If you’re not middle aged, pick a younger age, IDK
She would be absolutely stunned. Probably wouldn’t believe me. At 43 I’m married to the guy I was dating at 19. At 19 I had dropped out of college and thought I wanted to be an artist; at 43 I’m already retired from a successful career in academic research. At 19 I had no thoughts about politics or the world as a whole (9/11 hadn’t happened yet); at 43 I’m pretty informed and opinionated. And she’d probably be surprised how much I’m into the outdoors, healthy living, and weightlifting, given that she had negative interest in those things. The rest is pretty consistent - e.g., I’ve always loved music from the '60s, fun nail polish, scifi, swimming, and handmade art (drawing, beading, etc).
“Thank you for warning. I’m leaving right now to make sure [name removed] is not able to enlist”.
My friend was killed by the United States Army.
He’d be disappointed that he doesn’t end up doing anything epic and world-changing, but then he’d immediately be relieved that he’s mostly got shit figured out. Wife, home, job, driving, cooking, all the basic stuff.
Then he’d realize he only thought he needed to do something epic because he couldn’t picture himself having those basic things figured out. This would take him a few minutes to process, so he wouldn’t say anything.
They’d probably be worried that I had gotten sucked into the interminable rat race, and wouldn’t believe me when I said I had found a way to be comfortable with it. I used to have panic attacks about the idea of entering the normal workforce and ending up in a job situation like my father did. Love the man, but he prioritized “providing” for the family over being present, and burned himself out doing it. I can see the nuanced differences between that and my situation now, but I never would have back then.
They wouldn’t believe that a relatively modest life could cost so damn much of what I take home. I make money that would make my 19yo head spin, and it’s still not enough to be as comfortable as I would like.
They’d be furious that I let my strong friendships of the time slip for over a decade.
They’d be worried about my weight and how far my general health has tanked. Walking everywhere and doing manual labor jobs had made it easier than I realized to stay healthy back then.
They’d be confused that I’m a decade into a different romantic relationship. That might cause them to more carefully examine the one they were in at the time. I’m not sure if cutting it early would have been better for me though. I learned and grew by years in the span of a few months when that relationship was dying.
Oooh yeah. Break-ups can turn out to be wild growth phases sometimes, if you’re paying attention and approaching it in a useful way.
“Whoa. You actually talk to and get along with Dad? I can’t stand him. He’s such a huge dick.”
Yeah. Your going to call him that to his face at some point in a few years. It goes over better than you’d expect.
That sounds like an interesting story! Up for hearing it if you wanna share. Either way, glad it worked out ok :)
The short version is that my father was both a victim and perpetrator of the cycle of abuse. When I was a kid, he was an angry man who would often explode in a violent rage. I ran away from home when I graduated from high school because I hated him and didn’t want to be around him anymore.
Eventually I learned that he wasn’t a bad person at his core. He genuinely wanted to do the right thing. He never had much of a chance. His own father destroyed him. Some of the stories he told me about his dad, when I was a kid, are horrible and sad. I think realizing that he was just a very broken man made it easier to forgive him.
We’ve talked about it a lot over the years. He is genuinely sorry for the way he treated me and my siblings and has lots of regrets. He’s not perfect but he is a good “Papa” to my kids and we get along pretty well nowadays.
I am more like my dad than my 19 year old self probably thought I would ever be. But I managed to mostly hang on to the good parts and get rid of the bad ones. My kids will never learn to fear me the way I feared my dad.
P.S. The time I called him a dick to his face.
I was in my mid 20’s. I called him on the phone to confront him about something he had done. All of a sudden, he blurts out, “why don’t any of my kids want anything to do with me?” At this point, I was very angry with him and didn’t care what his response was. I said, “Dad, we want to have a relationship with you but you make it really hard when you’re being a dick all the time.”
When I was a kid I would have paid dearly for saying something like that to him. The beating would have been fierce and merciless. When I said that he kind of just stopped and I could tell he was considering what I had said. I don’t know why but I think he actually took it to heart.
That’s sad that you all had to deal with it, but awesome that you managed to break out of that cycle of abuse. Sounds almost a bit collaborative over the long run… Thanks for sharing!