For over a decade, I held onto a mental list of all the exhilarating experiences I wanted to pursue if only I wasn’t tied down by a traditional job. The allure of vibrant hair colors and edgy piercings always intrigued me—perhaps it was the thrill of the unconventional that captivated my imagination. When I finally left the corporate grind in 2010, I eagerly began to check off items on my list.
My first accomplishment was a simple yet joyful one: mastering the backspin and showcasing it whenever the moment arose. While my job didn’t explicitly prevent me from attempting this feat, the demands of my daily life never allowed it to take precedence. With my children napping for three glorious hours each day, I finally had the time to dedicate to this playful goal. I even added a touch of ’80s flair, leaning back and flashing a grin as I came to a stop. However, my backspin career had to come to an end after I accidentally took out my husband’s colleague—a seasoned ICU doctor—during a work event with an ill-timed leg sweep. Liability was not on my agenda.
Next on my list was experimenting with bold hair highlights. I embraced a rainbow of colors: pink, blue, purple; sometimes just a streak, other times a full head of vibrant hues. Striding into a PTO meeting, I hoped my colorful mane would convey a message of defiance against societal norms—at least until the color faded in a few weeks.
Then came my foray into playing the banjo. “Why the banjo?” people would ask, and I’d respond with a playful roll of my eyes, “Because you never know when this skill might become useful!”
I’ve also taken to making silly videos and sending them to my husband while he’s at work, just to remind him of how lucky he is to have me.
Most recently, I decided to get a nose ring—an endeavor that took years of contemplation. I’m not one to embrace pain lightly, and altering my face permanently was a decision that required serious thought. Previous attempts had been thwarted by unexpected mishaps, like the time my friend Alex and I drove to a piercing shop only to be chased by an overly enthusiastic piercer waving us in. After a brief detour that ended with us inadvertently hitting a possum, I knew that night wasn’t meant for life-altering decisions.
A couple of weeks ago, when my friend texted me about getting a piercing, I knew it was time to act. We arrived at the shop in my minivan, embodying the classic midlife crisis trio. Naturally, I went first. After signing a waiver and browsing stud colors, I found myself sitting down, head between my knees, fighting off a fainting spell—an experience I remembered all too well from my tattoo session. Fortunately, I didn’t faint this time, although I did find myself letting a few colorful words slip.
Now, I’m still adjusting to my new nose ring. Just yesterday during a spinning class, I forgot it was there and ended up snagging it on my towel. The painful jolt almost caused me to tumble off my bike! The instructor, thinking I was rallying the troops, cheered me on, completely oblivious to my predicament. I think I’ll be sitting out of spinning for a little while.
As I approach 42, I’m acutely aware of how swiftly life passes. Each day, I’m committed to living fully and bravely pursuing my passions, even when they scare me. I want my kids to remember me as someone who dared to leap into the unknown. “Look at her,” I hope they’ll say at my memorial. “She wasn’t afraid to take risks.” “Yeah,” they’ll add, “she was brave—once she got over the fainting spells.”
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In summary, I’ve decided to stop waiting to live boldly. Life is too short, and every day is an opportunity for adventure. Whether it’s a new hairstyle, a musical instrument, or a daring piercing, I’m ready to embrace all that makes me feel alive.