I was in the grocery store the other day when two men, younger than me but certainly no longer teenagers, made the comment that they had it good in school and how their kids didn’t get it – yet.
I have heard that sentiment before. High school being the best years of your life. The dances, the parties, the lack of responsibility, the dating life, the passing of notes behind the teacher’s back, the constant drama.
Because if the best years of my life are the four years when I was teen who knew little of the world, I want a re-do. More importantly, it says that the remaining 40 or 50 or more years of your life is crap. Shouldn’t we just kill ourselves if those are the best years of our life?
That is not how I remember it. Then again I was the kid who was picked on for being different – whatever that was. But it didn’t stop me. I still wrote bad poetry, played on the tennis team and went out for plays. And I hung out with friends.
You might notice that people say it would be college or your twenties or your thirties. Now I hear how 50 is the new 30. The rules are constantly changing as to the best time because, in truth, no one wants to believe those four years in your teens could ever only be the only best years.
If you ask me, it is usually wherever I am at in that moment. Maybe it is my desire to make lemonade out of lemons whenever possible but I also refuse to be way laid by regret.
Which doesn’t mean I don’t have them. There are things I wish I had done and things I wish I hadn’t done. I wish I had travelled more and seen a few things before kids came into the picture. But for the most part, I have no regrets. I have had the life I wanted.
Ten years ago was great because the kids were littler and at home. Ten years before that I was about to have my first child. Ten years from now is going to be interesting because I should have only one child living at
home. Watching them grow and change has made my life interesting. If I had not had kids perhaps I would have gone into a career that is round the clock because I do like to stay busy.
But to base life’s happiness on those four years of high school would be insane. It is a road to madness when you are constantly looking back and wishing you could be where you came from and there is no hope of going back.
Who would ever want to do that?