Have you wished a friend would have confided her regret, so you could have skirted the same shame? Or, have you wished for courage and humility to share your bad decision with one you suspected would parrot your pain? 

This post is dedicated to my admirable friends who set aside their pride, so their past could help my future. I’ll explain how their openness propelled me to peace. Then, I’ll share my poor judgment in hopes you’ll dodge my delusion. 

Turn up the music to set the tone. Hit it, Carrie: 

I see that look on your face

You ain’t hearing what I say

So I’ll say it again ‘cause I been where ya been 

And I know how it ends, you can’t get away

Don’t even look in his eyes

He’ll tell you nothing but lies

And you wanna believe that you won’t be deceived

If you listen to me and take my advice 

Brett James et al., Cowboy Casanova, on Play On (Arista Nashville 2009).

Carrie’s notes aren’t flat. If a friend is about to mime what she thinks will be a melody, sing it out! Bad decisions can be shared for the good. A capsuled footnote before we continue—this post is not about bad men; it’s about bad decisions. 

1. Sharing Bad Decisions for the Good 

When I’ve searched for direction, close friends’ stories prompted me to escape their mistake. Still suffering from painful consequences, their story gifted me with clarity and confidence to make a better decision. 

For instance, an unkind man had divorced my friend. Years later, I was dating someone who made me question my standards. My standards seemed pretty different. But, I prayed for wisdom. 

That friend and I hadn’t talked in several weeks. Later on in the day I prayed, she called and confessed she wished she would have maintained her standards when dating her ex-husband. I’m grateful for her vital vulnerability. The parallel was clear.  I swiftly stopped seeing him. 

About a year after I chose to exit that relationship, the same friend visited from out of town for dinner. As I walked through the restaurant entrance, guess who was walking toward me on his way out? Yes – the man who made me questions my standards!  It was a seasonable, uncanny reminder to appreciate her perspective and the precious time it saved me. 

Another friend’s story inspired me to make a better decision. When I was dating a good man, who I was in love with, my annoying and unwelcome gut cautioned something wasn’t right. I wanted to ignore my instinct, but I divulged my disquiet. My friend shared when dating her husband, she ignored her reservations.  She volunteered her mistake was continuing forward despite inner hesitation. 

Their marriage was rocky. I didn’t want to pause my relationship, but thanks to her candor, I did. I like to think if someone is right for you, the pause will be a suspenseful chapter of an even better story. 

In each instance, my friends’ experiential charity spared me heartache, although they gave from their own. 

Here’s the challenge: sharing my flawed thinking, so you’ll dodge my delusion.

2. Sharing My Bad Decisions for the Good 

When I’ve untangled my regrets, there was a pattern woven in: failure to fight for and own what I really wanted. Instead of wrestling with my uniqueness, I chose the common path.  It wasn’t until adulthood when I realized only I could fight for and own what I wanted in life—professionally, romantically, or otherwise.  

When selecting a career, I lapped the career counseling track. I tested. I switched majors. Although test results supported my career decision, I didn’t love my choice. The draw of a little prestige and security threw me. I was miserable for years. I watched every penny (quite literally—my sisters sweetly passed down their gently worn, adorable clothes, etc.) and paid my student loan. When I was financially free, I refashioned my career, more tailored to what fit me. Color graced my world once again. 

When it comes to dating, I’m slow as a baby sloth (and wish I was as cute). Before giving a man a VIP pass for a VIP experience, I want to—at least—know we’re important to one another, and he values me, too.  My most fulfilling dating experiences dazzled, when I prioritized getting to know him and his innate value over physical fun. 

Cue to a dim, starless scene of me, single and lonely, with fear whispering in my ear. A friend suggests moving faster physically to communicate potential interest. “Potential” is our key word. Loneliness and fear eclipsed my judgment and cast a shadow over what I really wanted from dating. I knew better. Interest and care, not potential interest and care, should guide physical pace.  

After I moved at what some may describe as a “normal” speed—who wants just “normal”, anyway?—I wasn’t interested. This guy gabbed more about himself than a 13-year-old snaps selfies. The “normal” speed wasn’t right for me. I could have deciphered my disinterest with a more fulfilling, sunnier experience.  

Fighting for what I really want and owning my decisions (and consequences) affects everything: my health, finances, the quality of my day job and relationships, and, ultimately, my happiness. The quicker I figured out it’s up to me to fight for what I really want and own my life, the more my decisions have aligned with my dreams. Some of my best decisions were born out of determination not to repeat this failure. I don’t know if my dreams will come true, but now, I’m giving them an honest chance.  

Owning decisions makes you a quick learner instead of a helpless victim.  Learning from failure empowers candor with confidants. Candor may help a confidant with a daunting decision.  

Sharing bad decisions for the good connects the illuminating halo of perspective, until it arrives full circle. You’re invited to join its light. 

I included just a few examples of my friends’ stories (with permission, of course!), but many more have changed my life. Make no mistake; this post is dedicated to each one. Thank you.