if we could live life backwards
Maybe it’s the shockingly big birthday on my horizon, or perhaps just the quiet days of summer, but lately I’ve been thinking about what life might look like if we could live it backwards.
Imagine if we could look at our lives through the formidable lens of age, with all the knowledge, experience, and hard-earned wisdom we’ve accumulated through our middle years (okay, maybe our later middle years), and somehow apply it to our past.
What would we change? Would we have made different choices? Would we have lived differently?
Unfortunately, we don’t get that magical do-over. But if I could rewind and tweak a few things—just reach up and grab some of that low-hanging fruit—I know exactly where I’d start.
Firstly, I would have embraced naps. The joy of a good nap is the ultimate luxury. I spent far too many years resisting—first as a stubborn toddler, and later as an adult who feared it might seem lazy or unproductive to spend an hour with my feet up.
As a teenager, I would have skipped the baby oil and the sunbathing (yes, Mom, you were right). I would’ve kept my head far away from that record album wrapped in Reynolds Wrap, angled just so for maximum UV exposure.
And that perm. Mom? I still have no words to explain that decision.
I’d have stood taller. Sat straighter. Slouched less. (Once again, Mom was right - posture matters.)
I would have made more of college. Attended every class. Gotten to know my professors. Savored the learning rather than treating it as something to get through. I would have partied less and studied more (to our incoming freshman - take note).
And I’d have known—without a doubt—that a Long Island Iced Tea is never a good idea.
I would have passed on those low-rise jeans that made me feel “hip” (but too exposed). Worn earplugs at concerts no matter how “uncool.” Cared less about what others thought of me. Worn sensible shoes instead of the cute ones that were a size too small (comfort over style every time).
But if I could truly go back and make a change or two, I would have showed up as a parent differently. I would have navigated more thoughtfully the tricky space between doing for my kids and allowing them to do for themselves.
To be clear, I’m not saying we got it all wrong—we didn’t. And I hope our kids know that they are infinitely loved and treasured—they are.
It’s just that, along with these wrinkles, I’ve been gifted a new perspective.
Pre-pre-travel soccer? Not that important.
The Beanie Babies (Bongo the Gorilla, Gobbles the Turkey, and Peanut the Elephant), Pokémon cards, Power Rangers? Maybe not worth all the time (and money) I thought they were.
What I really value now are the moments that felt small then - family dinners, movie nights, competitive poker games during lockdown. Quality time with the people that I love.
COVID forced us to slow down and reconnect—but did it really need to take a global pandemic to remind me what matters?
And as a mom, I wish I’d shifted sooner from secret service agent and fixer to listener. Often, I jumped in to solve problems that weren’t mine to fix. (I could have used a good strip of duct tape—still could, some days.)
Parenting is wired into us biologically - to protect, to shield, to help. But challenge builds resilience. Hardship strengthens character. Our kids are capable of so much when we let them be.
And maybe—just maybe—if I had lived life backwards, I would’ve seen sooner that the degree, the grade, the goal, the win—they’re not the story. The real story lives in the messy, beautiful, ordinary days we rush through on the way to somewhere else.
Now, standing on the precipice of 60, this isn’t about regret. It’s about growth. It’s about being able to look back and laugh, even at the bad perms and worse decisions.
“My destination is no longer a place, but rather a new way of seeing.” –Marcel Proust
So no, we don’t get to live life backwards. But maybe we can live it sideways—with the vision of hindsight and the inspiration to keep learning, to keep moving, to keep on going (even with increased needs for Ibuprofen).
Today, I am chasing fewer milestones (although I have that big one chasing me) and I am happy with just showing up - really showing up - for the people I love.
And because I am a mom, and I can’t find the duct tape, here’s a few pieces of advice to our daughter as she begins this next chapter:
Be the kind of person your future self will high five.
Call home. Not because you have to, but because we already miss you, and we’re also probably standing in your old room getting weirdly emotional.
And wear shoes (not the cute ones) that will let you dance all night.