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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UBRXozfyp7ImA9WhVTEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021</id><updated>2012-02-26T02:34:14.487-06:00</updated><title>Secret Regrets™</title><subtitle type="html">What's the BIGGEST regret of your life? What ONE thing would you change if you had a second chance? Anonymously post your answer by clicking on the "Post Your Secret Regret Here" tab below. Before you post anything, you must also read and agree to the TERMS AND CONDITIONS tab below.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/SecretRegrets" /><feedburner:info uri="secretregrets" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>SecretRegrets</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQGQX4_eCp7ImA9WhVTEk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-1490352395712722953</id><published>2012-02-26T00:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-26T00:22:00.040-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-26T00:22:00.040-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 26, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret giving myself permission to feel attraction for a man who isn't  my husband.  I thought the attraction was harmless - that I'd enjoy the  feeling, maybe channel the energy it gave me into other areas of my  life - but attraction is addictive, and it's toxic.  I can't stop  thinking about him.  Now I feel lonely whenever I'm with my husband.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-1490352395712722953?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OEBDOrHxJn_CHTPGTAg9QPxcmNo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OEBDOrHxJn_CHTPGTAg9QPxcmNo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/6d5KkuHXVXM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/1490352395712722953/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=1490352395712722953&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/1490352395712722953?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/1490352395712722953?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/6d5KkuHXVXM/secret-regret-of-day-february-26-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 26, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-26-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkICQXw7eip7ImA9WhVTEUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-6079933617054103099</id><published>2012-02-25T00:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-25T00:16:00.202-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-25T00:16:00.202-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 25, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret not leaving my 30 year marriage before I ended up having an  affair. I hate even saying the word. Im happier now then when i was  married but I will never get over what I did. I know God forgave me but  it was very hard to forgive myself. No matter what reasons I had or no  matter how bad my marriage was, I should have left first.. before  meeting someone. The only thing I can do now is learn from it, help  others not make the same mistake, and become a better person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-6079933617054103099?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jz5F5ZbsfaiDIM75JatrGmfcWxs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jz5F5ZbsfaiDIM75JatrGmfcWxs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jz5F5ZbsfaiDIM75JatrGmfcWxs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jz5F5ZbsfaiDIM75JatrGmfcWxs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/fYM1K-F36Lg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/6079933617054103099/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=6079933617054103099&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6079933617054103099?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6079933617054103099?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/fYM1K-F36Lg/secret-regret-of-day-february-25-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 25, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-25-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4MQXo6eCp7ImA9WhVTEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7323253041329381413</id><published>2012-02-24T00:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-24T00:13:00.410-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-24T00:13:00.410-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 24, 2012</title><content type="html">&lt;dl class="avatar-comment-indent" id="comments-block"&gt;&lt;dd class="comment-body" id="Blog1_cmt-7576033154252745981"&gt;  SRE (SRP) - I regret that I still hate you so much for helping to ruin  my family. I think about telling your husband (TLE) on a daily basis,  telling his Mom K, his twin B, but I don't want to hurt your son like  you helped hurt my two. Btw, he was with AM, Jenny, AG, and more. You  were never special, you were just the only one stupid enough to leave  her marriage for him. F/26 
&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;dd class="comment-footer"&gt; &lt;span class="comment-timestamp"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/dd&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7323253041329381413?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZVvIGd_anV1ey5ZIA30ImOCLWvs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZVvIGd_anV1ey5ZIA30ImOCLWvs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZVvIGd_anV1ey5ZIA30ImOCLWvs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZVvIGd_anV1ey5ZIA30ImOCLWvs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/ZNNjjwcV8Rk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7323253041329381413/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7323253041329381413&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7323253041329381413?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7323253041329381413?