If I Had a Hot Tub Time Machine… Oh Boy

After watching Hot Tub Time Machine, I found myself sitting there thinking, “Well… that escalated quickly,” and then immediately followed it with, “Okay but wait… if I had one of those, what would I actually do?” Because let’s be honest, the idea is ridiculous… but also slightly tempting. I mean, a bubbling, questionable-looking hot tub that sends you back in time? I’m not saying I’d jump in immediately, but I’m also not saying I’d not test it. Probably with snacks. Definitely with a towel, because I don’t trust time travel without a towel.

Now, the real question isn’t whether I’d go. It’s what I would actually change if I could.

At first, my brain goes straight to the obvious things. You know, the moments that still make you cringe years later for absolutely no reason except your brain enjoys replaying them at 2:00 a.m. I’d like to go back and gently tap my younger self on the shoulder and say, “Hey… maybe don’t say that out loud,” or “That outfit felt like a good idea, but I promise you, it wasn’t.” There are a handful of social disasters I would gladly erase with the enthusiasm of someone deleting an email they immediately regret sending.

And then there are the decisions. Oh, the decisions. The ones where hindsight now stands there like, “Really? That was your choice?” I imagine climbing out of my magical hot tub, finding that version of myself, and just… raising an eyebrow. Not even saying anything. Just letting the look do all the work. Because honestly, sometimes that’s all it would take.

But then something funny happens when I think about it a little longer.

Because yes, there are things I’d love to tweak. Maybe I’d worry less about what people thought. Maybe I’d speak up a little sooner. Maybe I’d hold onto certain moments a little tighter, knowing how quickly they’d pass. Maybe I’d even give myself a pep talk or two, something like, “You’re going to be okay… even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

But here’s the problem with time travel… if you change too much, you don’t end up where you are now.

And as tempting as it is to rewrite certain chapters, I’d have to pause for a second. Because every awkward moment, every wrong turn, every “what was I thinking?” decision somehow led me here. And as messy as that journey has been at times, I kind of like where I landed. Not because everything is perfect, but because it’s real. It’s mine.

Also, let’s be honest, if I went back and tried to fix everything, I would probably mess something else up in the process. I’d be over there trying to prevent one mistake while accidentally creating three new ones. I know myself. I would absolutely find a way to complicate the timeline.

And then there’s the thought of meeting my younger self. I don’t think I’d change her as much as I’d just sit next to her for a minute. Maybe tell her she doesn’t have to have it all figured out. Maybe remind her that the hard seasons don’t last forever, even when they feel like they will. Maybe just let her know that she’s stronger than she thinks she is.

And then, because I can’t help myself, I’d probably also tell her to drink more water, wear sunscreen, and stop overthinking everything before it even happens. You know, the important life advice.

So if that hot tub showed up tomorrow, would I use it? Probably. But not to rewrite everything. Maybe just to peek. Maybe to laugh a little. Maybe to sit with a few moments a little longer.

And then I’d climb back out, dry off, and come right back to now.

Because as tempting as it is to change the past, I think the real magic is realizing you don’t have to.