Regret scares me more than failure.

Failure has movement in it.

Regret just sits there.

You turn around years later and see a version of your life that could have happened, and now it is untouchable. That is what makes it heavy. Not just the mistake itself. The fact that time closed around it and you cannot re-enter.

When I think about my university years, there are things I could regret. I never would have wanted that injury for American football. Never. Some things are not life lessons. Some things are just damage. And even outside of that, I can see other missing pieces. I could have been more social. I could have met more people. Built a better circle. Spent more time with people, lived more with them, been happier with them. There were probably whole parts of life available to me that I did not fully step into.

Then I think further back. What would I change about high school? Honestly, maybe I would have rebelled more. Maybe I would have cared less. I never really felt like I belonged there. Aydın was not for me. Then I came to Ankara. Maybe Istanbul would have been better. I do not know. Back then there was no real guidance. No real intelligence behind my choices. No real agency. Still, even with that, I probably could have chosen better for myself.

That is the part I care about now

I do not want to keep repeating that pattern. I do not want to reach another stage of life and realize I lived it too safely, too politely, too passively, too shaped by hesitation.

Because if I am honest, the biggest regret waiting for me in the future is probably not failure. It is low risk. Taking the smaller path. Being too afraid to upset people. Being too afraid that someone will be disappointed. Being too afraid of the roads I actually want. That is the real danger. Not ruining my life, but shrinking it.

That is why some things feel so important to me right now. Thailand, for example. Fighting. Going there. Living there for a while. Trying it. Seeing it. Learning what that life actually feels like instead of just admiring it from far away. I know I need to ask more questions. I know I need to take more risks. I know that already. The only question is whether I will act like I know it.

Because regret usually does not come from being reckless. It comes from betraying something clear inside you. You knew. You wanted it. You felt the pull. And still you stayed where it was safer. That is the kind of memory that follows you.

The better question

So maybe the better question is not "What do I want right now?" Maybe it is this: How do I build my life in a way that lets me turn 30 and say I did not betray 25? That feels more serious.

If I wanted to live in a way that leaves less room for regret, I think the answer would be simple, even if not easy. I would meet more people. Real people. Go out with them. Listen to their stories. Build actual connection instead of staying in my own lane too much. I would bring better energy into rooms. Not fake positivity. More like presence. Aliveness. Openness. A stronger spirit. I would take real action on my personal business. Produce. Build. Publish. Sell. Learn through movement. Choose a field that fits my strengths and still develop the rest along the way. And I would understand myself better as I get older, not worse. I would become more honest about who I am, what I want, what kind of life is actually mine, and what kind of strength I need to build to carry it.

Maybe that is all regret is in the end. A signal. A brutal way of showing you where you were not brave enough to become yourself. And if that is true, then the point is not to sit around fearing regret. The point is to use it early. To look ahead and ask what future version of you would resent. To ask where you are still choosing comfort over truth. To ask where fear is still pretending to be wisdom.

Because I do not want a future where I look back and see a life shaped by caution. I do not want to realize I stayed too small because I was trying to avoid pain, avoid conflict, avoid risk, avoid being misunderstood. That kind of life may look clean from the outside. But inside it would feel like waste. And that, more than failure, is what scares me.