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/ZNNjjwcV8Rk/secret-regret-of-day-february-24-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 24, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-24-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQAQX49cSp7ImA9WhRaGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-203289631782393477</id><published>2012-02-23T00:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-23T00:09:00.069-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-23T00:09:00.069-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 23, 2012</title><content type="html">i regret lying to myself about who i am, and keeping who i am from  others. i am a bisexual, and as a catholic it is extremely frowned upon.  i love God, and i love my religon, but i want to be accepted. i know  that God has better plans for me after i die, but i can't wait that  long. i need my friends, my family, and even my boyfriend to know so i  can start LIVING being me, and everyone knowing it. my boyfriend  deserves to know, and i know he wouldn't leave me, but i am so ashamed  because his family is so traditionalized and he grew up 'the straight  way' strict. my friends are unpredictable, i don't know how they would  react to me liking both girls, and guys. and my family....well....they  are the most judgemental people i know, and they have caused me to have  major insecurities. only a select few know about who i truely am, and  they all say 'be honest' about it, but how can you be honest about  something you haven't even been honest with yourself about for so many  years? i am in love with my boyfriend, and plans are being made for a  future together. we have been together for so long, and so is it worth  telling the world about? i will only be judged because of it. around  here, if your not straight, your dirt. i already know i'll be with a man  for the rest of my life, so why do i regret about not being honest  about my sexuality? have i not been fully honest with myself and  secretly desire to be with a woman instead of the boyfriend i am soon to  call my fiance? i regret not knowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-203289631782393477?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tZDrTKpKEoebi_0Mgz2t6eFS0tE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tZDrTKpKEoebi_0Mgz2t6eFS0tE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tZDrTKpKEoebi_0Mgz2t6eFS0tE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tZDrTKpKEoebi_0Mgz2t6eFS0tE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/JuSxu5RHLcU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/203289631782393477/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=203289631782393477&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/203289631782393477?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/203289631782393477?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/JuSxu5RHLcU/secret-regret-of-day-february-23-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 23, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-23-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYHSXw7eCp7ImA9WhRaGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-6911984213487786338</id><published>2012-02-22T00:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-22T08:15:38.200-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-22T08:15:38.200-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 22, 2012</title><content type="html">My dad has been caught before looking at porn. My mom found him watching  it. It was at the time my mom and i moved out from my dads because of  other reasons. We moved back in last feb. 2011. Things are okay, i  guess.. they haven't always been great but my dad hasn't logged off his  account on his computer a couple of times and i have looked in his  history, I DID NOT EXPECT TO FIND THESE SITES for porn. I am so  disappointed in him, i hate him. I can't believe he would do this again,  knowing how mad she would be if she found out. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO,  should i tell my mom? should i confront my dad? make him come clean? my  brother told me not to before. but she is my best friend and my mom.   HELP&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
f/16 years old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-6911984213487786338?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GlYAxJutAD4qpeAlo-Gu9N-jZ1w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GlYAxJutAD4qpeAlo-Gu9N-jZ1w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/_S_4Ddeivhg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/6911984213487786338/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=6911984213487786338&amp;isPopup=true" title="26 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6911984213487786338?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6911984213487786338?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/_S_4Ddeivhg/secret-regret-of-day-february-22-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 22, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>26</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-22-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYMQX8-fCp7ImA9WhRaGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-2581822295778862340</id><published>2012-02-21T00:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-21T00:03:00.154-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-21T00:03:00.154-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 21, 2012</title><content type="html">G, you lived near me for 3 years, not very far away.  You worked with my  friend. You were the most amazing, gorgeous, inspirational, beautiful  guy I have ever seen in my life.  And now you are no longer here and I  regret that I did nothing about that.  I could have and I should have  because it is too late for me, and you now.  I love you and will regret  that always.  RIP&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-2581822295778862340?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b1ZYMH1FROtcNqnAytiT_Va72lU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b1ZYMH1FROtcNqnAytiT_Va72lU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b1ZYMH1FROtcNqnAytiT_Va72lU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b1ZYMH1FROtcNqnAytiT_Va72lU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/wCPyZl5IVhM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/2581822295778862340/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=2581822295778862340&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/2581822295778862340?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/2581822295778862340?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/wCPyZl5IVhM/secret-regret-of-day-february-21-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 21, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-21-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUECQX05fip7ImA9WhRaF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-6957644731474428744</id><published>2012-02-20T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-20T00:01:00.326-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-20T00:01:00.326-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 20, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret losing my virginity to a guy that i didn't care about. I wish i  had been stronger and less stupid and should had walk out of the  situation before it all got out of hand. I regret going out on that  friday night and i regret meeting you. You are no good to me and i  wished i knew the moment i walked into your house. I regret feeling this  pleasure in such a meaningless way and trading my body for curiosity  and carelessness. I regret not seeing more value in myself, and not  being focused on the things that i had in front of me. I wished I hadn't  been so stupid, and feeling so depressed about it now that I can't even  function probably. I regret disobeying my God who was there for me from  the start. I hope that one day he could forgive me and i could find a  way to forgive myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-6957644731474428744?