My Life's 3 Most Painful Mistakes (Follow This Blueprint to Avoid Wasting 20+ Years of Your Life Like I Did)

There's no "I" in cancer, so here's a life-changing lesson my illness can teach you.

Time travel scares me.

A one-off pass to watch the moon landing in 1969 would be fun, but I’d be too worried about messing up the future to enjoy the moment.

My gut tells me I’d screw up and become my own dad or something. I don’t need that responsibility. What would I buy myself for Father’s Day?

It’s a paradoxical and commercial nightmare.

If you’re like me, you don’t spend much time thinking about the mistakes you *might* make in the past.

Chances are there are plenty of decisions you wish you could undo in your regular life.

Maybe it feels like you wasted years in the wrong relationship, missed an opportunity to land your dream job, or your life just feels like one misstep after another.

⇀ At best, mistakes can act as valuable reminders, like signposts on an unmarked road that make it easier to travel somewhere new.

⇀ At worst, mistakes can consume you, leaving you regretting everything you could or should have done and feeling like you’ve wasted your life.

Whatever camp you’re in, read on for three things I wish I could change.

✨ BONUS: Make it to the end for practical tips to go from “Damn, I wasted my life” to “I’m living my best life”.

I hope I like what I got myself for Father’s Day

I Wish… I Hadn’t Pushed The Girl With a Brain Tumour Head-First Into a Door

She had a brain tumour, and I was in remission from leukemia.

We were like a terminally ill Romeo and Juliet. 💘

I’d been in remission from cancer for a couple of years, and things were going well on the surface. On the inside, I’d struggled big time with remission.

To most people, “remission” is code for party time. It’s cause for celebration. But for anyone who fought a disease like cancer, remission can feel more like intermission. It’s a painful wait for something that might happen, and that uncertainty is crippling.

But she understood that because she had a brain tumour.

She’d gone through radiation, and the doctors were waiting for her tumour to shrink enough to operate safely. She knew the pain and fear, just like I did. You don't let the opportunity slip when you meet someone who “gets” you on that level.

So I told her to be strong because life’s most beautiful gift is hope asked her if she wanted to come back and have sex at my apartment.

She did (yay), so we tumbled out of the bar and into a 9-person taxi, which felt like luxury travel as it was just two of us. Like a reverse clown car, we had tons of space and no passengers.

Spot the clown

SIDENOTE: You might have played a game called Corners as a kid (if so, schedule a test for CTE).

The rules of Corners are simple…

• You need at least two players (and a maximum of four), and everyone must sit in the same row of seats.

• When the car turns, everyone leans in the direction of the turn to crush the person sitting at the end of the row. The harder you crush them, the better you are at Corners.

If this doesn’t sound like a very fun game… you’re right, it’s not. It’s probably not safe either.

That’s why kids play Corners, and we don’t let them vote, open small businesses (even though they’re small humans), or get face tattoos—because children don’t make sound decisions.

I don’t know why I played it as a child, and don’t ask why I chose to play it in the taxi home (I SAID DON’T ASK!).

My first lean was gentle. She giggled, holding my hand for balance, and returned a gentle shove as we swung around the next turn in the road. It was clear to me — seven Vodka Red Bulls deep - that she loved playing Corners.

So I leant into her again. Hard.

Call it luck, call it fate, call it a poor centre of gravity. By any name, she toppled sideways as the taxi rounded the bend.

With little support from her around-the-waist seatbelt, she fell forcefully into the large gap between the seat and the taxi door. Her head — home to a brain tumour — hit the metal with a loud, dull thud.

Brain tumours aren’t balloons (I think, I’m not a doctor), so there was no risk of her head exploding, but it’s not a move recommended by dating experts.

I quickly helped her back to her seat, but the damage was done. There was nothing left to do but curse the Gods (and the local town planners) for making roads with corners instead of letting us all travel in straight lines.

I demand more straight rights!

Sorry. That didn’t come out right. Forget I said it.

We did not have sex that night. I do not know if her brain surgery was successful. I have never played Corners since.

Looking back, I wish I could change that night because I had the opportunity to support someone through a challenging time. I knew how lonely the journey was for young adults navigating the medical system. Being a few years ahead of her in my recovery journey, I should have made that the priority.

I knew how profoundly isolated she might have felt; I should have helped.

I Wish… I Hadn’t Turned Down The Chance to Study in Amsterdam For 6 Months

I have been to Amsterdam once, and I highly recommend it.

