A Necessary Ache in Fatherhood

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In my previous post, I was discussing the moments when men awaken to the kind of father they have been, an awakening that often takes place when their children are leaving home.

One of the primary emotions that often accompanies that kind of awakening is regret.

While many of us are taught that regret is a negative experience, the reality is that regret is one of the psychological engines that helps us to grow, to change, and to heal.

Sometimes I’ll hear a father (over) confidently inform me that, “I have no regrets when it comes to the kind of dad I’ve been.” To me, that is a very worrisome belief, because without regret, we regress—it is only through encountering regret that we learn to do things differently. And we all have to learn to do things differently, since none of us ever are—or ever can be—perfect.

Here are some of the ways in which experiencing regret can work to our advantage—both as parents and also as people.

1. Regret clarifies our moral compass, and helps us to realize when we have not been following it—it provides us with the possibility of a mid-course correction.
2. Regret improves our decision-making and reduces the likelihood that we will repeat the mistakes that led us to experience regret in the first place.
3. Regret increases our ability to take responsibility for the impact that our behavior has had on others. Doing so lays the groundwork for empathy, for offering authentic apologies, for making amends, and for breaking unhelpful or destructive behavioral patterns and developing new and more constructive ones.
4. Regret fosters humility, which is an essential component of any meaningful human relationship—it is a reminder that we are fallible, but that we also have the opportunity to repair our relational mistakes.
5. Regret helps us to dissolve and move through the defensiveness, denial, rationalization, and blaming of others that are the main obstacles to relational healing and reconciliation.

Of course, as with any other human emotion, we need to find a balance. We can experience a workable, healthy level of regret, which leads to reflection and a subsequent motivation and ability to change. Or we can become overwhelmed by regret, wallowing in it to the extent that change is actually impeded, rather than sparked.

Saying to ourselves, “I regret that I behaved that way, and as a result I need to do better, and vow to do better” is an example of healthy regret.

Saying to ourselves “I regret that I am the person that I am, that I have irreversibly failed as a parent, and that I must forever penalize myself for my failings,” is an example of paralyzing regret.

Regret is less valuable when it is excessive and takes the form of chronic self-condemnation, and more valuable when it is well-proportioned and takes the form of deliberate self-awareness, which can lead to self-improvement.

Regret is a painful experience, but it does not have to be a harsh or injurious one. In its most productive form, it is not a way for us to punish ourselves for our past, but a way for us to become warmer, kinder, and more compassionate people in the future.

I will be exploring the limitless value of regret, particularly when it comes to fathers, in some subsequent posts.