I'd never go back to my twenties again, not on your life.

I have absolutely no desire to be twenty again. When I was twenty, I looked in the mirror and didn't see myself. I only focused on everything about my body and personality that I wanted to change. And although I already had the determination that has saved my ass so many times, it wasn't as honed or as well-focused. I wasn't as brave as I am now either. And I experienced far more fears and insecurities. Fewer than at fifteen, but a whole lot more than now. I wasn't really sure what I could do with my life, and I still had to fully believe that what I sensed was possible (working as a screenwriter and trying to write a children's book someday) could actually be real.

When I was twenty, people didn't take me seriously. Or not as seriously as they do now. Me included. And my idea about relationships was very, very wrong. I didn't know half the story and I believed the narrative I'd been told. And I also didn't know that there could be other ways of relating, that there isn't just one model. The term non-monogamy It would have sounded like medieval Korean to me. And the same goes for the thousand ways to experience sexuality. My God. No way I was going back to my twenties. I had to figure things out on my own, sneaking around a Barcelona City Council family planning center. The concept of sexual and emotional well-being didn't exist. And even if I'd had more information and an education like the one my children had, it wouldn't matter. I don't want anyone to take away the sexuality I enjoy at fifty-six. It's incomparable to everything that experience brings. What a crazy idea to want to go back to being twenty.

Ugh, what a drag.

And the same goes for my thirties. I'm thrilled to have left behind childbirth, raising children, and that strobe-like madness that made me start writing books at the same time I had kids. I'm more at peace now, with greater control over my time. And I know how to write better. And I also know what books mean and what they don't. Besides, my thirties are that wonderful tenth decade that could be titled: "Welcome to the Decade of Imposter Syndrome." And my fifties, the title of "Welcome to the Decade of Taking It All On Your Shoulders." It's clear where I want to be. And I also think I look at motherhood differently.

I don't want to go back to my forties either. They weren't particularly good years. But I'm immensely grateful to the woman who, with all her shortcomings and suffering, dared to get a divorce. In fact, I'm immensely grateful to all the Annas I've been. Also to the girl who suffered abuse. To the one who felt alone. To the one who laughed her head off with her siblings and school friends. To the one who dreamed endlessly. And to the dull teenager who wanted to be anyone but her. I'm so, so grateful that they've all allowed me to become who I am. But I wouldn't go back for anything. Ugh, seriously. I'm a huge fan of the present. And I value what I've gained and the woman I am. And as I often say: always onward!