First Times

The adolescent thought of “I don’t have enough time to do it all” and the maturing realization that “Oh, I have had plenty of time.”

Journal Entry One-Shot

I’m going on a trip in a few days. I’ll be flying to Denver then Seattle then back to Denver before heading home.

In June of 2021, I waited in the small destination airport of my hometown for hours as my flight was delayed again and again. Panic set in. I felt the derealization make me dizzy, and I struggled not to sob too terribly to the counter again as I asked her to please put me on a flight the next morning.

It was becoming clear that getting out of Florida that night was not going to happen. The handful of gates weren’t made to accommodate the crowd that buzzed around me.

I cried to my mom on the phone to make the 10 minute drive back to the airport to pick me up after I was rebooked the following morning. I used the extra hours at home to reassess my suitcase situation and take a long bath.

The same counter agent checked my bag when I re-entered the airport, and she let me know that if I had waited to get on the delayed flight the night before I would have been among the many stuck in Dallas overnight because all connecting flights were missed.

The rest of my trip had it’s far share of ups and downs. I was also dealing with back pain that manifested just before I left, and two trips to the chiropractor only helped so much.

But what the strongest recollections from that trip was not the anxiety or panic or pain or other delays that arose. I remember the soul-filling return to my other home in Vegas. Trying Dutch Bros Coffee and Egg Slut and Milk Bar and all the other delicious new food experiences.

I remember showing my best friend my Vegas for the first time and then meeting my other friend and business partner in-person for the first time. Staying at the Venetian, having breakfast in the French cafe, and an afternoon at Canyon Ranch—all firsts.

I remember the drive from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, the slightly delayed flight from L.A. to Denver, roadtripping with my best friend and her daughter all the way back to home to Florida.

My back hurt a lot, I had to manage the anxiety, and spending three days in the car with a toddler was not easy. But that is not what I remember most.

Now, I’ll be headed out again in just a few days. I’ll be meeting my best friend Meagan in Denver before we make our way to Seattle for the very first time.

I am anxious. I still have to pack, and I’m fighting the urge to buy a whole new wardrobe. I have work to wrap up, reminders to send.

But I am so goddamn excited.

I get to go on an adventure, I get to see my friends and a rapidly growing toddler, I get to visit a brand new city, and I get to do all of this because this is what I ached for as an adolescent: the freedom to go.

I really do have to fight against the inner dialogue that I’ve been robbed of opportunities before or that I robbed myself of them.

The lady at the gas station asked me today if I was 18 when I bought a couple of scratch-offs. I almost told her, “Yeah, almost ten years ago” but she spotted my driver’s license before I could.

I don’t want to continue collecting regrets as the years go by. I have two thoughts in my mind. The adolescent thought of “I don’t have enough time to do it all” and the maturing realization that “Oh, I have had plenty of time.” Both of these are quickly followed up by “Why did I waste that plenty of time I had in my early 20s or even during quarantine when I had nothing but time?”

Regardless of the what-ifs, the coulda-shoulda-woulda, the wish to rewind a little bit I can’t do that. I have no choice but to move forward.

If 18-year-old me could see what my life looks like in 10 years, she’d probably be pretty fucking impressed and relieved and a lot less anxious about some things.

So, as fucking terrifying getting on a plane for the first time after quarantine was last year, I cannot wait to go this time. I have no choice but to move forward with whatever happens on this trip and I can decide what I make of it.

I just need to finish packing and remind myself I always end up wearing less than what I pack and I can find a solution for anything I left at home.