This thing we call life twists and turns, opening and erasing possibilities as we walk through our days. Do you ever wonder who you might’ve been if you’d taken that other path? I know I do…
I was going to be an entomologist. I was going to devote my life to studying moths. I’d loved animals all my life, especially the underrated and underseen. Which most definitely includes moths. I wasn’t really into dissection, or poop either. Moths seemed fairly safe from that. And the incredible subtle beauty of their wings and the incredible fuzziness of their tiny bodies called to me.
Then came 5th Form Biology. The subject was interesting. The teacher was okay. Yet I had to sit facing my chief antagonist. The bully and tormentor who hated my mother (a relief teacher at my high school) and so had to hate me. A year of sitting facing someone who hates you for a couple of hours each week is enough to destroy anyone’s interest in a subject, however interesting you might once have found it. And so it was.
That was also the year I discovered history and found that humans could be interesting, too.
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I was going to live in a brightly painted Roma-style caravan pulled by two ponies (one piebald, one skewbald) and spend my life travelling this country. A cat and a dog would also keep me company, as we slowly moved through the countryside. I wouldn’t need to own much or be much. I hadn’t really thought through the plumbing, groceries, or animal care. I was only 8.
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I nearly dated the other guy. The one I saw across a crowded lecture theatre in my first weeks in a new city and a new university. The one I keep exchanging grins with throughout that year of English 101. But I didn’t. The guy who became my abuser intervened and sent my heart down a different path.
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I was going to have a career in the public service, working my way up the ranks. Maybe reaching the heady heights of middle management one day! There was room for people who could research and write and think. But I got pregnant. With twins. No regrets. My lads have changed and enhanced my life immeasurably. I went on maternity leave and didn’t go back.
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I nearly wasn’t at all. I am the second child of three pregnancies. But that’s not my story to tell.
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So many possibilities. So many possible paths. So many choices.
Sometimes I wonder who I might’ve been if I’d pursued those other paths.
Sometimes I wonder if those other mes do exist in some parallel worlds of misunderstood quantum mechanics and sci-fi tropes.
Is there a world where I own hiking boots and spend my days tramping the hills pursuing tiny insects and being found by sandflies?
Is there a world where my amazing sons don’t exist, but I own several suits and attend select committees?
Is there a world where I became the concert clarinettist? The history professor? The dominatrix’s assistant? The rock singer? The Methodist minister?
Is there a world where I’m not, but someone else is?
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So much mystery. So much possibility.
Each of us contains multitudes. Each of us carries the things that weren’t alongside the people we are.
It’s not quite regret — at least not always. It’s more a sense of curiosity and wonder. That magic of how we end up here and now, doing what we do, being who we are. Very few of us have a straight and simple path through life. There are always things we choose to not do. Always dreams that fell aside.
That’s how we get here.
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As we move into the future, there will be more possibilities and more choices. Hopefully, we can learn from the ones we’ve already made — especially the ones we grieve. Hopefully, we can explore our potential paths with curiosity and kindness towards ourselves, as well as others.
And maybe we can revisit some of the possibilities we once left behind.
I may not own a brightly painted caravan or any ponies, yet I can still travel and explore. I might not be camped on a hillside studying moths, yet I can plant a garden that helps insects. I may not be a concert clarinettist, but I can still blow tunes with my local concert band.
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Sometimes I wonder what happened to that other guy I nearly dated. I’ve googled him occasionally over the years — including another attempt while writing this — but I’ve yet to find him. I hope he is well. I hope he found possibilities that work for him.
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