You can tell people you’re going there to enjoy the culture (but you’re secretly enjoying the sex workers). Or, you can tell people you’re going there to enjoy the sex workers (but you’re secretly enjoying the culture).

I’d flirted with Amsterdam before…

During my nine months in the hospital, I was catfished by someone who claimed to be a former model and multi-millionaire.

She also said she would buy me a Mercedes if I came to America.

I know, I know—more red flags than a Chinese military parade. 🇨🇳🇨🇳🇨🇳🇨🇳🇨🇳

Admittedly, a high-performance German car is low on the list of things a cancer patient needs.

The 2024 Mercedes-AMG GT63 S E Performance can go from 0 - 100 km/h in 2.8 seconds, but I don’t think that’s fast enough to outrun cancer (again, I don’t know for sure, I am not a doctor).

Still, the offer was tempting.

So, when I kicked cancer’s butt so hard it ran off and had a good long think about itself, my uni reached out. They were willing to organise an exchange with any college in their partner program - opening up dozens of schools worldwide.

Sane of mind and motivated by lust (and high-performance German automotive engineering), I picked a college a few hours outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in the United States of America.

“Why?”

Great questions (I’m glad I made you ask).

I picked that school because it was as close to my online “girlfriend” as I could get on the exchange program. I planned to go to class on weekdays and get a four-hour train to see her on weekends. I also figured she might fly me out since she was a multi-millionaire, so that would be a time-saver.

My Australian university heard my application, considered this request and said… ABSOLUTELY F*CKING NOT (paraphrasing).

They explained that the health insurance premiums to place me in an American college so soon after my cancer experience was through the roof.

Instead, they suggested I go to Amsterdam, where I could have six months in an English-speaking college and have all the weed and red-light sex workers a man could want (they didn’t explicitly say that, but I was minoring in reading between the lines at the time).

“Alexander, what did you do?”

Another great question (you are on fire today 🔥)

I refused. 🤦

I said it was a college a few hours outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania or NOTHING.

And they chose nothing.

I regret forcing their hand, and when I found out I’d been catfished, I regretted it even more.

There were no millions of dollars. No Mercedes. No trips on a private jet.

Eventually, I made it to Amsterdam over a decade later to cough smoke weed, and visit the red-light district. As great as the trip was, I felt like I’d missed a life-changing experience — I still think it. I wish I could go back and change that.

SIDENOTE: For anyone wondering, I’ve learned my lesson. When an online stranger offers to buy me a car, I will NOT be so gullible. I’m not THAT stupid. Unless it’s like a Tesla or something cool, then I’m ready to be hurt again.

Amster-Damn, you stoopid for turning down a chance to live here.

I Wish… I Hadn’t Wasted So Much Of My Life

When I was sixteen, the hottest girl in the year invited me to a fancy dress party.

I was under no illusions. I didn’t think this meant she wanted to bang me on every piece of furniture in her house like I was her big toe. Still, I figured the invite meant something.

The problem was I knew my Mum wouldn’t let me go. She was strict, like an old-timey jail warden (if the warden also did the laundry and made meals for the prisoners).

With a well-established "NO" track record, I preempted her decision and accepted my fate before I asked. I wasn’t really the “party type”, so I figured I was better off at home anyway. Then, when Saturday arrived, I asked:

“Can I go to a fancy dress party tonight?”.

After days of knowing the answer, my Mum turned around and said…

“Yes”.

Having spent all week anticipating rejection, I didn’t know what to do. I’d mentally accepted my fate and conditioned myself as someone who wouldn’t fit in at the party.

Now, I had permission! And do you know what I did that night?

Nothing.

I was too afraid to go. I was so sure I wouldn’t be allowed that I psyched myself out. The moment had arrived, waited for me, and left... I’d missed it.

On Monday morning, my friends told me stories about the party, and every mention of it was like lime juice on a paper cut to the webbing between my soul.

I remember that feeling with 4K clarity. It was a learning moment—one that had the potential to reshape my life, so I told myself:

”Alexander, I know life is scary. But if your default mode is “No”, you’ll never have a story worth telling. You might get hurt, or scared, or even sad, but it’s time to start living life.”

Ooh baby, that was empowering as F*CK!

I was like a young Tony Robbins (if he lived at home and furiously masturbated in the short time his mother went outside to hang washing on the line).

This is a motivational pose, not a Nazi salute.

I felt like a new man (or a new young adult) with renewed enthusiasm for life. And you know what happened after that?

