There are little
things we regret like eating six Cadbury’s crème eggs in the space of two hours
(yes, this has actually happened), or generous actions we learn to regret when
we have been taken advantage of by those we loved. Emotional regrets teach us
to not get caught up in other people’s shitstorms, serving us with knowledge of how to save face and pain along the way. And frivolous regrets end up with unworn shoes in the wardrobe.
But then there are
bigger regrets that we have no choice but to live with; negative relationships
that went on for too long with emotionally draining men who didn’t accept you
for the wonderful being you are.
We all have choices to
make and our motivation differs along the way; be it for love or loyalty, sheer
greediness when it comes to crème eggs, or simply plain naivety.
I try to live my life regret free; we are here to make mistakes along
the way and I figure it would be pretty boring if we were all perfect. However,
looking back, I would like to have the chance to do a few things differently.
Yet it’s only in the dead of the night, or on a tube journey when you swear you
caught a glimpse of an ex-boyfriend, that you find yourself asking; what if
some of those ‘big’ decisions have irreversibly changed the course of your
life?
My hairdresser pointed
out last night he has “always been impressed with the way you pick yourself up and
get straight back out there after every failed relationship AD…” Ok, so I
wasn’t very impressed with the “failed” comment; I like to see each and every
relationship as adding to the rich tapestry of what makes me ‘me’... But I’ll give myself credit where credit
is due; optimism can be a rare trait. Especially for someone like me who has
been around the block a few times when it comes to scraping the barrel of men in
London.
The way I see it, why
should I allow an ex-boyfriend cast me with shadows of doubt and insecurity, denying
me a happy future with someone who might just be around the corner? Someone who
I might be missing out on meeting, if I were to still be sitting around moping
for 'what could have been'.
Girls like me spend
our 20's telling ourselves; “we’re having too much fun to want to settle
down…” but suddenly that doesn’t quite cut the mustard once you reach 30. And now
I’ve reached that milestone, I inevitability compare my own situation with that
of my friends, wondering in the dead of the night if I should have perhaps ‘settled’. Gulp.
Which then ultimately arrives
me at the place where I wonder if my eternal optimism is flawed. Maybe I have missed the boat... Maybe I missed the opportunity.
That said; instead of sharing a bathroom with wet towels on the floor, toothpaste with no lid, loo seats always up and having to remember to pick
up dinner on the way home, I have a forceful independence, a packed diary that
anyone lacking in a social life would be envious of, a floor to ceiling
wardrobe that is mine (all mine!) and most importantly, I can do whatever the
sod I want to do, whenever I want to.
And suddenly it’s
occurred to me; maybe it isn’t the ‘emotionally unavailable’, ‘socially inept’ and
‘confused’ boys myself and my friends have become so accustomed to blaming it
on. Maybe it’s me… I am the main decision maker after all; I love my life and it’s going to take someone pretty special
to get me to give this all up.
Until then, I’m off to
fill my wardrobe with expensive shoes, dance until dawn, eat cheese on toast
for supper and go on holiday to far flung exotic places with the girls; for these are the glory days I will
one day look back on, sighing with regret that they will be no more.