Now and then — usually when I’m doing something very mom, like packing lunch or picking up socks that no one else sees — I drift into a completely different life.
What if I’d stayed in Mexico?
What if I’d never moved to Canada, never slowed down, never changed my mind about motherhood?
What if I’d stayed that super-driven, independent, wildly ambitious version of myself?
It’s not regret.
It’s just… curiosity.
It's like a creative little time portal I slip into when my writer's brain gets bored.
A woman wearing black pumps, standing confidently — evoking ambition, independence, and the polished edge of an alternate life path.
👩💼 Corporate Fabi: The One Who Never Slowed Down
In the most vivid alternate timeline, I’m a sharply dressed, hyper-efficient executive assistant to a badass CEO. You know the type: always in heels, inbox at zero, crushing deadlines like bugs.
She works even when she sleeps. She’s been married and divorced five times, and no one questions it because she's that kind of girl.
Her apartment is sleek. Her calendar is color-coded. Her standards are high. And her feelings? Let’s say... uhm... she left those in a Google Doc somewhere in 2016.
She doesn’t have kids.
She doesn’t believe in slowing down.
She doesn’t belong in Facebook mom groups.
And if she could see me now — tired, slightly softer, surrounded by sticky notes and love — she’d probably be… disappointed.
But Plot Twist: I Miss Her Sometimes
She had freedom.
She could sleep for 24 hours after a long week.
She didn’t need to coordinate or accommodate anyone else’s needs.
Her time? Entirely hers. Her plans? Non-negotiable.
She was unapologetically selfish — and sometimes I envy that.
But she also missed out.
She missed messy mornings full of laughter.
She never felt the weird joy of someone calling for you simply because you’re their person.
She never discovered how peaceful slow walks after dinner can be or how grounding motherhood feels — even when it’s loud, imperfect, and covered in crumbs.
The Turning Point
For me, it was falling in love and moving to Montreal.
I couldn’t work right away, which forced me — for the first time — to be still.
And in that stillness, I realized how deeply I’d wrapped my identity around productivity. I had been sprinting through life, checking boxes, and completely missing the view.
Without the long hours and never-ending deadlines, I started to remember myself.
And a different life slowly began to take shape.
Can I Be Honest Though?
I still miss my freedom.
Not just the solo travel or lazy Sundays — but the mental freedom. The lack of constant responsibility.
Sometimes, I fantasize about what it would be like to live for no one but myself again. To not be needed. To not be scheduled.
Just for a moment.
And then, I look at this life — the real one — and I see the beauty of what I built. Not perfect. Not quiet. Not sleek. But deeply, profoundly mine.
🌀 Bonus: The Fabi Multiverse Roll Call
Because no self-reflective moment is complete without tipping my hat to the other Fabís still living rent-free in my head:
🖇️ Corporate Fabi – You know her. She works like a machine, thrives on chaos, and has a blazer for every situation—emotionally unavailable and overachieving AF.
🐆 Cougar Fabi – Flawless skin, high heels, emotionally detached but deeply fun. Possibly dating someone who just learned how to file taxes.
😒 Grumpy Auntie Fabi – Lives alone, yells at the neighbour’s dog, drinks overpriced tea, and writes Yelp reviews with feeling.
🥀 Burned-Out Writer Fabi – Never leaves her apartment but produces hauntingly beautiful poetry. Cries over indie movies.
🧿 Hippie Oaxaca Fabi – Sells handmade bracelets, reads tarot in a plaza, smells like sage and revolution. Peaceful, probably barefoot.
🍽️ Waitress in London Fabi – Lives in a shoebox apartment, broke but glowing. She writes in cafés and survives on scones and serotonin.
🖋️ Runaway Ghostwriter Fabi – Dropped off the grid, lives in Mexico City, writes bestsellers for influencers and only communicates via voice notes.
💔 "What If" Romance Fabi – Married the one who got away. They are divorced now, but they still send each other ironic memes and remember birthdays.
They’re all real in their weird little ways.
But this version — the one typing this — is the one who showed up. Who stayed? Who chose this?
Final Thought
You can be wildly content and still look back.
You can grieve a life you never lived and still be thankful for the one you did.
You can laugh at your past selves, miss them a little, and keep moving forward — wiser, messier, more whole.
So here’s to the Fabís we imagine and the one who showed up.
She’s the main character now.
- Love, Fabi
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