Retrospect

I’ve never been the type of person who believes our lives are already mapped out for us, as if the stars decided every step we’d take before we even learned how to walk. That every heartbreak, every detour, every moment that knocked us sideways was part of some grand, prewritten plan. But I do believe in something close.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. That every decision we’ve ever made, every twist in the road, has shaped us into the people we are today. And maybe that’s not as poetic as the idea of fate, but it’s real. Because when I look back on my life, I can see how even the seemingly small moments—the choices I made without realizing their weight—brought me to exactly where I am.

Take my ex, for example. The relationship itself? A disaster. But from that mess came the one true love of my life—my dog. I had always wanted one, but my mother’s house was far too pristine for paw prints and dog drool. That relationship, for all its flaws, led me to something that brings me unconditional love every single day.

Moving to Toronto? It shattered me at first. I didn’t want to leave my hometown, didn’t want to leave the only world I had ever known and at such a vulnerable age. But if I hadn’t, I never would have met the people who became my family. My people.

Becoming a hairstylist? It wasn’t the dream. Not the original one, anyway. It was the “safe” career. The backup plan. But it gave me patience. It gave me a front-row seat to thousands of people’s lives, their stories, their heartbreaks and triumphs. It gave me experiences I never would have had otherwise.

And then there are the what-ifs. The ones that haunt me on the nights I can’t sleep.

Like the opportunity I had at nineteen—to move to New York and attend one of the best fashion schools in the world. But I didn’t go. I don’t even know why, really. Fear? Comfort? The paralyzing weight of self-doubt? Guilt? I think about it sometimes. Where I’d be if I had taken that path. Would I still be living in my favorite city in the world right now? Would I be working for a top designer, or be one? Would my name be in the pages of Vogue? Would my life be something entirely different?

Maybe in another lifetime.

We all have those questions, don’t we? The ones that follow us like shadows. What would my life be like if I had made a different choice? If I had stayed in my hometown, would I be married by now? I can’t help but wonder what kind of person I would be if my life had taken a different shape.

But the truth is, we don’t get do-overs. We can sit here and play the “what-if” game all day long, but we will never get to go back and choose the alternate path. The only thing we can do is take what we’ve learned and decide where to go from here.

And right now? Right now, I’m at a crossroads.

I’ve been a hairstylist for almost fifteen years. That’s a whole teenager’s worth of years. And I don’t know if it’s what I want anymore.

There. I said it.

It’s not that I don’t love aspects of it—I do. But it was never the dream. It was the backup plan when New York wasn’t an option. And I don’t want to be the person who stays in a career just because it pays the bills or because I’ve been in it for so long that leaving feels impossible.

I want to wake up every morning and be excited to do what I do.

I think a lot of people are feeling this way lately. Like we’ve all been shaken awake. Like the past few years have made us realize that life can change in an instant, and that maybe we should stop playing it safe.

How many of us are stuck in jobs that drain us? How many of us stay in relationships that don’t make us happy? How many of us have cities we’ve always dreamed of moving to but never do because we’re scared? How many of us let the fear of failure keep us from even trying?

We settle. We shrink ourselves. We tell ourselves we can’t. That it’s too late. That we’re too old. That it’s unrealistic.

But why?

In 2014, I did something terrifying.

I remember sitting in my apartment, obsessed with this show House Hunters International. It was about people moving from their hometowns to other countries to start over. Boston to Argentina. Vancouver to London. Nashville to Tokyo. I would sit there and think, God, I wish I could do that.

And then one day, I stopped wishing. I decided.

A year later, I was on a 24-hour flight to Australia.

I wasn’t rich. I had an established career that I had built from the ground up. I didn’t have an apartment or job waiting for me when I landed. I had people in my life telling me I was insane for leaving. And I was terrified. I cried the entire way to the airport.

But I did it.

And to this day, it was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

I found an apartment in three days. A job in three weeks. I had the time of my life.

Fear could have stopped me. Easily. It almost did. But if I had let it win, I never would have had that chapter of my life.

And that’s what I keep reminding myself now.

I need to bring back that version of me. The one who jumped. The one who didn’t let fear decide for her.

I don’t know exactly what my next step is yet. But I know one thing for sure—I refuse to live a life that doesn’t make me wildly happy.

And I hope you don’t either.

So ask yourself: Is this the life I want to be living?

If the answer is no—fight like hell to change it. Because we only get this one.

Peace, love & live life to the fullest. Xoxo.