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6amJNLAjlpD2D7JhOTtJbuIW_IU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6amJNLAjlpD2D7JhOTtJbuIW_IU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6amJNLAjlpD2D7JhOTtJbuIW_IU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6amJNLAjlpD2D7JhOTtJbuIW_IU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/8hU7S84AIiU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/6957644731474428744/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=6957644731474428744&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6957644731474428744?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6957644731474428744?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/8hU7S84AIiU/secret-regret-of-day-february-20-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 20, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-20-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UCQX84fCp7ImA9WhRaFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7896874672979463705</id><published>2012-02-19T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-19T00:01:00.134-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-19T00:01:00.134-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 19, 2012</title><content type="html">My biggest regret in my life is neglecting my wife. Because I neglected  her and we had no romance in our relationship or passion we have  separated and I have currently lost her to another man. If I could go  back in time for just 1 minute I would have slapped myself off the couch  and told myself to talk more with her about our problems and grow some  balls to get what I needed from work to take care of my family. I regret  this everyday and I hope she and I work this out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7896874672979463705?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRwbYbmmQ4fckyJ74osrlFJCMys/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRwbYbmmQ4fckyJ74osrlFJCMys/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRwbYbmmQ4fckyJ74osrlFJCMys/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRwbYbmmQ4fckyJ74osrlFJCMys/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/B0rdhitp9bQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7896874672979463705/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7896874672979463705&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7896874672979463705?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7896874672979463705?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/B0rdhitp9bQ/secret-regret-of-day-february-19-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 19, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-19-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8CQH0zeyp7ImA9WhRaFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7111820140866391402</id><published>2012-02-18T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-18T00:01:01.383-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-18T00:01:01.383-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 18, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret that you died instead of me.  Every time i experience something  that you didn't get to it hurts.  You weren't there for my wedding or  my divorce. For the birth of your two nieces. My older one, she knows  your picture and that you're up in heaven. I wish that she knew YOU.  I  was 13 and Mom kept telling me that it should have been me that died.  That she would rather have you than me.  It has stuck with me all these  years.. I can't ever forget that and I feel the same.  I regret that I  don't appreciate my life enough. I miss you so much big brother.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
F26&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7111820140866391402?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lRAE4MI-mVqNGGDDY-kqDrKwjtM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lRAE4MI-mVqNGGDDY-kqDrKwjtM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lRAE4MI-mVqNGGDDY-kqDrKwjtM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lRAE4MI-mVqNGGDDY-kqDrKwjtM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/ZeEDMPI4ekE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7111820140866391402/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7111820140866391402&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7111820140866391402?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7111820140866391402?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/ZeEDMPI4ekE/secret-regret-of-day-february-18-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 18, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-18-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMCQHk7eyp7ImA9WhRaFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-4594668316175946094</id><published>2012-02-17T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-17T00:01:01.703-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-17T00:01:01.703-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 17, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret not walking away from you after your husband found out that we  had slept together. You are a married woman and i was a woman in a  struggling relationship. I could see that you were so torn and confused,  but i had fallen in love with you. I Regret the pain i have brought to  your family and to "him". I will never regret you. The other women i  have been with cannot compare to the passion i felt with you. You said i  was your poison and in many ways i was. i hope you can forgive me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-4594668316175946094?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7j3nheVAYLD-AbXPvv-_OBV5Fzs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7j3nheVAYLD-AbXPvv-_OBV5Fzs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7j3nheVAYLD-AbXPvv-_OBV5Fzs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7j3nheVAYLD-AbXPvv-_OBV5Fzs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/KMOi5SxPtlw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/4594668316175946094/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=4594668316175946094&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4594668316175946094?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4594668316175946094?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/KMOi5SxPtlw/secret-regret-of-day-february-17-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 17, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-17-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYFSH44fSp7ImA9WhRaFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-8340220891033665585</id><published>2012-02-16T12:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T12:31:59.035-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-16T12:31:59.035-06:00</app:edited><title>"It's a thoughtful read, and I encourage it." -- Dr. Phil</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KNFdlBCdNGs/TkSzkYqkjtI/AAAAAAAAAFs/OjHbBbbSm9E/s1600/photo8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KNFdlBCdNGs/TkSzkYqkjtI/AAAAAAAAAFs/OjHbBbbSm9E/s320/photo8.