Not every setback is really a failure.
Interesting
At my 20-year high school reunion, everyone was showing photos of their kids and talking about their job titles and where they lived in the suburbs. And me? I said, uh... I’m a single nail technician who parties every weekend. I saw the shock on their faces, but hey, this is what makes me happy. I never wanted to grow up—and I didn’t.
The Clique
I have two girlfriends I love, but they’re like Carrie and Samantha from Sex and the City: no kids, obsessed with fashion, and after work, they do whatever they want. Because of my kids, I rarely see them, and I know they pick cheaper restaurants or cafes on purpose since I don’t have as much money as they do. I can feel a bit of pity sometimes when I show up tired and disheveled, but I love being a mom and my kids are my greatest joy.
It’s All About Perspective
Right before a milestone birthday, my boyfriend and I broke up, so instead of party prep, I was moving out. We’d been together six years, so the breakup hurt deeply—and to top it off, I had to move back in with my parents. It was late when we finished; everyone left tired except one childhood friend who stayed over because she lived far away. After a few glasses of wine, I cried on her shoulder, feeling like a total failure—almost 40 and with nothing to show for it. She said it wasn’t true, and I asked, how am I supposed to comfort myself turning 40 in my old childhood room?
She said:
“First, your parents are genuinely happy you moved back, which means they love you and you love them. I know plenty of people who don’t have a good relationship with their parents, so that’s a treasure to appreciate. Second, you gathered 12 friends in two days to help with your move—that’s huge at this stage of life when everyone has their own family and barely keeps in touch. It says a lot about who you are that so many jumped in to help. Third, you know this is just a temporary phase. ”
After that, I really saw my situation differently and felt grateful for what I have.
Former Model
I used to model and kept a strict diet until I was 38. Then I let go. Now I weigh 75 kg (165 lbs) at 175 cm (5’9”), not 55 kg (121 lbs). People pity me for gaining weight, but I’ve never been happier.
Renting
At 44, I don’t own a home or a car, and all my stuff fits into two suitcases. But I’ve traveled half the world and plan to keep going as long as I can.
The Divorced Woman
Other moms felt sorry for me when they heard I was divorcing, but I’ve never felt more free—and only regret not doing it sooner.
Off the Grid
On paper, I had it all: a well-paying middle management job at a multinational, a city apartment, a nice car, stylish clothes, weekend wine nights. But I didn’t feel I belonged. For two years, I watched YouTube videos about people who left the city to live off-grid—without utilities—like our ancestors. Simple but free. Finally, I took the plunge when I felt burnout knocking at my door. I quit, sold my apartment, and bought 10 hectares (25 acres) of wilderness in a stunning spot. I spent the first six months in a tent—my friends thought I’d lost it—then built a small cabin by myself, learning from YouTube. No designer furniture, fancy shoes, or city lifestyle here, but I have a vegetable garden, birds in the forest, breathtaking sunsets, and peace of mind.
Quality Swap
I gave up a promising law career and now sell my handmade figurines online. Law didn’t make me happy, but this does.
The Sailboat
I know my brother-in-law looks down on us because we’re "broke." Maybe we don’t have a sailboat, but our marriage isn’t toxic like theirs—and our child doesn’t visit just for money like theirs.
With Regret
There’s a saying that two kinds of people always tell the truth: drunk people and children. I’d add angry people too—those so upset by something or someone that they shout out everything weighing on their hearts. During one family argument, my sister called me a “pathetic cat lady who’ll never get married”. I replied in disbelief that she should be jealous of me because she’s the one stuck in a terrible marriage with a worthless husband and three unbearably unruly kids.
“I’m the one who feels sorry for you every day!” I said, then grabbed my coat and left, leaving the stunned family behind. On paper, she might be more "successful," but my sister knows well that I never wanted kids, don’t believe in marriage, and adore my cats. So I’m happy with my life. Two weeks later, she called to admit I was right: she hates her husband and really can’t handle the kids.
