I am a glow stick.

Jan 12

I wish I could confidently ink the ever popular phrase, “regret nothing” in French of course, somewhere across this fleshy canvas that blankets my soul. I’ve been thinking a lot about this concept sporadically over the past few weeks, maybe years. It would be such a lovely phrase to call my own, to say to myself or others without actually speaking a word.

But I have regrets. I am guilty, and for every occasional day I proclaim “I have no regrets!”, there are two more days that follow, suffocating beneath the opposite sentiment. Is it even realistic or fair to strive to be that person who can say they regret nothing? Somewhere along my 27 year lifeline this ideal was sewn into the thread of my subconscious and placed upon a pedestal. The concept that – sure, we all make mistakes, but one day when you uncover just the right amount of confidence, you’ll feel a glorifying sense of acceptance wash over you and realize that everything happened for a reason. That nothing was wrong, everything was worth it, and regret is just a ghost of Christmas past.

Regrets are like scars, which I also bear – some more proudly than others. They refine, define, and remind. Frederick Nietzsche said that in order to give birth to a shining star, there must be chaos in one’s soul. That concept makes a little more sense, I think. So tonight’s question is: is the chaos better served embraced, mastered, or allowed to run wild and free until death do us part?

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