I still think about who I was while making that choice

Dear Delyara, Sometimes the regret is less about the event and more about the version of me who made the decision. The scared version. The lonely version. The version that thought less was all she could ask for. The version that called silence maturity and confusion love and endurance character. I know I need compassion for that self. Some days I can offer it. Other days I feel mostly sorrow. Maybe that’s what regret really is sometimes — grief for your own smaller self.