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Dr. Phil recently dedicated an entire episode to the Secret Regrets book (click &lt;a href="http://www.drphil.com/shows/show/1625/"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; for a show summary)! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Order &lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;your copy of the Secret Regrets book today on &lt;a href="http://www.tinyurl.com/SecretRegretsAmazon"&gt;Amazon&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.tinyurl.com/SecretRegretsKindle"&gt;Kindle&lt;/a&gt;, or &lt;a href="http://www.tinyurl.com/SecretRegretsNook"&gt;Nook&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;Here's what Dr. Phil had to say about the Secret Regrets book:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;"I'm glad  to see it says 'Volume 1’ because I'm hoping there's going to be a Volume 2 and 3. These are real stories from real people, and there's some  thought-provoking information in here. &lt;u&gt;It's a thoughtful read, and I encourage it.&lt;i&gt;”&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:&amp;quot;msg&amp;quot;}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Dr. Phil McGraw&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gvDePUTMK1s/TZX1tlNPWVI/AAAAAAAAAEY/gt7pFCPxL3o/s1600/Dr%2BPhil%2Bwith%2Bbook%2Bcover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gvDePUTMK1s/TZX1tlNPWVI/AAAAAAAAAEY/gt7pFCPxL3o/s320/Dr%2BPhil%2Bwith%2Bbook%2Bcover.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ON SALE NOW!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Be sure to order the Secret Regrets book at Amazon while it's still on sale (&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Secret-Regrets-What-Second-Chance/dp/1441449914/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1301160151&amp;amp;sr=8-2"&gt;CLICK HERE&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or you can download the Secret Regrets ebook on you Kindle, Nook or iPad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agLYSyeuvGwnZgOWhOGxF02etgc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agLYSyeuvGwnZgOWhOGxF02etgc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agLYSyeuvGwnZgOWhOGxF02etgc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agLYSyeuvGwnZgOWhOGxF02etgc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/75ksdp8l5jU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://www.tinyurl.com/SecretRegretsAmazon" title="&quot;It's a thoughtful read, and I encourage it.&quot; -- Dr. Phil" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/8340220891033665585/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=8340220891033665585&amp;isPopup=true" title="25 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/8340220891033665585?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/8340220891033665585?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/75ksdp8l5jU/secret-regrets-featured-on-dr-phil-on.html" title="&quot;It's a thoughtful read, and I encourage it.&quot; -- Dr. Phil" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KNFdlBCdNGs/TkSzkYqkjtI/AAAAAAAAAFs/OjHbBbbSm9E/s72-c/photo8.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>25</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2011/03/secret-regrets-featured-on-dr-phil-on.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcCQH4zeyp7ImA9WhRaE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7266730110160392127</id><published>2012-02-16T00:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T00:01:01.083-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-16T00:01:01.083-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 16, 2012</title><content type="html">My biggest regret is not treating her like the Navajo princess I used to  call her.  She deserved a lot more than what I gave her.  I hit rock  bottom and took her with me.  I made a beautiful woman feel insecure and  feel she would never be enough.  I let her down, my kids down, and I  let down my family and friends.  I lied to her and to myself.  I gave  someone else a chance to steal her heart.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I broke someone who  was most precious to me, and now I spend every day trying to help repair  her and show her how much she truly means to me.  As much as it hurts  to know I may not be her first choice and her heart may be with someone  else, I’m still not going to give up.  I’ve grown so much in the last  two years and learned a lot.  I hope and pray one day she’ll see me for  who I am now and not for who I was.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love you Cathy,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7266730110160392127?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E9iNm83T8BJyKPE-Jjp9yB7mqkA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E9iNm83T8BJyKPE-Jjp9yB7mqkA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E9iNm83T8BJyKPE-Jjp9yB7mqkA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E9iNm83T8BJyKPE-Jjp9yB7mqkA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/CwNpWOuWeDs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7266730110160392127/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7266730110160392127&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7266730110160392127?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7266730110160392127?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/CwNpWOuWeDs/secret-regret-of-day-february-16-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 16, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-16-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQGRHgyfyp7ImA9WhRaE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-4878636668356226009</id><published>2012-02-15T00:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T08:48:45.697-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-15T08:48:45.697-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 15, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret ending my first significant romantic relationship on bad terms.  I had the option to leave things peacefully, but I allowed myself to  speak from a place of anger. Several years have passed but I still  regret this choice. Cutting someone off and acting like it never  happened is not only rough on them - it is rough on your heart and I  wouldn't make this decision again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-4878636668356226009?