December 7, 2012
I would praise more and complain less. Work more and slack off less. Bake cookies, knit, drink wine, and be the perfect mother.
I’d be a triathlete, fluent in four languages, and a tireless volunteer.
I would have saved more money, traveled more places, and learned how to dress better.
I would never be jealous of another woman’s figure, never covet another’s lifestyle, never say something I’d later regret—or fail to say something I should have said.
I’d be a master of sparkling conversation at social events, a better housekeeper, and a five inches taller.
…my life is good.
The things in my world—or about myself—that I really care about changing, I’m working on. And those that only matter to other people, I’m learning to let go.
I am a work in progress.
I can’t go back and change what I’ve done or failed to do. I can’t—and don’t want to—change who I am at my core.
I can only learn from my regrets and successes and take those lessons forward. I can only learn to embrace who I am, inside and out, and be the best me I know how.
And that, I think, will make a better life.
Photo credit: Giovanni Boldini [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons