This past weekend was my birthday. FORTY EIGHT. My daughter made me a delicious triple decker chocolate cake (from scratch!). She even put on a “4” and an “8” candle on top of the cake. She had dug the candles out from a box where I keep all my children’s candles from their previous birthdays. These mismatched, sparkly candles that spelled out 48 seemed almost obscene in a hilarious way. It was a wonderful weekend of family, oysters and champagne.
With this many birthdays under the belt, it’s difficult not to reflect and marvel at the time passing by and celebrate all the good times (and regrets too). I’m not one of those people who claim that they have no regrets. You won’t find me quoting Frank Sinatra, “Regrets I’ve had a few; But then again, too few to mention.” Really? Too few? Regrets are my proud battle scars, just as my wrinkles and sun spots are. I have so many regrets, I could probably write a book about them and how they helped me to (hopefully) be a better person. They expose all the bad and naive decisions and judgments I made over the years and the path they led me down to end up where I am. So, I own them proudly, as much as I do with my good decisions and accomplishments.
So, to celebrate my birthday, I would like to share with you some of my minor and major regrets that have made me a better person today (in random order).
Sun screen. To all my dear friends who worshipped the sun with me while we were living in Italy, you know what I mean. I wish I listened to my mom and protected myself better. I’m not exactly a walking raisin, but I do envy these Asian women with porcelain skin who look like they’ve been wearing SPF 125 all their life.
Immigrant shame. I don’t know if my brother and I were taught to feel this way or we just picked it up along the way, but we felt constantly embarrassed about our immigrant life when we were growing up. The fact we lived in a tiny little apartment when everyone lived in a sprawling, colonial house in the suburbs. The fact my parents barely spoke English. The fact my parents owned a series of uncool small businesses instead of working at a fancy bank or in an office. The fact that we had to help my parents at their various stores on the weekends instead of going out with friends. Maybe it’s because we swam competitively and swimming was such a white, suburban sport to do, especially in the 1980s, and we could see the stark difference with other families. Looking back, I would have been so damned proud of how hard my parents worked and how brave they were to make a new life in a totally foreign land (with no Google, GPS or cell phones).
No plans, no ambitions. I had no plans or goals as a young adult. I didn’t day dream of anything. I wasn’t ambitious about anything. I just took on whatever opportunity that came along my way. I was fortunate and blessed. But I wish I had taken a more intentional direction in my life. There are very few things more satisfying than working hard and achieving your goal. Bumbling along just isn’t the same even if you end up with enviable jobs and titles.
More art, less politics. I studied politics and history in college. Now I realize that what I learned, I could have learned through a few hardcover books from Amazon and Netflix documentaries. Instead, I wish I had immersed myself in more creative endeavors. To this day, my favorite college class, that I got the most out of, is on the classic Chinese pottery. It kicked off my lifelong love of celadons.
Achievement shame. I don’t know why I spent my entire life feeling embarrassed about my achievements. Only 25 years after I graduated from Harvard, I’m able to tell people I went there without looking down at my feet and blushing. 31 years after I swam in the Olympics, I’m finally able to tell people about it without feeling like I want to run under a table. I have no idea why but I regret it.
Missing voice. Only with the recent #metoo movement did I realize that I was supposed to speak out against all the terrible sh*t my bosses and colleagues said to me (while paying me less than my male counterparts). Being an investment banker and corporate lawyer in the 90s and early 2000s, I just assumed what I saw and heard were what was to be expected. I wish I knew to speak up for myself and for others.
When I lived in Bologna, Italy, my Austrian roommate told me that relationships are like cultivating a garden. You have various types of trees, plants and flowers that you nurture, just like your relationships. (Ironically, my roommate became a nun in France later on.) This garden is how I feel about regrets. I embrace them and they’re an integral part of me. Every year, I have some new ones that crop up, while I forget that others exist in the shady corner of my garden.
I’m being a little extravagant for the birthday edition of my virtual dream box.
📷 Sebastião Salgado is a Brazilian social documentary photographer and photojournalist. Many of his photography projects focus on socio-economic conditions of human which I find so haunting and impactful. I’ll take any piece from his Gold Mine portfolio.
🧿 Evil Eye Hamsa I’m an equal opportunity employer when it comes to amulets and other keepsakes that are supposed to bring me good luck. A healthy dose of superstition keeps me grounded.
🏔️ Dwarikas Resort (Nepal) I feel at peace just looking through their website and imagining myself waking up to the view of the majestic Himalayan peaks all around me. If I ever go to Nepal, I fear that I might never come back and become the first Korean female sherpa.
🧺 Lisa Corti Tablecloths I discovered this Italian (by way of Ethiopia) fabric designer in Madrid, right next to my husband’s flat when we first met. I have a romantic image of setting up a delicious meal on top of one of these eclectic and colorful tablecloths and having a lazy summer afternoon lunch with copious amounts of red wine. Cheers.
Sorry, I have neglected to invite someone to be my WhiteTable guest this week. I blame it on too much champagne and oysters over the weekend. Will be back next week!
Love this and Happy Birthday!