouraging us to never leave the ground.

When I think of all the things I have done, I can’t help but think that, yes, I would be in the same place. Because in certain cases, I did take the roundabout. For a lighthearted example, I rode horses when I was young and got away from it for about 25 years. Here I am today, again riding horses. 

While part of me feels unsettled like I could have done more, the other part of me feels confident I’m supposed to be where I am. Because I did take a challenging path. I did build resilience. I did create impactful memories. In some cases, I saw the waterfall and the ocean, and I did get to take the lead. 

The picture of what I anticipated that explorative path to look like has been influenced by books, movies, and social media. It has been curated by other peoples’ stories and has left me feeling unfulfilled. But when I take the time to truly reflect on the chapters of my life that have been lived, a complete story emerges that reminds me I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.