If you could turn back time...

July 18th 1994 . I would have begged my husband to not go to work that day . Then he wouldnt have died in a car wreck and my life would have been vastly different and certainly much happier.

R1 - so sorry for your loss. That's awful.

For me, I recognize that we tend to see our youth and those decades through rose-tinted glasses, but it just feels like there was more freedom and flexibility in the 70s and 80s. You could live in a big city and rent wasn't crazy. You could get jobs that paid relatively well without having roommates. Houses were affordable. Everyone was thin.

Something went wrong - starting in the late 90s. oh well. I try not to think about it.

I would go back to the summer of 2000 for a day or two. I was just starting out in New York City then, very young and free. I had a good job and worked hard but, after work, the day was basically just starting. I had a long night of freedom and adventure ahead of me. Things are fine now, but I miss the excitement of those days. I still live in NYC but the magic isn't there as much anymore.

I’d be Hell On Wheels.

Get my nonverbal learning disorder and other invisible disabilities diagnosed during or just after high school in the mid to late 90s. I probably would have given my diagnosis by the same useless money hungry psychologist that pinpointed my problems when I was 29, but it put a label on all my lifelong difficulties. Then get career coaching after that.

I need cheering up. This'll do!

I let a 4 1/2 year relationship go on way too long. I often think back to the 6 month mark when I noticed what became the first of many red flags. Although I wasn't in love yet, I remember thinking it was a great six months, and pushing myself to stick with it because I had a habit of letting people go too soon.

Turned out it was a good habit. I should have trusted my instincts.

IF I could go back to then with what I know NOW, would go back to the mid-1950s and somehow get away from my abusive control-freak parents. It was not a normal upbringing. Growing up with them left me without a sense of sticking up for myself. Kids go right after you when they know you won't fight back. Don't know what the outcome would have been but I wouldn't let people inside or outside of my home abuse me.

August 2006: The man I loved since I was 17 took me to lunch and finally admitted he was struggling with an addiction (I was well aware). He said he was going to Mexico to get clean. I begged him to not do that. I begged him to stay and, at the very least, he would have me there to support him. Even if that meant letting him work on his sobriety his own way.

He insisted that he go and that I move on. Said that he didn't want me around to see him struggle. He was much older than I was (26 at that point) and I tended to acquiesce to him when he put his foot down. He was always the strong one, the stable one. He was the best. Truly. Until that fucking drug ruined everything.

That was the last day I saw him. Ran into his brother a few years later and he was still using.

I wish I would have fought harder for him and for us, but I know that it wouldn't have changed anything. I really loved that man. To his core.