Remember when you actually had to go to the video store to rent a movie? It was an event. It was part of the night. These days in the midst of a blizzard or even a little bit of rain, you’re grateful that all you have to do is walk five feet to your coffee table and grab the television remote, and in four or five clicks you’ve got the opening credits rolling. Of course there’s something really nice about that, but it’s just not the same.

Sometime in the 1980s mom-and-pop video stores started popping up in every small town in America. You knew the guy behind the counter and he knew you. There were rows and rows of VHS cassettes displayed along the wall by genre. The movies sat there like caged puppies at the shelter just begging you to rent them. And if you were lucky, you got to stop by the store on the way home and pick up some popcorn and candy.

Recently I’ve been reminiscing about my rowdy, younger days and it got me thinking: How different am I now? Things around me have certainly changed. Back in the day, it was dial-up Internet and fax machines that were cutting edge; now it’s everything mobile and 3-D printers. If you plot any two points in history and give them 20 years of distance, there’s always going to be transformation. But do people change like technology?

Sure, I now have a few extra gray hairs, maybe I’ve put on a few pounds, and my recovery time has lengthened a bit. But have I really changed? I’m 45 years old, and I see the world with the same eyes, but with a different lens.

“Perspective is worth 80 IQ points,” computer scientist Alan Kay once said. And I couldn’t agree more. That’s probably the biggest difference between my 20s and 40s: perspective. I wish I knew half as much today as I thought I knew 20 years ago.

Below is a list of some of the innovations I’ve experienced over the past 20 years (and I don’t think I’m alone):

I hesitate to admit this, but I always aspired to be “the one who got away.” I wanted to be the best boyfriend you’d ever had, but with an exit strategy. Afraid of commitment, insecure or just plain pathetic; call me whatever you want. Underneath it all there was a deep need, or desire, to be adored. But I was afraid to be vulnerable. I couldn’t let you get too close.

And here I am, 45 and single. It’s not how I imagined it. Growing up I always envisioned myself being wife’d up with two kids, a dog and a house in the suburbs by the age of 25. When I turned 25, well… it seemed like 35 was the right age for a life like that. And when I turned 35, I got a dog. But I did get the greatest gift a man could ever receive shortly after my 36th birthday—my daughter Lola was born.

Am I damaged goods? I don’t think so. I’ve learned some valuable lessons from all of my past relationships. And maybe that makes me a better boyfriend. So as part of wiping the slate clean, I’d like to apologize for all of my past mistakes and tell you what I’ve learned.