A group of shaggy haired peace mongerers once proclaimed “If you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love the one you’re with”. A recent discussion with my mother got me thinking about the meaning behind this iconic song. We can divide the two camps into Team Yay and Team Nay; those who accept the world and ride its waves and those who point out that it needs to hit the gym more often. On any given day I can be found treading water between the two; my intense emotional side says “Anything is possible!” while my logical self is aware that generally “anything” does not usually occur; a logical effect following a series of causes, however, does. But I digress.

To me, the motto of the aforementioned song is this: If your first choice is unavailable, embrace the runner-up. In other words, settle. Is boy wonder taken? Marry his ill dressed cousin. Scared of applying for the cool job of your dreams? Stay in finance where it’s safe. I wonder, has the logical pessimistic side has won? Growing up, I was an impulsive child, often saying embarrassingly blunt things without realizing my blunder (my close friends know the latter is often still true). I can always apologize for saying the obvious, but how do I apologize to my 13 year old self for not following my dreams? How do I tell her that fear and insecurity stomped all over that empire of impulsivity?

About ten years ago, I wrote my future self a letter to be opened in 2010, outlining my future; I was to be a budding fashion designer in NYC– this from the girl whose sewing skills led to the only pair of booty shorts in a class full of knee-length boxers. Misguided, yes, but hey, I dreamed in Technicolor. Less than two years to go, I find myself loving the one I’m with. I think it may be time to pen another letter: Dear Finance: You are safe, cushy and may indeed look shiny and important on my CV. You are probably someone else’s first love, but to me you are ‘The Man’ and thus, a perpetual runner-up. Consider this my resignation. Damn the Man, save the empire!