Regret often appears because we care. We can see the difference between how we wanted to behave and what we actually had the capacity, awareness, courage, or support to do.
That gap can contain grief, guilt, shame, anger, and a fierce wish to go back. Punishing ourselves may seem like proof that our values are real. Yet endless punishment does not repair the past. It keeps our energy tied to a moment we cannot re-enter.
High Standards Guarantee Human Gaps
People with high standards will sometimes fail to meet them. This is not a reason to abandon our standards. It is a reason to develop a humane way of relating to the inevitable gap.
“I did the best I could” may be true and still feel emotionally false. Sometimes we know we had another option and did not take it. We do not have to force a comforting sentence our body rejects.
Try more precise truths:
- I wish I had done better.
- I did not understand the consequence clearly enough then.
- I was protecting something, even though the strategy caused harm.
- I did not have the emotional capacity I have now.
- I am willing to live this value more fully today.
Accountability becomes useful when it informs present behavior. Shame becomes a trap when suffering itself is treated as the repair.
Regret Can Distort New Opportunities
Unprocessed regret can make a present opportunity feel unusually charged. We may cling to it because we cannot bear to miss another chance, or avoid it because it awakens the old loss.
That means the work is not only about what happened. It is about freeing the present from having to compensate for the past.
Tapping: The Gap I Cannot Forgive
Side of the Hand: Even though what I did did not meet my own standards, I am willing to tell the truth without using cruelty as proof that I care.
Even though part of me believes I must keep suffering, I am open to accountability that helps me live differently now.
Even though I cannot change that moment, I can honor the grief, learn from the gap, and choose what this value means today.
Top of the Head: I should have known better.
Eyebrow: I wish I had done better.
Side of the Eye: I keep replaying the gap.
Under the Eye: Punishment feels like responsibility.
Under the Nose: But it does not change the past.
Chin: I can grieve what was missing.
Collarbone: I can name what I know now.
Under the Arm: I can let this value guide the present.
Top of the Head: I do not have to call it okay.
Eyebrow: I do not have to deny the consequence.
Side of the Eye: I can release the sentence of lifelong shame.
Under the Eye: I can make repair where repair is possible.
Under the Nose: I can practice differently where it is not.
Chin: My regret shows me what matters.
Collarbone: My life now can express that wisdom.
Under the Arm: I am allowed to become more than my worst moment.
Take a breath. What present action would express the value hidden inside this regret?
Let Grief and Acceptance Share the Room
Acceptance does not mean approval. It means ending the argument with the fact that this happened. We can feel grief for what we did not know, the protection we could not provide, the conversation we avoided, or the younger self who was overwhelmed.
We can also notice what has grown since then. Regret often hides evidence of development: the standards are clearer, our capacity is larger, and the next choice can be different.
When the energy moves, the memory may remain tender. Tender is not the same as trapped. We can carry the wisdom forward without dragging the courtroom with us.
Session Audio
This Guide was adapted from a Thriving Now session with Rick Wilkes and Cathy Vartuli, recorded January 12, 2015. The transcript was generated automatically and may contain errors.