At 43 years-old, I can look back at my life with a deep sense of pride — and, if I’m honest, a touch of longing. I’ve spent my entire adult life building my career, climbing ladders, taking risks, and proving to myself that I could be independent and successful. And in many ways, I’ve achieved exactly what I set out to do.

I own my home. I’ve built financial security that allows me to stand firmly on my own two feet. My parents and grandparents are healthy and happy. I have a circle of incredible friends who inspire me, challenge me, and support me through every chapter. And I have three gorgeous nephews who light up my world in ways I never could have imagined. These are blessings I don’t take for granted.

One of the accomplishments I’m most proud of is that through my own hard work, I was able to leave a marriage that wasn’t right for me. Because I was financially independent, I had choices. I could walk away and rebuild my life on my own terms. That freedom is something I cherish deeply.

But with all that said, there are things I wish I’d done differently. When you’re young and ambitious, it’s easy to believe you can have it all — career, independence, love, family — without having to make tough decisions. You put your head down, keep pushing forward, and tell yourself there will be time later. For me, later came faster than I expected.

If I could offer advice to young women just starting out, it would be this: leave space for the things that matter most. A healthy, loving relationship with a partner who brings out the best in you. The chance to conceive and raise a child. The opportunity to create a life that isn’t only about work, but about shared dreams, purpose, and faith.

Two moments have profoundly shaped this perspective. The first came after October 7, when I traveled to Israel as part of one of the first American volunteer groups. While I spent my days preparing meals for soldiers and harvesting crops, it was the people I met who left the deepest mark. Many had lost loved ones only weeks earlier, yet they carried on with remarkable strength, sustained by family and community. Even as they sent their children off to war, they remained united — grounded in faith and bound by an unbreakable sense of solidarity.

The second moment was the assassination of Charlie Kirk — and the extraordinary strength Erika Kirk displayed in its aftermath. In Charlie and Erika, I saw everything I believed was possible for myself one day. They came together as two accomplished individuals and built a life rooted in love, family, and faith. Watching and rewatching videos of them — as partners, as parents — stirred something deep within me, awakening a longing I hadn’t fully realized was there.

It brought me back to my own childhood, the eldest of three, watching my parents put aside their own wants to nurture our needs. Through their actions, they instilled in us the core values of our Jewish faith: prioritizing family, pursuing education, and giving back to those less fortunate. My parents made sure our faith wasn’t just taught but lived — from leading a Jewish Federation mission to Israel to sending my sister and me to study in the Holy Land. Those experiences didn’t just deepen my connection to Judaism and the state of Israel; they shaped how I understood love, commitment, and what it means to build a life of purpose.

As I sat with those memories, I couldn’t help but ask myself, with a heaviness I can’t quite put into words: how did I fall so far from that path?

Don’t limit your options because you’re so determined to prove your strength or independence. Being headstrong can serve you well in the boardroom, but it can also blind you to what truly fulfills the heart. There is immense purpose in building a family and in nurturing a partnership where both people grow together.

I wish I had discovered this earlier in life — the profound beauty that comes with faith, love, and building a family. My career has given me so much, but it has also required sacrifices I didn’t fully understand at the time. If I could go back, I would tell my younger self to be just as intentional about her personal life as she was about her professional one.

As I approach my 44th birthday, I feel the weight of limited options. Yet, thanks to breakthroughs in technology, I have hope — hope that I can bring a Jewish child into this world. While I have yet to meet a Jewish partner to share this journey, I cannot waste another moment. The chance to experience the profound joy of creating life and carrying forward my heritage is too precious to delay.

So to those just beginning their journey, take my advice: find yourself while also making room for the relationships and experiences that will bring you joy beyond titles, promotions, or accolades. A meaningful life isn’t built only in offices or boardrooms — it’s built in the quiet moments of connection, faith, and love. And those are the things I wish I’d done.

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Jessica Piha is the Communications Director at USAFacts, a nonpartisan not-for-profit civic organization committed to making government data easy for Americans to understand. She resides in Kirkland, Washington with her dog Figgy.

The views expressed in this piece are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The Daily Wire.

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