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ADs5qRBtqUP9ZsMABA8KqgsM_ak/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ADs5qRBtqUP9ZsMABA8KqgsM_ak/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ADs5qRBtqUP9ZsMABA8KqgsM_ak/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ADs5qRBtqUP9ZsMABA8KqgsM_ak/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/8-UZZdlgjMA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/4878636668356226009/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=4878636668356226009&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4878636668356226009?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4878636668356226009?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/8-UZZdlgjMA/secret-regret-of-day-february-15-2011.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 15, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-15-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UCQXk6fyp7ImA9WhRaEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-2578499720974497299</id><published>2012-02-14T00:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T00:01:00.717-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-14T00:01:00.717-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 14, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret never trying to get you back after the two years we were  together. I regret sending you that text message saying things were to  stressful. I regret walking out of those doors and coming back home  because I didn't realize that would be last kiss I ever got to give you.  I regret not fighting harder, and not being honest about the way I  really felt. I regret not giving us our space that we needed and I regret  not become close with your family until things were over. I regret not  doing things the right way, and letting everything get out of control  based on a stupid misunderstanding. I regret not  telling you I'm sorry, not trusting you, not being there all the time,  and not being able to open up because I was afraid. I love you, and I  regret saying you were a regret. I hope I get you back one day. Until  then, I'll live with my regret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-2578499720974497299?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EG7DcbgRNq3FbzP4eSTRibVLj0Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EG7DcbgRNq3FbzP4eSTRibVLj0Y/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EG7DcbgRNq3FbzP4eSTRibVLj0Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EG7DcbgRNq3FbzP4eSTRibVLj0Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/lnkJr_9KHJs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/2578499720974497299/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=2578499720974497299&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/2578499720974497299?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/2578499720974497299?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/lnkJr_9KHJs/secret-regret-of-day-february-14-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 14, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-14-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8CQX0zeSp7ImA9WhRaEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-4035730846432480354</id><published>2012-02-13T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T00:01:00.381-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-13T00:01:00.381-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 13, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret being pulled into the hype of the internet in 8th grade. I've  made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I think that was my biggest.  Instead of being out with friends or enjoying life, I spent everyday  inside on the computer talking to people I didn't know. I met men and  almost left my home with a 19 year old run away because I thought I was  "in love" at 14. I could have been killed. I'm glad my mom called the  police before he could get back on that Greyhound bus headed for my  state. I was really scared. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
17/F&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-4035730846432480354?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yd9KS_tmVR61qKKrmN2ndW5knjU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yd9KS_tmVR61qKKrmN2ndW5knjU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yd9KS_tmVR61qKKrmN2ndW5knjU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Yd9KS_tmVR61qKKrmN2ndW5knjU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/wxicCCN8KfQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/4035730846432480354/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=4035730846432480354&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4035730846432480354?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4035730846432480354?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/wxicCCN8KfQ/secret-regret-of-day-february-13-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 13, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-13-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMCQXk6eCp7ImA9WhRaEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7900925771303841966</id><published>2012-02-12T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T00:01:00.710-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-12T00:01:00.710-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 12, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret not have the strength to jump. Things would be a lot simpler if  I had just finished things then and there. I would not be left having  to grieve over you and I would not be so overcome with regret and guilt.  I regret feeling this way and despising you. I regret being jealous  that you are gone and I regret hating you for leaving me here, even  though I was going to do the same. My biggest regret is not telling you  how sorry I am while I had the chance. Rest in peace baby,  I love you  with all my heart and I still pray for you daily and thinking of you  every second, I miss you xo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7900925771303841966?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QUPjyPskxF8YvddLmO_TGFGAf2w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QUPjyPskxF8YvddLmO_TGFGAf2w/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QUPjyPskxF8YvddLmO_TGFGAf2w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QUPjyPskxF8YvddLmO_TGFGAf2w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/HkCKmaCrTsA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7900925771303841966/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7900925771303841966&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7900925771303841966?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7900925771303841966?