Tuesday, February 9, 2016

What if?

I look in the mirror at my short hair and fading lipstick.

I like the idea of growing it out. I’m looking for the perfect shade of purplish-wine.

I think: What if? What if my hair was long and had the exact beach wave I’ve been trying to get for the past six years. What if that lip color was exactly the way that girl wore it on that one blog, what if it were $6, in CVS, right next to the face wash and the baby Tylenol.


I open the fridge and see leftovers from last night, uneaten yogurt, and a half-empty carton of eggs.

I’m wondering what to make for dinner. I’m hungry right now.

I think: What if? What if the lettuce was washed and the carrots were for cut and the sweet potatoes were peeled. What if there was a green juice waiting for me, freshly-pressed and full of hope. What if there was an acai-bowl place down the street and homemade granola on the counter and a meal plan that required no research.


I sit on the couch, scroll through the channels.

I should go for a run. I should clean the kitchen. I should only be here for half an hour.

I think: What if? What if my workout clothes were laid out beforehand, matching sneakers and sports bra and I stuck to that 20-minute routine. What if guilt didn’t come dressed up as dirty sinks and empty refrigerators and just one more episode of Downton Abbey. What if it was 75 and sunny and a run outside could be paired with a baby stroller and a new podcast. 


I stare at a blank screen and write a to-do list. 

I have an article idea, a book idea, a photography idea. I have a toddler and a house and a full time job.

I think: What if? What if I woke up early to do yoga and meditate. What if I made time to write, every day, because nothing fuels me more, or better. What if I planned date nights and weekend trips and we all wore clothes in similar colors and got together during the golden hour to make sure our photos had the best light.


I lie down on the bed and open a book.

That closet isn’t organized. That pile of shoes is still there. I’m reading.

I think: What if? What if wondering doesn’t make me sad or un-hopeful? What if the thoughts and wishes and the would-be’s and could-be’s and the maybe should-be’s set themselves up in the world and just be. What if some days there were excuses and some days there weren’t. What if now...what if now I’m just reading.

[photo via unsplash


  1. I LOVE this. Dinner. The filthy stovetop. That pile of toddler clothes in the closet. A million ideas. A million worries. You totally captured it ;)

  2. This is good in the "damn, I wish I wrote that" sort of way. Love!