What Men Carry: Why Regret Matters More Than We Admit

Written in collaboration with counsellor Mark Burnard

Most men don't talk about regret. They carry it quietly, privately, and sometimes for years, while the people closest to them wonder why something feels just slightly out of reach. At Hills Relationship Centre, we see this pattern often.

We sat down with our principal counsellor, Mark Burnard, to talk about why regret matters more than we admit.

"Men who have a fair bit of life behind them carry things they wish had gone differently," says Mark. "The silence around those regrets does real damage over time. It can quietly erode a man's sense of himself and the relationships that matter most to him."

Some of the most common regrets Mark hears from men in his practice include:

• Spending too much time at work, away from family

• Not being as present at home as was really needed

• Not noticing when a partner was slowly withdrawing from the relationship

• Being too hard on the kids during their growing years

• Developing habits in younger years that became difficult to break

• Answering "what's wrong?" with "nothing, I'm just tired" — again and again

These aren't small things. And they accumulate.

Regret is painful precisely because it reminds us that our choices didn't just affect us, they affected people we actually love. But that pain carries something useful inside it, if we're willing to look.

How regret becomes a turning point, or a trap

There is an important distinction between regret that moves you forward and regret that pulls you under, and it comes down to the difference between guilt and shame.

"When we experience guilt, it is painful," Mark explains. "But it pulls us up in our tracks. It stops us from carrying on a behaviour that damages others, and leads us to act in a more responsible way."

Guilt says: I did something that I'm not proud of. I can do better. It's uncomfortable, but it's instructive. It invites change.

Shame works differently. Shame says: I didn't just do something bad, I am bad. It pulls people inward and isolates them. It whispers that it's too late, that the damage is done, that trying to repair things is pointless, or that you don't deserve to.

"Shame has us feeling rejected by the rest of the group, family, or tribe," says Mark. "And that it's too late to do anything about it."

This is why the way we hold our regrets matters so much.  Regret held in isolation tends to curdle into shame. But regret that finds a place to land, whether in a conversation, in a counselling room, or in a moment of honest connection, can become something genuinely useful.

The difference between guilt and shame

Guilt: I did something harmful. I want to make it right.

Shame: I am the problem. There is nothing to be done.

Guilt can motivate change. Shame tends to prevent it.

What to actually do with regret

Step 1: Let it surface, rather than suppress it

Many men have spent years developing a fluency in not saying what's really going on. Deflecting difficult emotions with "I'm fine, leave me alone, I'm just tired" protects against vulnerability in the short term, but it also keeps the regret locked in place.

The first step is allowing the regret to be real. Not dramatised, not catastrophised, just acknowledged. You don't have to tell anyone yet. But you do have to be honest with yourself.

Step 2: Start with someone safe

"If you really want to know what a man is thinking and feeling, be ready. It might be much darker than you were ever expecting," Mark says candidly.

That's not a warning to avoid the conversation. It's an acknowledgment that what men carry privately is often heavier than those around them realise.

For some men, starting with a professional who is trained to hold difficult material without reacting is the safer first step.

A counsellor offers what Mark describes as unconditional positive regard: a space where what you say isn't met with criticism, withdrawal, or punishment for being honest.

Step 3: Prepare the people you love

If and when you're ready to have a harder conversation with a partner or adult child, Mark has a practical word of advice: prepare them.

"You might need to tell someone who loves you that when they say 'you can tell me anything', you find it hard, because what you're carrying is ugly and embarrassing," he says. "And then start slowly and cautiously."

This isn't weakness. It's strategy. Rushing into a disclosure without context can result in reactions that feel like punishment for trying, which can shut the door on further openness.

Step 4: Have the conversations you've been putting off

Mark has seen the power of what he calls the "coffee conversation", where a man invites an adult child to sit down and genuinely ask how they were as a father. Not defensively, not with excuses ready, but with real openness to hear the answer.

"I've encouraged men to ask their adult children: Was I too hard on you? Was I too absent?" he says. "Not every conversation like this travels easily. But most of the time, the warmth and appreciation that comes back is a real surprise."

The same applies with partners. A conversation that begins with "I've been reflecting on a few things, and I think I may have let you down when..." is not easy to start. But it opens something.

Step 5: Move from reflection into action

Regret is not a destination. It's a signal. It tells you that something matters enough to you that you wish it had gone differently.

"Whatever you do, don't put up with having regrets and just dwelling on them," Mark says. "It's not a sign of how proudly you've lived life your own way. It's a feeling that is telling you: it's time to do things differently."

The goal isn't to erase the past. It's to let what happened inform a more intentional present, one that is more empathetic, more connected, and more honest about what actually matters.

There is still time

At its worst, regret disconnects us from the people we love. At its best, it reconnects us, first to ourselves, then to others.

For men who carry it quietly, the invitation is this: you don't have to keep carrying it alone.

"Act before the regrets become too big and loud," Mark says. "Before it completely disconnects you from the people you love. Because there is still time."

Whether that means a conversation with a partner, a coffee with an adult child, or an honest hour with a counsellor, the move toward connection is the move away from shame.

Ready to talk?

At Hills Relationship Centre, Mark works with men who are navigating regret, identity, and the complexity of long-term relationships. His approach is grounded, honest, and built around practical change, not just insight.

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