If you could do it all over again, what would you do differently? Would you choose another career? Hometown? Friends? Spouse (gulp)? What about a new outlook? Would you be braver? More adventurous? Or less impulsive? More intentional?

Well … what if you could do it again? Or at least make changes going forward that help you step into the best version of you?

Earlier this year, I interviewed Sumit Paul-Choudhury, who wrote a book on optimism called The Bright Side. Sumit’s first wife died from ovarian cancer, and on the night she passed, he said he became an optimist because he knew life had to get better. He wrote: “I certainly don’t recommend bereavement as a way of hitting the reset button, but it did give me the opportunity and motivation to rethink my life from scratch. It forced me to consider all the possible ways in which I might reconstruct it.”

Talking to Sumit made me feel seen. I’d never heard anyone else describe grief as a reset, and it mirrored my own experience. The truth is, I started WOW! Moments to test out new experiences, hobbies, and possible versions of myself. Sometimes it was just a way to avoid my grief. Other times, it was a trail leading me toward joy and meaning. A road to a new life.

And it worked! With every activity, I feel like I’m living my do-over life. My best life. And that feels complicated. And disloyal.

The truth is, over the past two and a half years, I’ve become a different person. I’ve taken an improv class. And a baton-twirling class. And a ukulele class. I hung out with Elizabeth Gilbert. And Dave Barry. I’ve sailed the Amalfi Coast. Swam in the Mediterranean Sea. I flew to Paris. On my own. Then went back and stayed for a month.

With every adventure, I often catch myself thinking, I wish David was here to see me now. But then I realize I wouldn’t be this version of me if he were still alive. I wouldn’t have had a catalyst to change. And that’s a very bittersweet truth. One that’s hard to say out loud.

To be clear, I would give anything to bring David back, but that’s not possible. Early on, I decided that I wasn’t going to cling to my old life or try to recreate it because it feels safe. This version of me wants something entirely new. A chance to explore the paths I didn’t take in my 20s and blaze some brand-new ones. To take myself off road and, most importantly, off autopilot.

And it’s scary. And messy. And joyful. And awkward, brave, and flat-out ridiculous. Honestly, it’s all those things on the same Tuesday. But that’s where the beauty lies.

Want to join me? You don’t have to change everything. Maybe start small. The Chinese proverb says, “The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second-best time is now.” If you’re craving a little reinvention, too—whether you’ve gone through a life-altering event or just feel stagnant and like shaking things up—let’s figure out what a do-over looks like together. Then let’s do it.

We only get one precious life. Why not make it your best life?