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/HkCKmaCrTsA/secret-regret-of-day-february-12-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 12, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-12-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcCQXo7eyp7ImA9WhRbGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-6926007320857924495</id><published>2012-02-11T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T00:01:00.403-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-11T00:01:00.403-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 11, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret that I couldn't fix him. It hurts even more knowing that he is  "fixed" for her, from what I hear. She knows what he did to me, and she  doesn't believe me. My ex told me his g/f assaulted him,  and at the time I believed that, and being out now I realize that wasn't  true. Now I am sure he is going around telling people I abused him, but  why did he hurt me in the first 2 months of the relationship? After 7  months I finally left. Why is she with him for 6 months now and nothing has  happened? Why did a night in jail change him? I hear abusers never  change, but from what I hear, he has. I guess I regret ever telling her  about him because she has a big head thinking it won't happen to her, and  she thinks I'M the bad one. I regret buying all of his lies because  looking on the outside, I know that's all he does, so why hasn't he hurt  her yet – and why doesn't she believe me? I just want them apart and for  her to see him for what he really is. But as of now he has changed. And I  would do ANYTHING to go back to him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-6926007320857924495?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AiBahQPtRGrmmibeNJenTbMigjc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AiBahQPtRGrmmibeNJenTbMigjc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AiBahQPtRGrmmibeNJenTbMigjc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AiBahQPtRGrmmibeNJenTbMigjc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/w581YYV9HVY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/6926007320857924495/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=6926007320857924495&amp;isPopup=true" title="13 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6926007320857924495?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/6926007320857924495?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/w581YYV9HVY/secret-regret-of-day-february-11-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 11, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>13</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-11-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUECQX4-fip7ImA9WhRbGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-4086381464845429875</id><published>2012-02-10T00:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T00:01:00.056-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-10T00:01:00.056-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 10, 2012</title><content type="html">I'm 16 years old, I'm a guy and I'm in love with another guy. I regret not doing what my heart wanted me to do, I regret from not giving  him the chance to love me, I regret from not listening to my heart, so  this boy has a girlfriend now and it hurts like hell. I regret not building up the  relationship he wanted to build. The only reason why I said no to him  was because of my parents and family, but I did not realize that my  happiness counts too, and now I'm feeling really miserable and lonely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-4086381464845429875?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UolwAu1fZKmQ8mvFCGrl6_8oGl8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UolwAu1fZKmQ8mvFCGrl6_8oGl8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UolwAu1fZKmQ8mvFCGrl6_8oGl8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UolwAu1fZKmQ8mvFCGrl6_8oGl8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/YbyunYijczk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/4086381464845429875/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=4086381464845429875&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4086381464845429875?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4086381464845429875?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/YbyunYijczk/secret-regret-of-day-february-10-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 10, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-10-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQGQX4-cSp7ImA9WhRbF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-3767084191935142029</id><published>2012-02-09T00:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T00:02:00.059-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-09T00:02:00.059-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 9, 2012</title><content type="html">My biggest regret is staying with my husband after he had an emotional  affair with one of his co-workers. If he had just slept w/her I'm sure  it would be easier to "deal with". The fact that he shared my deepest  darkest secret w/her, was / is such huge betrayal. I wish I had the  strength to leave him...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is not a day that goes by that I  don't think about the "other" woman. I was inches from her a few weeks  ago and she didn't even notice. How can you break up someone's home that  way and have no remorse. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Due to the current economic situation,  I can't afford to leave. It hurts so much every day, to look at the man  who "loves me" knowing that I have no feelings form him and no way out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-3767084191935142029?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tb2kHDyBxlrQIlo6BrDRJLgQAC8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tb2kHDyBxlrQIlo6BrDRJLgQAC8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tb2kHDyBxlrQIlo6BrDRJLgQAC8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tb2kHDyBxlrQIlo6BrDRJLgQAC8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/d9vKh91EeIk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/3767084191935142029/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=3767084191935142029&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/3767084191935142029?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/3767084191935142029?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/d9vKh91EeIk/secret-regret-of-day-february-9-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 9, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-9-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8CQHk-eip7ImA9WhRbFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-3675858211282808292</id><published>2012-02-08T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T00:01:01.752-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-08T00:01:01.752-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 8, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret everyday meeting you online. I regret even more lying to you  about who I was because I was to ashamed to be me. I regret sending you  pictures of girls who were prettier, skinnier, and better than I could  ever hope to be. I regret the 5 YEARS I have led you on. I regret  telling you I had to move to Norway which is why I could never see you. I  regret you being the first and only person I have ever fallen in love  with. I regret not being honest because sometimes I think we were meant  to be together. I regret that everyday I think about you, even though  you now know I'm a liar and fraud. I regret not being the one to tell  you, but instead you finding out my lies. I regret that still, I try to tell you  I am who I'm not. I regret that because of you, I can't love anyone  else. I regret that this is my biggest regret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-3675858211282808292?