Let the Past Rot: Regret Makes Great Fertilizer

A practical guide to composting your emotional shit and blooming into who you’re supposed to be. The power is yours.

When Time Slips Through Your Fingers

If you're like me, it feels like college just happened—Drag Race is premiering, I just talked to my grandma on the phone; Obama is getting dragged for wearing a tan suit; my ZuneHD is fully charged; and I have tickets to see Adele in Detroit this weekend. But that wasn’t just happening. That was a million years ago. And here I am. Here you are. Is this it? Is this what life is?

Where's my grandma? Where's my joy? Where the hell is my Zune? Oh, but there’s a cat. Unexpected, but nice.

It’s Not Just Midlife—It’s Every Decade

Many of us hit a point in life where things stop making sense—where the life we built no longer fits the person we've become. People call it a midlife crisis, but honestly? It’s more like a decade crisis. The one I had at 25 was WILD—I lost 200 pounds and got my first boyfriend. It wasn’t a breakdown, it was a reset. And these resets? They keep coming. They hurt like hell, but they’re necessary.

Bitterness Is a Signal—Not a Sentence

Maybe you did mess up. Maybe you made choices you regret. Wasted time. Fumbled opportunities. Stayed too long. Said the wrong thing. Gave up on yourself. Maybe the way you were told the world would work isn’t how it turned out. Or worse—maybe you knew all along and feel dumb for not following your instincts. That doesn’t mean you’re doomed—it means you’re human.

That dull ache? That creeping resentment? That gut-punch when you realize joy feels like a memory, not your baseline? That’s not weakness—it’s the signal that it’s time to grow again. Bitterness is what happens when you stop believing new things are possible.

But here’s the secret: you can use that bitterness. It’s not just poison. It’s compost.

Regret, disappointment, even rage—it’s all just emotional rot. And rot feeds new growth. The pain you’re feeling isn’t a dead end. It’s soil.

The Guide: Turning Rot Into Growth

Growth doesn’t happen in isolation. If your relationships, your job, your city, or your daily habits don’t nourish you—they’ll rot you. As explored in Show Me Love, relationships need to be mutually beneficial to thrive. Love isn’t less real because it’s conditional—it’s stronger when it’s reciprocal.

And that pride you’re clinging to? The refusal to ask for help, the belief that you should already have it all figured out? That’s not strength. That’s fear dressed up as dignity. Pride Won’t Save You reminds us that connection begins the moment you let go of pride and start speaking the truth.

Sometimes, you really do need to burn it all down. Burn It Down and Begin Again isn’t just a title—it’s a blueprint. You have to create the vacuum where something new can live. Whether it’s your mindset, your routine, or your whole damn life—clean house.

Because the future won’t wait. As What Are You Waiting For? reminds us, time keeps ticking. The door to transformation isn’t always open, but it’s open right now. What’s holding you back?

And maybe—just maybe—it’s time to leave. Physically, emotionally, socially. If you’re clinging to people or places that only drain you, it’s time to reread Maybe You Should Leave and start packing.

And stop pretending you’re fine just because you’re surrounded. How You’re Making Yourself Lonely breaks down how easy it is to isolate behind smiles, small talk, and silent suffering. Real connection requires real effort—and real honesty.

Here’s how to use all that emotional sludge to grow something better:

1. Admit What’s Not Working Anymore.
If you feel like you’re dragging your life behind you, you probably are. If your goals, routines, or relationships feel like clothes you’ve outgrown—they are.

2. Stop Romanticizing the Old Version of You.
You’re not failing because you don’t feel like you used to. You’ve changed. That’s the point. The past can’t be your blueprint for a future that fits.

3. Let the Rage Happen.
Rage is real. Don’t stuff it down. Don’t make it polite. Scream. Write. Cry. Mourn the time you lost. Then use that fire to burn away what doesn’t serve you.

4. Make One Brave Decision.
It doesn’t have to be huge. But it has to be different. Apply for something. Quit something. Buy the thing. Ask the question. Say no. Get in motion.

5. Rebuild Around What Feeds You.
Now that the dead stuff’s out of the way, what brings life back into your body? Who makes you feel alive? What habits make you feel clear and proud?

Start there. Build slow. Fertilize as needed.

You're Still Growing, Babe

The version of you that’s trying to grow deserves your protection. So guard your time. Reassess everything. Don’t be afraid to look unrecognizable when you bloom. Growth isn’t just something that happens to you—it’s something you choose. Over and over. You don’t need to get it perfect. You just need to get it moving.

Let the old version of you rot. Turn it into fertilizer. And grow something wild.

It’s your turn now. Don’t wait for rock bottom. Don’t wait for permission. Start digging. Start planting. The life you want is buried under all that old shit. Turn it. Use it. Bloom.