It was a rocky road, and I (don’t) want a do over…

Posted May 16 2011, 9:44 am in , ,

So I’ve got a  hypothetical for you–because I love hypotheticals.  You come across a  cool looking rock one day.  It’s different, like you, and all it needs is a good shine to make it really stand out.  Someone to take an interest.  But when you rub the dust and grime from its surface, you find there’s genie living in your rock.  And as a thank you for setting him free (it was getting pretty cramped in there) he offers you a single do over.  Rules are simple.  You can go to any point in your life between the ages of five and eighteen and change one thing.

Pretty sweet deal, right?

So I think to myself, when’s it gonna be?

The day I jumped off the roof to impress the older kids so they’d think I was cool enough?

No…  That taught me that anyone who’d ask me to do something like that–allowing me to break my knee and four fingers in the process–wasn’t cool enough for me.  Well, that, and God didn’t give humans wings because we weren’t intended to fly.  This may be where my issue with planes comes from.

Maybe the day I decided not to put my  seat belt on?  I was in my first bad car accident and ended up getting thrown from the car through the windshield.  That’d be worth erasing, right?

That day sucked, but nope.  I wouldn’t change it.  Because after that day, I was religious about wearing a seat belt.  And six years later, when a car hit me head on in icy weather, the seat belt actually saved my life.

Or maybe I’d go back and meet my husband earlier.  We had so many near misses.  With friends, family, in school…yet we didn’t meet till I was eighteen.

Looking back, it’s almost funny.  We were in so many of the same places at the same time, or just missed each other by minutes, but I wouldn’t change it.  We weren’t ready to meet back then.  We were different people.  Hell, we probably would’ve hated each other.

Everyone has things in their past they regret.  Moments of stupidity.  Missed chances.  Things you either said and wish you could take back, or maybe didn’t say and wish you had.  The question comes down to, what lessons am I willing to sacrifice?  In the end, for me anyway, the answer is none.  Sure, my life was shitty at times.  Who can’t say that?  There were plenty of dark moments and days I thought I wouldn’t be able to pick my head up off the pillow.  But every minute of it made me into me.  Changing even the tiniest little thing would change who I am.  It would change the person my husband fell in love with–funky quirks and all.  It’d change the fanatically loyal friend I turned out to be.  And it would change my writing, because if I got rid of any of the bad moments, I’d lose my edge.

Going back and changing something might not make a huge impact, but its just not something I’d risk.  It took a lot to get where I am now, and I like it here.  I wouldn’t change a thing.

Your turn.  Would you do it?  Take the do over?  At what point would you go back to?  Or would you pat the genie on the head, thank him for his time, and move on?




8 responses to “It was a rocky road, and I (don’t) want a do over…”

  1. No, most definitely not. The risk of not having my beautiful wife and wonderful children would be too great. Even given an expanded timeline where I could just go back a few years and save my father, I’d have to decline. And what if that simple do-over prevented me from finding the do-over rock to begin with?

  2. Traci Bell says:

    As terribly tempting as it would be, no, I wouldn’t take the do-over.  Like you, I can think of valuable lessons I’ve learned from the challenging/not so good times!  Well…maybe that haircut fiasco in high school… 

  3. Ciara Knight says:

    No way. I’m not touching that. Anything I did prior to my children could change their existence. That’s not something I’d ever want to touch.

  4. Rfirasek says:

    Jus, I thought about this long and hard and I do have a do over. My husband impregnated me the week after we married. I was 18. I say  “impregnated” because there was a bottle of Korbel involved, lol. Okay, on to my moment. I’d like to go back to the moment (four weeks later) and change my reaction. My daughter is the most precious thing in the world to me and the guilt still gets to me sometimes at my reaction–the less than happy tears still haunt me. But, I can honestly say it has made me appreciate her more 🙂

    • Jus Accardo says:

      I asked a lot of people this question over the weekend.  And I was surprised how many said they WOULD go back.  Of all of them though, your has to be the sweetest reason!

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