The Gift of Remorse

And how it can bring you closer to the version of yourself you were always meant to be.

I didn’t expect this title either.

But when my own coach asked me a question that caught me off guard, I found myself sitting with a wave of memories and a truth that struck hard and deep.

The question?

“What’s the gift of remorse for you, James?”

And I’ll be honest; it unravelled something in me.

Because remorse, for most of us, shows up carrying the weight of what we didn’t do. What we wish we’d done sooner. Who we could have been. Who we weren’t.

And for me, it surfaced like this:

• A childhood spent growing insecurities.
• An adolescence perfecting them into an art form.
• A young adulthood full of bravado that masked how deeply unworthy I felt inside.
• And a life, my life, spent playing smaller than I was born to be.

It’s only in recent years, at the tender age of 49 years and 73 months, as I like to say that I’ve come to accept and even (whisper it) love who I really am. To not just recognise what I have to offer but to stop hiding it. To stop apologising for it. And to finally be it.

But here’s where it gets interesting.

In that reflection, in all the memories and truths that could so easily have been soaked in shame or regret, something else appeared.

Clarity.

Not blame. Not self-pity. Just… clarity.

I saw that I’d spent decades believing there was something wrong with me, something missing, something I had to prove.

And then, suddenly, I saw clearly that there never was.

That the only thing truly holding me back was a story. A belief. One that I’d inherited, internalised and worn like a second skin.

And in that moment, the remorse wasn’t a burden; it was a breakthrough.

Because it showed me just how far I’d come.
And just how much further I still want to go.

Now, if you’re a woman reading this, here’s where this becomes especially important.

Because in the work I do with women all over the world, I see it daily. The “I’m not enough-ness.” The shrinking. The smiling where the smile doesn’t reach their eyes. The over-performing. The under-asking. The waiting.

You’ve been taught, subtly, thoroughly, to doubt your brilliance and soften your edges.
And when you look back, you might feel the same ache I did.
Not because you failed.
But because some part of you knew you were meant for more.

That’s remorse too. But not the kind that keeps you stuck.

The kind that sets you free.

Because once you’ve felt that, really felt it, you won’t go back. You can’t.

Not once you’ve seen the woman you could’ve been and realised, she’s still inside you, that she is in fact, still you.

Not once you understand that all those years of playing small don’t define you, they reveal what you’re now ready to leave behind.

And that’s what I help women do, whether it’s in Turning the Tables or my 1:1 coaching work. We go to the roots. We look with love. We name what needs naming. And then we move, not with force but with clarity and conviction, toward the life you were always meant to lead.

Because clarity is power.
Remorse, when held right, can be fuel.
And the woman you’re becoming is not behind. She’s right on time.

So if any of this resonates, if you recognise even a glimmer of yourself in this story, just know:

There’s nothing wrong with you. There never was.

And the clarity you’re seeking? It’s already inside you too.

It’s just waiting for you to stop regretting who you’ve been…
…and start becoming who you already are.