I know you're not supposed to have regrets, but I do. Maybe it's just a step along the road to acceptance and serenity, but it's where I am today. There are things I would have done differently. There are things I wish wouldn't have happened. I guess you could call that regret.
t don't want to carry these regrets with me always, I'll find a place to lay them to rest. But I don't want to cast them carelessly aside either. For better or worse, they've played an important role in my life, and I have some respect for them. They've been good teachers and good motivators to change. They're good reminders of where I was and where I don't ever want to find myself again. And because of my regrets, I know I won't make the same mistakes again. As much as I respect my regrets, I don't want any more. It's been a process to come to a place where I can sift through my regrets without feeling the sting of longing and disappointment.
In some ways, my regrets are some of the softest, truest parts of me. They're those parts of me that I work hardest to protect and shield from any more pain - they're a lot like my grief in that way. But if you can get past that part and strip away all the anger and bitterness that so often masks regrets, they are just my broken dreams. And even in their brokenness they are still precious to me, maybe even more so in their unrealized state.
But every day I'm taking steps towards laying them down, carefully and tenderly. I think they'll always be a part of me, but that's different than being crushed by the weight of them, so I'm okay with that. I don't know that I would necessarily want it to be different because knowing those regrets makes today a little bit richer. It helps me appreciate the life I have now; the one that I've been working so hard to rebuild.
t don't want to carry these regrets with me always, I'll find a place to lay them to rest. But I don't want to cast them carelessly aside either. For better or worse, they've played an important role in my life, and I have some respect for them. They've been good teachers and good motivators to change. They're good reminders of where I was and where I don't ever want to find myself again. And because of my regrets, I know I won't make the same mistakes again. As much as I respect my regrets, I don't want any more. It's been a process to come to a place where I can sift through my regrets without feeling the sting of longing and disappointment.
In some ways, my regrets are some of the softest, truest parts of me. They're those parts of me that I work hardest to protect and shield from any more pain - they're a lot like my grief in that way. But if you can get past that part and strip away all the anger and bitterness that so often masks regrets, they are just my broken dreams. And even in their brokenness they are still precious to me, maybe even more so in their unrealized state.
But every day I'm taking steps towards laying them down, carefully and tenderly. I think they'll always be a part of me, but that's different than being crushed by the weight of them, so I'm okay with that. I don't know that I would necessarily want it to be different because knowing those regrets makes today a little bit richer. It helps me appreciate the life I have now; the one that I've been working so hard to rebuild.
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