So Risk and Regret Walk Into A Bar....

When most people think about regret, it’s usually not about the stupid things they’ve said, or the questionable things they’ve done (teenage belly button piercing, I’m looking at you). The most difficult regret to make peace with is the regret for the things we did not try, say, or do-the risk we did not take. I’m sure everyone when reading this has one thing that immediately pops into their head. Whether, it’s standing up for yourself to someone, applying for a job, or making a difficult choice even though you knew it was the right one to make.  It’s a huge fear of mine, the non taken risks. I don’t ever want to look back, and think “what if?”  This is a topic I think about often, not because I have all this non-risking regret, but because there are so many things I want to do, and so many things I want to experience. So far I’ve been pretty good about doing them. I wouldn’t say I’m risk-averse, more like risk-prone. I don’t know if I was born this way, or my enormous fear of asking the ever elusive “what if?” has anything to do with it. Nonetheless, my magnetism for risk taking is what it is.  I do have to say that sometimes I question if I’ve pushed myself too much and gone too far. Like one day all the risks that I’ve taken to prevent myself from having regret will back fire and end up turning into regret within itself. I’ll think, “Why didn’t you just stay home and find a proper job? Why didn’t you stop moving around so much and find a nice boy to marry?” Marriage, a stable job, and a permanent address are all risks true, however not necessarily the right ones for me at this point in my life. It definitely would make more sense to my family and friends around me who don’t understand my choice of lifestyle. (No, grandma I’m not trying to put you in an early grave, and yes mom I know you’re not getting any older and would like to have grandchildren one day)  Yes, I might fail and staying home may have been the righter course.  And yes, maybe the certainty of a stable job would be a more appropriate choice for success. But then I remember- nothing is certain and failing is a necessity for growth. Things can fall apart for anyone, anywhere, at any time. And so back I go to my thinking that it’s just better to be my “risk-prone” self, making my “risk-prone” choices. That’s why I’ve decided to move to Spain in the beginning of August. Because I choose risks, and I choose uncertainty, and I choose failure. All while hoping for the occasional triumph and going after the best version of me that’s out there.