The Donut I Didn’t Eat

Years ago, I went on a solo road trip across the country. Somewhere along the way, I stopped at a Tim Hortons and ordered a birthday cake-flavored donut.

It was perfect. Sweet, soft, and unforgettable. I still remember the taste even though that trip was ten years ago. That donut lives rent-free in my memory, sitting on a counter somewhere in donut heaven.

Fast forward to last week. I found myself in a city full of Tim Hortons. I kept mentioning to the people I was with how much I loved that donut. We joked about donut flavors, we talked about donut textures, and we basically turned donuts into a recurring theme of the trip. But we never actually stopped for one.

On the very last day, I did what any rational person chasing nostalgia would do: I stopped at a Tim Hortons.

They didn’t have a birthday cake donut.

I ordered something else, took one bite, and immediately knew. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t special. It was just a donut. So I put it back in the bag and threw it away.

And here’s the part that surprises me most: I felt proud.

Ten years ago, I would have eaten it anyway. Because it was there. Because donuts are good. Because I didn’t want to “waste” it. But this time, I knew that what I really wanted wasn’t sugar. I wanted that experience — the one tied to freedom, adventure, and a sprinkle-covered memory.

Sometimes, we chase the sweetness of the past and end up settling for something that doesn’t fill us the same way. Growth is realizing you don’t have to finish what isn’t feeding you anymore.

It’s okay to walk away. Even if it’s just from a donut.