Choose an adventure...

I’ve been home sick for an entire week. My daughter is on antibiotics, I’m on antibiotics, and even the cat is on antibiotics. Apparently, we’re going for a group discount on recovery.

Taking a week off work right before my actual vacation is less than ideal, but I suppose my body decided it was time for a mandatory reset. Between grad parties and birthdays, it’s been nonstop since late June, and "me time" has been a foreign concept.

During my week of alternating between fever dreams, Netflix, and sleep, I’ve had plenty of time to ponder. I also finished a few chapters in my current book about choices—specifically, the "Choose Your Own Adventure" variety. It poses the question: if we die and get to choose a new path—maybe one we considered but didn’t take—what would it look like? As a chronic overthinker, this sent me down a spiral of "what-ifs" so deep it felt like I was digging a hole to China.

The main theme, exacerbated by my binge-watching of period dramas like Outlander, is love. Not the "I love my family" kind, but the "romantic" kind. You know the drill: Is there someone out there destined for me? Did I choose wrong, and am I now set up for solo living forever? Did I waste my "prime," and am I now destined to be a divorcee for the rest of my life—and is that actually so bad?

I messaged my friend Molly the other day, asking, "What if I never have sex with another person again?" Molly, ever the optimist, insisted she was certain I would. The last time was... well, let’s just say it was a disaster. It was date three or four, the houses were kid-free, and it was a total bust. I should have known the moment he kissed me like a lizard. It was entirely one-sided, and despite my best efforts to make it a team sport - I literally tried coaching him - the guy clearly didn't know the rules. He gave me the "ick", and that well was over a year ago.

After that, I essentially swore off dating. Did I mention that on date two, this same guy was already talking about me meeting his kids? I ignored that red flag, and that is one flag i will never miss again!

I also find myself wondering if I will ever experience intimacy again. Not just the big stuff, but the small things: a hand on the sofa, sitting together in comfortable silence while reading. What if I never get to kiss someone again? Not the polite peck you give your grandma, but the deep, full-mouthed, knee-weakening kind (no lizards thanks). If Molly is right—and she usually is—then the choices I make now mean that I will have that meaningful kiss again. And, yes, there might even be some great sex. (Sorry, Mom.)

Back to choices: Did I choose wrong when I married for the second time? Probably. I’ve learned the hard way that a man who cheats once will likely do it again, regardless of how much time passes. Did I choose wrong by moving to BC in my twenties and staying for six years? Absolutely not. It gave me life experience and priceless memories with my friend Tom, whom I still miss dearly. I’m sure I’ll write about him one day, but not yet.

My career and eduction path has not been clear or linear but at the end of the day I’m happy and love what I do.  Was it the plan - not at all. My plan was to teach elementary school.  My last year of Uni my grandfather died, I was sad, and I ran out of money, got engaged (did not marry that guy) and moved to BC.  Do I still wonder what if I got that teaching degree - of course I do. In my life I have started and restarted a few times and as said above I am happy.  I guess along the way I have chosen my own adventure and they keep coming…

So, I’m still pondering choices. I’m not really one for regrets—I prefer to chalk everything up to "life experience"—but there are definitely a few paths I would, and should, have chosen differently. Luckily for me I still have lots of time to choose whatever adventure comes my way - once the recovery is over that is.