“What If?” Is a Scary Phrase

Recently, a close friend of mine lost his father. Naturally, it got me thinking about my relationship with mine.

The first thing that hit me—hard—was the reminder that life is fleeting. People come and go. Bad things happen, good things happen. There are moments of pure joy and relationships that shape us… and sometimes break us. Some of those memories have even led me into hours of therapy I’m still not sure how I paid for. But I digress.

My younger sister, dad, and me

I didn’t have a close relationship with my dad growing up. He just wasn’t around. That’s not to say he didn’t care—it’s just complicated. Military life comes with its own set of rules. For one, I never had a friend longer than two years. Not because I wasn’t a good friend, but because we all moved constantly. I still remember my best friend from elementary school moving to Alaska. (How were we supposed to keep in touch without the internet back then?)

My dad spent nights on base, weekends in training, and eventually re-enlisted after a short-lived retirement—this time in Panama. Needless to say, he missed some of the most awkward and formative years of my life: the teenage ones. And honestly, I’m still not sure about all the reasons why he wasn’t around more.

Then, when I was about 27, something shifted. Out of nowhere, my dad reappeared and started reaching out consistently. We don’t see each other all the time, but we email regularly. And through those conversations, I’ve started to see parts of myself in him. I finally understand where my personality came from.

Still, I can’t help but wonder about the future.

Even something as joyful as wedding planning has brought its challenges. Getting a response from him about anything is like pulling teeth. And while I want him involved, I feel caught between not wanting to try too hard and fearing the regret of never having tried enough.

I want him to be part of my life now. I want him to be part of my future kids’ lives. I want him to show up—not just for the big events, but the small moments too.

I don’t want to look back and ask, “What if I had tried harder to build that relationship?”
Because, honestly? That’s all I really want.
A better relationship—before it’s too late.

My dad back in the day on the bottom right corner

Finding Myself: Learning to Reclaim My Path

The last few weeks, I’ve been doing a kind of soul search—trying to find emotional balance and reconnect with who I am.

I haven’t figured it all out yet.
But there’s been a little clarity.

Back in high school, I remember being so sure of myself. I had dreams, goals, direction. I knew who I was and where I was going.

But life happened.

Some big, unexpected things threw me off course—and since then, I’ve kind of just been coasting. Not falling apart… just floating.

Realizations in Singleness

Now that I’ve been single for over a year and a half, it’s becoming clearer:

I allowed people and situations to cloud my purpose.

I used to have so much drive. So many ideas.
Now, I find myself wondering where all that energy went.

Still—somehow—I know I’m working toward something.
And even though I’m not fully there yet, I’m halfway to the goal.

Where I Go From Here

What I need now is to find the balance between:

• Who I used to be

• Who I am now

• And who I’m meant to become

Most importantly, I need to figure out what it means to be truly happy.
That’s the goal. Not just accomplishments, not just checkboxes.

Genuine joy.

I know what I want.
I just have to pull myself out of this rut—and keep moving toward it.