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/etLNj-sXz3hIQ-aw2W39vvM1bPw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/etLNj-sXz3hIQ-aw2W39vvM1bPw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/etLNj-sXz3hIQ-aw2W39vvM1bPw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/etLNj-sXz3hIQ-aw2W39vvM1bPw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/bkrt3_kRbQI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/3675858211282808292/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=3675858211282808292&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/3675858211282808292?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/3675858211282808292?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/bkrt3_kRbQI/secret-regret-of-day-february-8-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 8, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-8-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMCQH0yfSp7ImA9WhRbFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7148951511753918075</id><published>2012-02-07T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T00:01:01.395-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-07T00:01:01.395-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 7, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret NOT regretting that we let our friendship get as intimate and  deep as it did. I am a married woman and sometimes I wonder if I regret  getting married. All I know is, you were always around...an acquaintance  on the fringe of my friends...and then BOOM. You and I became so close,  so quickly. We are "best friends." A man and a woman who are secretly  in love with each other and so obviously attracted to each other it is  ridiculous. Meanwhile my husband accepts our friendship and is gracious  about it. Would I be so gracious if his best friend was a woman that he  spent so much time with? I cannot help the simple fact that I am, after 2  years of being your best friend, in love with you. I hate myself for  it. What would I change if I could? Would I have stayed single? Would I  have ignored the beginning of a beautiful and deep friendship? I regret  not knowing the answer. I regret this constant heartache. I regret being  in love with two men.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7148951511753918075?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UOLBNFZGd476SeKPmCFrk8Aa3oM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UOLBNFZGd476SeKPmCFrk8Aa3oM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UOLBNFZGd476SeKPmCFrk8Aa3oM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UOLBNFZGd476SeKPmCFrk8Aa3oM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/niBsmn-pj1k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7148951511753918075/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7148951511753918075&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7148951511753918075?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7148951511753918075?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/niBsmn-pj1k/secret-regret-of-day-february-7-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 7, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-7-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCQHoyfip7ImA9WhRbFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-7672862776191919260</id><published>2012-02-06T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T00:01:01.496-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-06T00:01:01.496-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 6, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret not helping a girl who was being bullied. Last year during  school, I witnessed a girl get bullied to the point of sobbing,  screaming, and throwing things at the tormentors outside. The teachers  had to have heard or seen it happening, but they did nothing, and  neither did anyone else. They just watched it go down.  I had wanted to  be her friend for a while, and I knew she had been bullied a lot before.  I will always regret not trying to stop them or for not trying to  comfort her. I can't imagine having something like that happening to me  with so many people watching, only to have them do nothing. It still upsets me when I think of it. I'm  so sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-7672862776191919260?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TrY7j6AzX00qV7d1ez-33Kbv68w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TrY7j6AzX00qV7d1ez-33Kbv68w/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TrY7j6AzX00qV7d1ez-33Kbv68w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TrY7j6AzX00qV7d1ez-33Kbv68w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/Sx_75JmU96U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/7672862776191919260/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=7672862776191919260&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7672862776191919260?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/7672862776191919260?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/Sx_75JmU96U/secret-regret-of-day-february-6-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 6, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-6-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ECQHg5fCp7ImA9WhRbFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-4672885738975737252</id><published>2012-02-05T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T00:01:01.624-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-05T00:01:01.624-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 5, 2012</title><content type="html">People have always told me not to live your life in regrets. Though  unfortunately I have a handful that I forever will carry with me. I  would like to share here my regrets in allowing my crippling social  anxiety to prevent me from ever having the balls to share my voice. I  have been singing and writing music since I was about 7 years old, but  once public school choir ended, I've been too afraid of the world to  come out of my soul and share. I regret that though my body aches to  stretch my vocal chords, the thought of standing before an audience  makes my brains want to splatter within my skull. Maybe one day this  will change, but for now it is just an awful regret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-4672885738975737252?