NOTHING!!!

I didn’t change a f*cking thing.

I was still stuck in “No” mode. Still convinced every exciting moment belonged to someone else. Still sure I’d be a fraud if I wanted to experience things for myself.

Four years later, just after my 20th birthday, I was diagnosed with leukemia. When my Doctor told me, I had the Life Flashing Before Your Eyes moment and waited for the highlights… But there wasn’t much to see.

I felt like my life was an empty film reel, devoid of experiences and stories, gathering dust in the attic of my mind. I was about to die without ever having lived.

I was a borderline gold-star virgin at that point. I spent 99% of my time at home. Twenty-year-olds don’t need to start companies or climb Everest or start companies at the top of Everest, but they—like everyone—should be doing something with their lives.

Something meaningful. Something purposeful. Something memorable.

I wish I’d embraced life earlier. Maybe the sleepless nights in hospital would have been easier if I had memories to cushion me. Maybe the fear of losing everything wouldn’t have been so painful if I hadn’t achieved nothing.

Let’s Talk About YOU… Because You Still Think About Missed Opportunities

I know you do.

Whether it’s a small thing like wishing you’d picked up the guitar earlier. Or something bigger like investing years in the wrong relationship, making a catastrophic business decision, or letting a friendship drift away.

There’s no “hack” to make these things sting less, but there is solace in knowing these feelings make you human. According to recent studies, 90% of people have major regrets. The most common categories were:

• Romance

• Family

• Education

• Career

This isn’t about wiping the slate clean and not allowing yourself to feel the pain of missed opportunities. Life is a game of choice. The path you take guarantees one you didn’t. Make choices that align with your values and goals, and learn from those that don’t turn out how you hoped. Rinse and repeat.

But an unshakeable desire to go back and “do it over” becomes corrosive. It strips the meaning and joy from existence, like sulphuric acid dissolving steel.

If you’re stuck in this frustrating purgatory—or if you simply want to be better at living in the now—try my two perspective tricks.

PERSPECTIVE TRICK #1: “Hey, Who Left This Trauma Lying Around?”

If you’ve been through some shit, use your old self to appreciate where you are.

As a leukemia survivor, I do this with the 20-year-old version of me who is lying in a hospital bed, desperate to get out. That kid would have been thrilled at everything I’ve done.

He wouldn’t spend time wallowing in “What Ifs” and gargling regret like mouthwash. He’d see all the cool shit he went on to do and be stoked he was living at all.

That’s why I don’t wish I could go back and change those three moments. They weren’t my finest, but I learned from them, giving them meaningful value.

To practice mindfulness and appreciate the now, I lean on my trauma (it’s not going anywhere, so I might as well use it) to create a powerful perspective. You can do the same.

Remember the version of you that would have given anything to be where you are now. That person wouldn’t think they’ve wasted their life — they’d be too busy marvelling at what you went on to achieve.

Your past self loves what your current self achieved. Don’t give too much thought to what you missed; stay in the now and keep working towards a life your previous self would be proud of.

PERSPECTIVE TRICK #2: “The Magic Birthday Candles”

If you struggle to accept missed opportunities, use your future self to appreciate where you are.

Let’s say you are turning forty (you can swap in your actual age).

You blow out the birthday candles and wish to be twenty again. You blow so hard the candles fly out of the cake and light a nearby curtain on fire… but your wish doesn’t come true; you’re still forty.

Now, imagine you are turning sixty.

You blow out the birthday candles and wish to be forty again. You blow so hard the candles fly out of the cake and light a nearby curtain on fire… but your wish came true; you’re now forty.

Project yourself into the future as someone wishing you could be your current age.

Boom. Wish granted. 🎂

Your future self would love a one-off pass to be your age — so use this to stay in the now and keep working towards a life your future self would kill to be living.

P.S. I Forgot To Tell You What Happened to The School Hottie…

By the grace of our Lord and Saviour, Cthulhu, I beat cancer.

I have a chance to go out and live life, and I try my best to make the most of it—in meaningful, purposeful, and memorable ways.

Because if I ever have to watch my life flash before my eyes again…I will have a story worth watching.

At the end of the day and the end of your life, your story is all you have.

I invite you to stay in the present as much as possible, continue writing your beautiful story, and make it one you’re proud of.

And if you’re wondering what happened to the school hottie… Well, the universe has a way of bringing meaning to madness.

She grew up to be a tattoo artist. And she’s the one who did this tattoo 👇

With Love,

New World Porter

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