“Don’t worry, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

That text is one I send frequently, usually when I am about 20 minutes away from my destination. My friends, teachers and most of society despise my chronic tardiness, and I understand why. The truth is that I am rarely late out of carelessness. I am late because I have a hard time pulling myself away from the moments that make this life feel full.

Showing up late is admittedly uncomfortable. I do not enjoy rushing into class with an apology or texting a friend that I am not going to be on time. Yet when I think about why I am late, the answer is usually simple: the walk with my mom went longer than planned or the impromptu breakfast dance party pushed my morning five minutes back.

I can’t help that there are only 24 hours in a day, but I also know that I have one life to live. And in that beautiful life, I will always choose memory-making over clock-watching. Society treats tardiness as a sign of disrespect and impertinence, but the regret of missing out feels far worse. I know I would regret not being fully present with the people I love because I am too busy preserving a perfect schedule.

It is infinitely better to take advantage of life’s blessings than to waste them worrying whether others would be offended over a few minutes of missed time.

To be clear, I am not arguing for universal tardiness. There are moments when showing up on time (airports, interviews, weddings, birthday parties, etc.) is paramount. But when the choice
is between racing out the door or staying for one more song, one more laugh or one more memory with the people I love, then investing in the people who make life meaningful is worth being a few minutes late.