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They'd probably be worried that I had gotten sucked into the interminable rat race, and wouldn't believe me when I said I had found a way to be comfortable with it. I used to have panic attacks about the idea of entering the normal workforce and ending up in a job situation like my father did. Love the man, but he prioritized "providing" for the family over being present, and burned himself out doing it. I can see the nuanced differences between that and my situation now, but I never would have back then.
They wouldn't believe that a relatively modest life could cost so damn much of what I take home. I make money that would make my 19yo head spin, and it's still not enough to be as comfortable as I would like.
They'd be furious that I let my strong friendships of the time slip for over a decade.
They'd be worried about my weight and how far my general health has tanked. Walking everywhere and doing manual labor jobs had made it easier than I realized to stay healthy back then.
They'd be confused that I'm a decade into a different romantic relationship. That might cause them to more carefully examine the one they were in at the time. I'm not sure if cutting it early would have been better for me though. I learned and grew by years in the span of a few months when that relationship was dying.
Oooh yeah. Break-ups can turn out to be wild growth phases sometimes, if you're paying attention and approaching it in a useful way.