Regret is a quiet shadow that follows us through life. Sometimes it’s just a whisper, a fleeting thought that brushes against us before drifting away. Other times, it lingers—heavy, familiar, a weight we carry in the back of our minds and the center of our hearts. It shows up in two forms: in the things we never did and in the things we did that didn’t go the way we hoped they would.
There’s a certain ache that comes with the things we didn’t do. The words we held back. The chances we were too afraid to take. The paths we didn’t follow, even though something in us wanted to. We replay the moments where we stood still, silent, cautious. Maybe we didn’t think we were ready. Maybe we told ourselves there’d be more time. Maybe fear dressed itself up as logic, and we listened to it. And now, on the other side of those choices, we wonder. What would’ve happened if we had been braver? If we’d reached out? If we had said yes?
"Then there are the regrets that come from the things we did do. The decisions that looked right in the moment but turned out differently than we imagined. The relationships we tried to hold onto, the risks we took, the words we said without knowing their weight. Sometimes we look back and wish we had chosen another way. Sometimes we wince at how we acted, or how we hurt someone else, or even how we hurt ourselves by trying so hard for something that was never meant to be.
Both are hunting me right now and weigh heavy and there is no way to go back and fix things. It´s out of my control and that makes it even harder.
Both kinds of regret can feel equally hollow and painful. They both come with their own kind of grief—the grief of what didn’t happen, and the grief of what did. And maybe the hardest part is that we can’t go back. There’s no undo button, no way to rewrite the story from the beginning. We’re left with the memory of what was, and the imagining of what might have been.
But maybe regret, as painful as it is, is also part of what makes us human. It means we cared. It means we tried, or wanted to try. It means we’re paying attention to how our lives have unfolded, and to the people we’ve become along the way. Regret, when we don’t let it consume us, can be a teacher. It can show us where we want to do better. It can soften us, humble us, and remind us of the importance of choice. It can lead us to deeper self-awareness and greater compassion—both for ourselves and for others.
We can’t avoid regret entirely. No matter how carefully we try to live, we will miss opportunities. We will make mistakes. We will say or do the wrong thing. But maybe the goal isn’t to live without regret. Maybe it’s to learn how to live with it—to hold it gently, to listen to what it has to say, and then to let it guide us, not define us. Because life keeps moving, and so can we. There are still things we can do. Still words we can say. Still chances to be braver, to try again, to live more openly and honestly than we did before.
Regret reminds us we’re not finished yet. It reminds us that we’re still learning. And as long as we are, there's still time to choose differently.
xx baj.