Mohini Kundu

Last month I read a book about regret, and now I’m no longer sure I have any. At the very least, my perspective has changed from viewing regret as something to be avoided at all costs to an undeniably useful human trait. This was likely Daniel H. Pink’s intention when he authored the book The Power of Regret in 2022. 

Pink describes regret more like a super power than anything else. He claims that in order to experience regret, we have to time travel back to a moment we wish had gone differently; then, we have to dream up an alternate reality in order to make the comparison that that sequence of events would have been more beneficial. This makes wishing I’d worn shorts under my dress on that windy night sound like the work of Dr. Strange. 

Here is Pink’s definition of regret in his own words from an interview with Atlassian in 2022:

“Regret is an emotion. It’s an emotion that has a lot of cognition behind it, and it’s that kinda stomach-churning feeling when you realize that the decision you made, the choices that you took, the path you decided to pursue resulted in a suboptimal outcome.

Now, disappointment doesn’t involve agency in the way that regret does. That’s the big difference. With regret, you have agency. With disappointment, you don’t have agency.”

In his book, Pink shares regret stories from among 19,000 people from 150 countries who contributed to the World Regret Survey. (You can submit your own regret if you’re reading this and absolutely brimming with one you’d like to get off your chest.) It turns out human regrets are so universal that they can be grouped into just four main categories: foundation regrets, boldness regrets, moral regrets, and connection regrets. Pink concludes that each regret uncovers a core human need or value: stability, growth, goodness, and companionship respectively.

One of the stories that spoke to me most was that of a woman who enjoyed a life-affirming friendship in her youth. As the years passed after her friend married, without any real fallout, they simply lost touch with each other. This is a classic connection regret. The person who was unbelievably important to her slipped away, and years later, the only thing that kept them apart was a feeling of awkwardness that prevented her from picking up the phone.

Now I find this incredibly relatable, as I’m sure many do. The number of times I think fondly of people I’ve known is exponentially disproportionate to the number of times I have acted on those feelings. I know that particular awkwardness feels insurmountable. But from the outside looking in, in the face of losing something as precious as such a friendship, her reasoning feels childish and inexcusable. As I was reading her story I thought repeatedly, “Go on, regret—make her feel worse! How the hell hasn’t she picked up the phone to call her friend? How many years does she even have left to do so?!” I was gripped with a powerful need to change the ending. (I’d prefer not to spoil things, so I encourage you to read the book to find out if she ever reached out.)

I’m not sure if I would’ve had such a strong reaction—thoughtlessly siding with the brave and scary thing to do—if I myself didn’t intimately know the feeling of regret. Such a unique sinking feeling in our stomachs or the hot lick of shame in our throats is the reason we want to do better in the future. Because regret is visceral and painful, it forces us to change.

If I had to think back to my biggest regret, it would likely be how much I hesitated when it came to both dance and singing in my youth, two things I dearly love to this day. I look back at my younger self and wish I’d had more confidence or tenacity (the quintessential boldness regret). Had I practiced more, been less self-conscious, been more disciplined in pursuing my crafts, who knows where I could be now? Would I have a career in the arts? Who would I have grown into?

But I don’t know if I’d be so dedicated to pursuing those interests now if it wasn’t for that heavy feeling of regret, the burning question of what if. Perhaps I would let both hobbies fall by the wayside rather than looking into joining a new dance company and starting a band at age 32. I’ve found myself in a space I couldn’t have predicted where I understand myself better, where I’ve tried running away, and where I can now throw myself into these passions knowing just how much they mean to me.

Pink concludes that regret can guide us, so long as we don’t dwell too much on the negative and simply look to learn from our actions or inactions. If we do so, regret is what ensures we will do better next time. 

That’s why looking back, I can’t say I regret anything. What’s more, I trust that in the future when I hit lows and make mistakes, regrets will inspire me to learn and evolve. This helps me believe that no path can be a bad one, because even when there is pain there will be growth. I’m less scared of things not going my way, which I’ve found will be an essential mindset on this journey of experimenting with my life. And for that I’m grateful to Pink, and to regret. 

What would you say is your biggest regret? And is there something you can do today, even something minuscule, that might turn your regret into growth? (Pick up the damn phone!)