Regret Is Self-Accusation

Learning from the past shouldn't require living there.

Regret feels like a creeping sense of self-accusation.

When we regret something, it’s usually accompanied by the feeling that we’ve made a mistake. We don’t usually regret random events. We regret our own choices. We don’t say things like, “I regret that I was in that awful car accident in 1988.” No, it’s more like “I regret that I married my first husband.”

Regrets are generally reserved for our own actions, not for the actions of others or for circumstances beyond our control.

I’m going to test out my hypothesis now with some of my biggest regrets: I regret that I took so long to get out of a job I hated. I regret that I broke that man’s heart. I regret that I attempted to foster a dog who was too large and unmanageable for me to handle.

Yep, all my fault. Or at least all my responsibility.

I can’t honestly say that I “regret” having had cancer. Do I wish I hadn’t had cancer? Oh, hell yeah! Cancer is the gift that keeps on giving. Even now, I’m dealing with the long-term effects of chemo on my body. But wishing that it hadn’t happened to me isn’t quite the same as regretting it.

“Regret in psychology is an emotional state characterized by a negative feeling associated with wishing one had made different choices in the past,” claims research database EBSCO. Dictionary.com defines regret as “to feel sorrow or remorse for (an act, fault, disappointment, etc.).” (Note that these are American-based definitions. There may be different connotative meanings in other cultures.)

Now that we have a better understanding of the source of regret, what do we do with this information? Well, I have some ideas:

1. Don’t beat yourself up. Or: Put responsibility in perspective.

First, consider what part of the event is actually on you. It’s likely that you didn’t have as much responsibility for it as you think. Americans, in particular, are more likely to blame themselves than they are, say, family members or colleagues for something negative that happens to them.

Let’s look at one of my personal experiences: not leaving a job I hated. When I look back on that period of my life, I remember how I had been unemployed for four and a half months before starting that job. It was the longest period that I had ever been unemployed up to that time. The unemployment rate in the county where I was living was 24%. I knew almost immediately that I wasn’t a good fit for the position, but it was an “any port in a storm” type of situation.

For the first two years I had that job, I was putting myself through college by taking night classes. There was little time to job hunt or even to think about getting a different position. Before leaving for work in the morning, I made myself both lunch and dinner. Dinner had to be something I could eat in the car while driving from the office to the university. Sleep was a hard commodity to come by, so I can cut myself some slack up until I graduated from the University of Texas at the Permian Basin.

Then my husband wanted to move so he could go back to school. The job allowed me to put in a transfer, since I was working for the state of Texas. Eventually, we were able to relocate to another city that had his first choice of universities. I was now the primary breadwinner. I was hundreds of miles from my professional network, long before LinkedIn or email made staying connected easy. It took another couple of years before I was able to build up a sufficient network that I could get out of that job.

As I look back on it, I realize that I absolutely could have worked harder to change jobs. But not that much harder. Not quitting sooner is still a regret that I have, but I’m not beating myself up over it.

2. Think about how you wish it had gone. Or: Learn the lesson.

Next, consider what you can do differently next time. I’ll use a different one of my personal experiences for this example. I regret that I broke someone’s heart. We dated for a total of six years, and I had been trying to break up with him for the last four. The problem was that every time I tried to cut him loose, he started to cry. I’d never had a boyfriend who cried in front of me over a breakup before, and I absolutely did not know what to do with this. I was so afraid of hurting him that I ended up hurting him much more badly by staying in the relationship for far too long.

What I should have done was rip the Band-Aid off quickly! Yes, it would have been painful. Yes, there would have been a lot of drama. But perhaps less pain and drama since I would have wasted less of his time. The take-away here for me is to put on my big-girl panties and do what needs to be done, even when it’s unpleasant. I’ve been married to a wonderful man for twenty years now, so it’s unlikely I will find myself in this identical position; but if I have to do something that might hurt another person, better to just get it done.

The Ten-Minute Rule

One additional note on learning from regrets: I call it the 10-minute rule. If you’re going to ruminate on how to do things differently should a similar situation arise, give yourself only ten minutes. Set a timer. If nothing has occurred to you in ten minutes, then sitting with it longer isn’t going to help. If, on the other hand, you’ve got some great ideas going at the 10-minute mark, then keep going and only stop when the flow of ideas stops. Keep in mind that you may need the perspective that only time can provide before learning any lessons from regret. If you follow the ten-minute rule and don’t come up with anything, try again in a month or so.

3. Stop wallowing. Or: Release the emotional residue.

Finally, stop wallowing in regret. As an example for this step, I’ll use the dog I fostered who was completely out of control. Apollo was a very sweet dog, but he was huge and untrained. Long story short, I ended up in the emergency room after he pulled me over while I was holding his leash. I had a concussion, two facial fractures, a cracked tooth, two fractured ribs, and assorted abrasions. And The Husband was out of the country when this happened.

I’ve been a dog lover for my entire life, but this incident caused some PTSD that I had to work through. For a long time, I got upset whenever my husband would mention the dog. I would start to feel anxious and angry whenever I noticed the scar on my face from that accident. I found this event unexpectedly tough to move through. Reflecting on what I had learned helped. (When considering fostering an animal, thoroughly vet the foster agency! This one didn’t have enough volunteers to take the dog back when I asked them to, about a week before the accident.)

Eventually, it occurred to me that I was just feeling sorry for myself. Apollo had been adopted by someone who saw him as he was being transported from my house. He had a great home with someone who was experienced with big dogs. All my fractures and assorted other injuries had healed. I had learned whatever lessons I could from the incident. Why was I still thinking about this?

Wishing wasn’t going to undo the past, so I stopped dwelling on it and decided to live in the present. I adopted my current dog, Gracie, who, at 13 pounds, is extremely unlikely to be able to pull me over. And now I can write about my experience with Apollo without all the uncomfortable feelings resurfacing.

Maybe that’s what forgiving ourselves really comes down to: taking an appropriate amount of responsibility, learning what there is to learn, and letting go of any lingering sorrow or anger.

The next time regret comes calling, try these three steps and let me know how it goes. If you’ve found another way to make peace with your regrets, I’d love to hear about that, as well.