Last week, I found myself scrolling through old photos on my phone – you know, the ones buried under blurry food pics and accidental screenshots. There was this one shot from a trip to the coast years ago. I’m squinting into the sun, hair a salty mess, grinning like I’d just won the lottery. I remember that day: I’d ditched a “crucial” work email to chase a sunset. Regret? Not a chance. But here’s the thing – I don’t always feel that way about my choices. And I’m starting to think that’s okay.
We’re bombarded with this idea that we should live without regrets. “No regrets!” screams every motivational poster, every tattooed wrist, every self-help book on the shelf. It’s like we’re supposed to glide through life making flawless decisions, never looking back. But, well – life doesn’t work like that, does it? I mean, I once bought a neon green jacket because it was on sale. Wore it twice. It’s still haunting my closet. Regret? Oh, yeah. But it’s also a funny story now.
Regret isn’t the enemy we make it out to be. It’s messy, sure, but it’s also human. Like that time I said no to a spontaneous road trip with friends because I “had to” finish a project. The project? Forgotten. The road trip? My friends still talk about it. That pang of “what if” stings, but it’s also a reminder to say yes more often. Regret teaches us. It nudges us to grow, to recalibrate, to laugh at our own stubbornness.
I think about my grandmother a lot when it comes to this. She was the kind of woman who’d bake three pies for a party of five “just in case.” When I asked her once if she regretted anything, she paused, her hands dusted with flour, and said, “Oh, honey, I regret plenty. But those regrets? They’re like old friends now. They keep me company.” I didn’t get it then, but I do now. She wasn’t saying she dwelt on her mistakes – just that she’d made peace with them. They were part of her story, not the whole book.
Here’s where it gets tricky, though. We’re not just told to avoid regret – we’re told to chase joy at all costs. “Never regret anything that made you smile,” right? Sounds nice. But what about the stuff that made you smile at the time… and then left you with a mess? Like staying up all night binge-watching a show, only to drag through the next day’s meetings. Or that whirlwind romance that felt like a movie until it crashed and burned. Smiles aren’t always a free pass. Sometimes, they’re just the spark before the fire.
And yet – I don’t think the answer is to overthink every choice, either. I tried that once. Spent a whole weekend agonizing over whether to take a new job. Made pros-and-cons lists, polled friends, stared at the ceiling at 3 AM. By the time I decided, I was so drained I barely cared. Wait – did I just contradict myself? Maybe. But that’s the point: chasing a regret-free life can paralyze you. It’s like trying to cook a perfect meal every night. Sometimes, you just need to eat the slightly burned toast and move on.
So, I’ve stopped aiming for a life with zero regrets. Instead, I’m learning to sit with them, like my grandmother did. They’re not monsters under the bed – they’re more like quirky roommates. Some make me cringe (neon jacket, I’m looking at you). Others push me to be braver, kinder, or at least better at budgeting. They’re proof I’m trying, stumbling, living.
Maybe the real trick isn’t avoiding regret but choosing what’s worth regretting. I’d rather regret a bold move – like that sunset chase – than a safe one I didn’t really want. What about you? What’s one regret you’re secretly glad you have?
blogpay
Total Comments: 0