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d_sSETZUJeOfrJCMWfy_usWbDSc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d_sSETZUJeOfrJCMWfy_usWbDSc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d_sSETZUJeOfrJCMWfy_usWbDSc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d_sSETZUJeOfrJCMWfy_usWbDSc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/Vhepdu2oJEI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/4672885738975737252/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=4672885738975737252&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4672885738975737252?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4672885738975737252?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/Vhepdu2oJEI/secret-regret-of-day-february-5-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 5, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-5-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UCQXk5cSp7ImA9WhRbE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-4070690952885113180</id><published>2012-02-04T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T00:01:00.729-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-04T00:01:00.729-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 4, 2012</title><content type="html">I'm not sure which I regret more...loving you or leaving you.  At 14  years old, I met you, became involved with you, and fell in love.  13  years later, we've been married, and now divorced.  I can't stop  thinking about the way we left everything and how bad these last few  months have been.  After hearing stories of your lies, cheating, drug  abuse, and many other things, I know that I am better off not being your  wife.  That doesn't make it hurt any less.  I haven't seen or spoken to  you since that day in court, but I wish I could every single day.  I  miss you terribly.  I miss little things you'd say to me, corny jokes  you'd make.  I don't understand why I still care, but I do.  I sincerely  hope that you'll find yourself someday, get help for the drugs, learn  to be honest with yourself and those you care about.  I will never stop  loving you, despite the wrongs you've done me.  I only wish that I could  be at peace with the end of our marriage.&lt;br /&gt;
27/f&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-4070690952885113180?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KLguOg0Pa9NgtfQlLj-LPpT8ipo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KLguOg0Pa9NgtfQlLj-LPpT8ipo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KLguOg0Pa9NgtfQlLj-LPpT8ipo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KLguOg0Pa9NgtfQlLj-LPpT8ipo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/R_YjcMa6KNM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/4070690952885113180/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=4070690952885113180&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4070690952885113180?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/4070690952885113180?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/R_YjcMa6KNM/secret-regret-of-day-february-4-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 4, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-4-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8CQH87fip7ImA9WhRbEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1389607860611998021.post-8447032896658116489</id><published>2012-02-03T00:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T00:01:01.106-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-03T00:01:01.106-06:00</app:edited><title>SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 3, 2012</title><content type="html">I regret not fighting to save my baby...                                              &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I  regret giving up on him before he even had a chance.  I regret not  being the kind of mother who would have been able handle his  disabilities. I regret drinking every day before I found out I was  pregnant...maybe it was the alcohol that caused all his disabilities.                   I feel guilty that I was relieved when he died. I regret  making the decision to end his life. I regret being relieved when they  told me there was no heartbeat because I felt like the decision was  already made for me... I regret not fighting to see him "after", or  demanding to keep the "remains", I regret with all my heart that I  didn't get to bury my son because I didn't think about it at the time, I  was so numb. I regret allowing him to be discarded as medical waste. I  regret that I let strangers throw him away.I regret not holding him for  the first or last time. I regret that I never felt him moving inside me.  I regret naming my second child with the same name we had picked out  for you. only you. (I still think it's funny how I found out I was  pregnant with my second child on the day you were supposed to be born) I regret that in a way I kind of  justified your passing because if I had you, I wouldn't have gotten  pregnant with the perfect, healthy child I have now. I regret pushing  you into the back of my heart because I don't know how to deal with the  loss of you. I still think about you, and I want you to know that your  Daddy and I wanted you so bad. We planned for you, prayed for you, and  we were so happy when we found out we were going to have you... I'm  sorry we gave up on you...we knew we weren't strong enough to go through  caring for a disabled child... I wonder if that is why you left this  world before the day they took you out... because you knew we didn't  fight for you? I'm so sorry. I just wish I got to hold you at least  once... F/26&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1389607860611998021-8447032896658116489?l=www.secretregrets.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRANrvLTFnb8Xt6rQIVeQLjIo90/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRANrvLTFnb8Xt6rQIVeQLjIo90/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRANrvLTFnb8Xt6rQIVeQLjIo90/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hRANrvLTFnb8Xt6rQIVeQLjIo90/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~4/UVoWpTRqy2Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.secretregrets.com/feeds/8447032896658116489/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1389607860611998021&amp;postID=8447032896658116489&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/8447032896658116489?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1389607860611998021/posts/default/8447032896658116489?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/SecretRegrets/~3/UVoWpTRqy2Q/secret-regret-of-day-february-3-2012.html" title="SECRET REGRET OF THE DAY: February 3, 2012" /><author><name>Online Blog</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.secretregrets.com/2012/02/secret-regret-of-day-february-3-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

