The Road Not Taken

The Fork in the Road: Love or Logic?

Picture this: You're staring at two doors. One promises stability, predictability, and a "love story" straight out of a Hallmark movie. The other? It’s a chaotic, salsa-spinning, heart-racing kind of love, the kind you only see in over-the-top telenovelas where people cry in the rain even though they own umbrellas. Guess which door I picked? Hint: It wasn’t the one with rain and melodrama—though sometimes, I lie awake and wonder what might’ve happened if I’d danced through it instead.

Let me rewind. Years ago, I was faced with a decision I thought was just about dating. But really, it was about figuring out who I was and how I wanted my life to unfold. I had two options: Carlos, my long-term boyfriend whose idea of weekend fun was reorganizing my spice rack alphabetically, or Andrés, my childhood best friend who loved taking me on late-night drives blasting Marc Anthony ballads under the Miami moon.

Carlos had structure. Passion? Eh, not so much. But he's the dependable type, the guy your abuela asks about every time she spots you at a family party: "Where’s Carlito? Such a good boy." Andrés, on the other hand, was all heart—bold, chaotic, and so unbelievably in his feelings that even hearing Camila Cabello on the radio made him cry.

Spoiler alert: I picked Carlos. And while I wouldn’t say I regret the decision—I’ve built a life I'm proud of—I can’t ignore the tiny corner of my mind that still wonders: What would my life look like if I had taken the Andrés route?

Why We Crave the Roads We Don’t Take

Regret is as natural as cafecito after dinner (non-negotiable, by the way). Whether in love or life, it’s human to romanticize the other side. Neuroscientists call this "counterfactual thinking." I call it "those 15 minutes before bed when I spiral into what ifs I have no business entertaining."

Here’s the catch: We tend to idealize the unchosen path. We picture it with shiny filters and a retro soundtrack, forgetting that it might’ve been messy or downright awful.

What if Andrés and I had imploded spectacularly because we were too similar? Imagine two highly emotional people trying to decide on dinner: Disaster. What if choosing him meant ditching the stability I needed to pursue my creative dreams? Remember, I grew up in a family where scarcity wasn’t just a lesson but a lived reality. Stability? Hard-earned. Chaos? Optional.

That’s the thing about major life choices—they’re rarely as black-and-white as we imagine.

Lessons From the Path I Didn’t Walk

So what did choosing Carlos over Andrés teach me? Plenty, actually. If you’re stuck wondering about the "what ifs" in your own life, here are a few gems I’ve picked up from walking (and daydreaming about) different roads:

1. Stability Isn’t Sexy, But It Works.
Sometimes, love doesn’t HAVE to be fireworks; it can be the constant hum of an AC on a sticky Miami afternoon. It’s not the stuff of screenplays, but it’ll probably outlast the credits. Carlos taught me that love doesn’t need to be loud to be real.

2. Passion Isn’t Everything, But It’s a Lot.
Still! There's something about those Andrés-types that lingers—especially when your Tuesday feels like an endless loop of work emails and leftovers. Looking back, I’m grateful for the Andrés moments sprinkled throughout my life. They remind me to keep things alive, spontaneous, and dripping in salsa music.

3. You Don’t Have to Live ALL Your Roads—Just Pieces of Them.
Not every road has to be walked for its lessons to shape you. I’ve learned to keep Andrés’ spirit alive in small ways: belting out Celia Cruz’s “La Vida Es Un Carnaval” just for fun or hyping myself up with a solo dance session in my living room.

4. You Can Still Course-Correct.
The beautiful thing about life is that it’s more GPS than static map. Sure, you took that more responsible road, but guess what? You can add pit stops, detours, and a little adventure along the way. It’s never too late to call a friend, book that impromptu trip, or add just a little chaos to your otherwise structured life.

Living Without Regret

It’s funny—when I tell people this story, their immediate reaction is, “Would you make the same choice again?” And I’ll be honest: I don’t know. Who can say for sure? Both roads had their perks and pitfalls. I sometimes imagine Andrés dramatically storming into a family barbecue, making big, loud declarations of love while my tíos roll their eyes because their domino game is interrupted.

But rather than drown in second guesses, I’ve learned to embrace the beauty of the life I chose—and acknowledge how the road I didn’t take shaped me, too, in its own way.

That’s the thing about love and life: We’re meant to be shaped by both what we embrace and what we let go of. So here’s my advice to you: If you’re dwelling on the “what ifs” of a decision, don’t. Every choice you make, every door you walk through, becomes a chapter in your story. And isn’t it the twists, turns, and missed exits that keep things interesting?

A Final Word of Advice

For those of you stuck weighing decisions like your life is an episode of The Bachelor, remember this: Where you land is less important than how you live the life you build. Life is unpredictable, like my abuela’s ropa vieja recipe—sometimes too salty, sometimes just right, but always infused with a little love and seasoning.

If you’ve chosen structure, add in some zest. If you’ve gone for passion, ground yourself when things feel unsteady. And if you’re standing at one of life’s infamous crossroads right now? Take a breath before you leap. Whisper p’alante—forward, always—and trust that whichever road you choose, it’ll be worth it.

Because here’s the truth, mi gente: It’s not really about the roads you take or don’t take. It’s about making the journey yours.