What if Nelson Mandela had never been released from Robben Island? What if the minerals in the Democratic Republic of Congo had never been discovered? What if the Titanic had actually made it to New York, and we never got that dramatic “Jack, come back” moment? Or mowhat if Rose scooted over and made space for Jack on the door??
We ask ourselves what if far too often. We romanticize alternate realities, trying to imagine a world where things turned out differently—better, fairer, less painful. But the truth is, no matter how much we analyze, dissect, and reimagine the past, we can never truly know how things would have unfolded. The endless possibilities exist only in our minds, and the more we indulge in them, the more we feed our own anxiety, regret, and inner turmoil.
The question of what if is a seductive one. It whispers promises of a different outcome, a better life, an alternate history where things went the way we wish they had. But speculation is a loop—an exhausting, never-ending cycle of uncertainty that breeds anxiety, regret, and a false sense of control over something that has already passed. We tell ourselves that if we just think hard enough, if we just replay the moment one more time, we might find the answer that will bring us peace. But peace doesn’t come from speculation—it comes from acceptance.
We can never be certain that our imagined alternatives would have been better. In fact, they could have actually been worse. What if the choice we regret making was actually the one that saved us? What if the path we mourn not taking would have led to even greater destruction? We will never know. And that is the WHOLE point.
The most dangerous thing about what if is that it gives us the illusion of control over something that was never in our hands to begin with. We cling to the idea that if only one detail had been different, everything else would have fallen into place. But history—both personal and global—doesn’t work like that. One change doesn’t guarantee a better outcome; it only guarantees a different one. And different doesn’t always mean better.
It’s human nature to question, to wonder. Maybe if we had said something different, made a different choice, taken another path, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did. But what if they had turned out worse? We never ask that question, well the chronic overthinker does - but the ordinary person not so much. We assume the alternate timeline is kinder, but life is unpredictable. We don’t get to know for certain whether another version of events would have led to a better outcome—or something far more catastrophic.
The past is unchangeable. What happened, happened. And no matter how painful or unfair it may be, it is the only reality we have. Instead of tormenting ourselves with what could have been, maybe the real challenge is finding peace in what is. Because despite the pain, despite the struggle, the fact that this reality exists means that, in some twisted way, it was the best possible outcome— only because THAT was the outcome.
The past is concrete. The present is fleeting. The future is unwritten. Fixating on what could have been only blinds us from what is. Instead of asking what if, perhaps the better question is what now? Because the only thing we can ever control is how we move forward
Not because it was perfect. Not because it was fair. But because, well… have you seen how life works? Things can always get worse. That’s the real kicker. Maybe we dodged an even bigger disaster, and we don’t even know it. Maybe the universe saw the alternate possibilities and thought, “Yeah, nah. Let’s go with this one.”
And honestly, considering some of the chaotic things we’ve seen happen in this world, maybe that’s a small comfort. Maybe we don’t always get the happily-ever-after we wished for, but at least we didn’t get the OH - HELL - NO version either.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.
