There are probably as many kinds of regrets as there are people in the world, but most of them fall into four main categories: Foundation (not building a stable enough platform for our life); Boldness (not being brave enough to have said or done something); Moral (not making the right ethical decision); and Connection (not staying connected to important people in our lives). For his new book The Power of Regret, writer Daniel H. Pink analysed what keeps 16,000 people in 105 countries awake at night and found that connection regrets are the largest of the four categories. They arise from relationships that have come undone or that remain incomplete. The types of relationships that produce them vary: spouses, partners, parents, children, siblings, friends, colleagues. The nature of the rupture also varies. Some relationships fray. Others rip. A few were inadequately stitched from the beginning.
In every case, these regrets share a common plotline: a relationship that was once intact no longer is. Many times, in many roles, we yearn to close the circle, but doing so requires effort, brings emotional uncertainty, and risks rejection. So, we confront a choice: try to make the relationship whole, or let it remain unresolved?
We can think about regrets in terms of doors: a “closed door” regret — when the opportunity to restore our connection is gone or an “open door” regret — when the opportunity to reconnect remains. Both types of regrets nag at us, but for different reasons. Closed door regrets distress us because we can’t do anything about them. Open door regrets bother us because we can, though it requires effort. Regrets about social relationships are felt more deeply than other types of regrets because they threaten our sense of belonging. When our connections to others disintegrate, we suffer. And when it’s our fault, we suffer even more.
While the connection regrets that people reported numbered well into the thousands, the specific ways their relationships ended numbered only two — rifts and drifts. Relationship rifts — due to insults or betrayals — are more dramatic. But drifts are more common. Rifts usually begin with a catalysing incident, such as an insult, a disclosure, a betrayal, and leave the parties resentful and antagonistic, even though to outsiders the underlying grievance might sound easy to repair. Drifts follow a muddier narrative. They often lack a discernible beginning, middle or end. They happen almost imperceptibly. One day, the connection exists; another day, it’s gone. Rifts generate emotions like anger and jealousy, which are familiar and easier to identify and comprehend. Drifts involve emotions that are subtler and that can feel less legitimate, like awkwardness.
George Vaillant, a Harvard psychiatrist who headed the longest-running study of well-being for more than 30 years, summarized what he’d learned about human flourishing in these five words: “Happiness is love. Full stop.” Close, meaningful relationships, more than money or fame, are what keep us happy throughout our lives. Those ties protect us from life’s discontents, help to delay mental and physical decline, and are better predictors of long and happy lives than social class, IQ, or even genes. They give our lives significance and satisfaction.
But when those relationships come apart, whether by intent or inattention, what stands in the way of bringing them back together are feelings of awkwardness. We fear that we’ll botch our efforts to reconnect, that we’ll make our intended recipients even more uncomfortable. Yet these concerns are almost always misplaced. Of course, we’ll get rebuffed sometimes. But more often, we overestimate how awkward we’ll feel and underestimate how much others will welcome our overtures.
So, this simple problem has an even simpler solution. Shove aside the awkwardness. The lesson of closed doors is to do better next time. The lesson of open doors is to do something now. If a relationship you care about has come undone, place the call, make that visit, say what you feel. Push past the awkwardness and reach out.
