The Ugly Word

I know a lot of hideous words. There's words that mean terrible things, words that bring nightmares to some, and words that shouldn't be said in front of your grandmother. Sure, there's plenty of them. I hate the way "moist" sounds pretty much any time it's said, unless we're talking about cake. (Total fat-kid moment, oops.) But one word I am absolutely terrified of is "regret."

I've always liked to think that I was going to live a life with no regrets. Sounds pretty great, right? I was the golden child, the one who never partied or drank until I was legal. I've never smoked anything, including hookah which is supposedly a pretty harmless thing to partake in. I've lived like this for so long that I started calling it "safe" rather than "boring."

I used to think that living with no regrets meant living a life I wouldn't regret. Don't get a tattoo at 18 because when you're 58, you'll regret it. Don't sleep with that guy because you might never speak to him again. Don't, don't, don't. In twenty one years, I've told myself not to do things more than I can even begin to remember.

The thing about living with no regrets is that it doesn't mean what I thought it meant. Living with no regrets is about not letting yourself regret the choices you did make. For example, I quit my job without having another one lined up. My dad was quick to remind me of all the reasons I should have done it while my mom was pointing to the fact that I no longer had an income. It's not so easy to keep the balance internally, but my brain's doing okay so far.

I'm going to have to stop worrying so much about the outcome of choices, avoiding the ones that seem scary. Instead, I need to make choices, take chances, and just accept the outcomes I get. I'll be just fine.