To Admit Your Regrets Or Not To; That Is The Question

Our personal regrets are powerful in how they work to shape us into the people we want to be. But our accomplishments are even more adept at molding us.

I’ve got an old suitcase bulging at the seams with regret. I don’t lug its oppressive heft around with me on the regular, but I do hold onto it because it’s packed with important reminders of unsavory venues I’ve visited—places I never want to return to.

I’ve never been able to comprehend it when someone insists, “I have no regrets.” I can’t fathom how that can be true. I wonder whether it’s a sentiment possibly born of faulty hindsight. Or perhaps some false bravado. I do understand, though, that we’re better served and better able to serve others by focusing on all that we don’t regret more than all that we do.

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No Longer Sorry: A Long Overdue New Rally Cry For The Warrior In Each Of Us

I typically tell someone I’m sorry for something 3 to 4 times a day. Lately, though, I catch myself before I apologize. Because I’ve realized in truth I’m not sorry, not even at all, and I’m not even sorry I’m not sorry, either.

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Not Even Sorry, Not Sorry: A Long Overdue New Battle Cry For The Warrior In Us All

I don’t typically give advice, because I don’t really have any. But also and mostly because I don’t think people like to be told what to do. And in most contexts, I think ‘should’ is a dirty word. I don’t mind making a call to action when I see the need for one though, and this, this is that.

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Hard Times in Marriage Often Reveal the Most Shine in the Diamond

Do you know what this photo depicts? If you answered, “The reason your marriage might not make it, Jodie,” then; winner, winner, chicken dinner! Because you’d be correct.

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She gets some grace, and he gets some grace, and they get some grace too! Sorry though, there’s just no grace left over for you.

I’m struggling to fully heal from some hurt. What’s making it worse is that one particular person knows I’m flailing and her response has been to pull away from me. She’s leery, I guess, afraid I need too much from her. She’s fixated on the past and what I needed at the onset of my pain—because at this point, I’ve sworn all I really need from her is some grace.

And she won’t give it to me.

Continue reading “She gets some grace, and he gets some grace, and they get some grace too! Sorry though, there’s just no grace left over for you.”