“Guilt isn’t Jewish, because it keeps you stuck, stops you from growing. Regret is Jewish because it’s the catalyst for growth”

Facilitated by Faigy Peritzman

Q:

Like any “good” Jewish woman, I find myself confronted by guilt on a regular basis. If I do chesed, I feel guilty that it came at the expense of my family or my self-time, etc. If I don’t do chesed, I feel guilty that I lost a chance to do a mitzvah. I find guilt follows me throughout the day, confusing me every time I have a decision to make. How do I know when guilt is a healthy wake-up call, and how do I know when it’s self-sabotaging?

Antithesis to Growth

Ruchi Koval

OY!

Let me challenge your very first sentence. “Like any good Jewish woman….” Yeah, you put “good” in quotes, but we all know what you really meant. You meant good — unironically.

Sadly, the notion that guilt is good is way too prevalent in our culture. You know how I know guilt isn’t good? Because it usually keeps us stuck and sad. I vastly prefer its virtuous and lovely twin, regret.

“Regret” in Hebrew is “charatah,” and it’s one of the beautiful steps of teshuvah (that’s how we know it’s virtuous and lovely). The difference between guilt and regret is this: Guilt — I did bad (or someone thought I did bad) so I am bad and I don’t know what to do about it. Regret — I did bad, but I’m not bad, so let me distance myself from my mistake and improve so I become the kind of person who acts in alignment with my higher values.

See the difference? Guilt isn’t Jewish, because it keeps you stuck, stops you from growing. Regret is Jewish because it’s the catalyst for growth. One might even argue that if you never regret your previous behavior, you’re never growing. If you look back at your previous self from five or ten years ago, and you have all the same beliefs and habits and you regret nothing, you know what that means? It means you haven’t grown a whit. Growth, by definition, means we’ll notice that certain behaviors aren’t in alignment with our values. Then we calibrate and adjust and course correct.

Guilt is like a crossroads. That uncomfortable feeling is a sign with two options, pointing in opposite directions: Do you think you did something wrong? If so, regret it, repair it, and move forward guiltlessly. Or do you think you did nothing wrong? If so, what is this disapproval you’re feeling? Because it has no place in your head.

So, my friend, try to shake off your constant companion, guilt, and ask yourself this instead: Do I regret davening and ignoring my kids? Do I regret letting that chesed opportunity go? Given a do-over, what would I choose? Those questions will take you much further in your quest for clarity and spiritual peace.

Ruchi Koval is a parent coach, author, kiruv rebbetzin, and public speaker who helps parents struggling with their teens and adult children.

It Isn’t Always What You Think It Is

Shevi Samet

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okes, often with a truthful undertone, abound about Jewish women and their guilt. We care, a lot, holding ourselves to high standards of conduct, and when we fall short of those expectations, we feel that healthy self-correcting mechanism — a feeling in the pit in our stomach. Call that feeling shame, guilt, remorse, or regret. Whatever you call it, it’s a gift from Hashem bestowed upon Adam and Chava when they crossed that very first line, and it’s instilled in all of humanity to tell us that realignment is required.

But that sensation we often feel in our abdomen isn’t always guilt. There’s a whole range of uncomfortable emotions that take up space in our bodies. Being able to identify them accurately is key. We may assume that it’s one thing, perhaps the more obvious possibility of guilt, when in fact it’s something far more subtle.

It doesn’t feel good to disappoint people, to be aware of or in the presence of their frustration or dissatisfaction. This can bring up a whole host of sensations within us: discomfort with feeling insecurity or inadequacy, or an internalization of the blame being directed toward us. When this happens, we may assume that what we’re feeling is guilt, but it’s not. Remorse serves a purpose and shows up when we have mis-stepped. The disheartening “uh-oh” feeling we experience when someone is unhappy with us is something else entirely, despite its close proximity and similarity to sensations of regret.

So how to tell the difference? When that feeling shows up, ask yourself what came before it. An action or thought or word that falls short and needs correction? Or something else more related to what the other person is experiencing?

Often people will address the situation by telling themselves (or trying to convince themselves) that they have nothing to feel guilty about, and experience frustration when that doesn’t work. It doesn’t work either because what you’re feeling is guilt and it’s appropriate, or because what you’re feeling isn’t guilt at all. Name the correct emotion, “I feel sad/scared/frustrated that they’re not happy with me,” and see if that loosens the knot inside.

Shevi Samet is a wife and mother, educator, kallah teacher, and Core MMC.

Two Types of Guilt

Elisheva Kaminetsky

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daughters, sisters, mothers, friends, community members, and professionals, we wear many hats. Our roles create competing pulls on time, attention, and energy. With that comes guilt and the sense of “dropped balls,” because we can’t be everywhere at once. There is no superwoman!

Guilt can paralyze. Instead of inspiring us to do more, it can cause us to do less. But not all guilt is the same. Healthy guilt is a small, truthful pinch that points to one repairable step — an apology to make, a call to return, a habit to reset. That kind of guilt is a dashboard light, not a verdict; when we respond, menuchas hanefesh returns.

The Torah doesn’t ask us to do everything. It asks us to do the right thing in its time — retzon Hashem for this hour. If you passed on one chesed because your family needed you, that may be what Hashem wanted of you. The goal is to keep retzon Hashem in mind and choose actively, so we aren’t dropping balls in panic but putting some down to pick up later. That’s success, not failure.

Here’s a practical shift: Name the competing values in front of you, then choose the one that best serves retzon Hashem right now. Put the other aside with intention. When a choice flows from values, we can trade guilt for clarity, courage, and calm.

When the path isn’t clear, aseh lecha rav. Ask a rav or trusted mentor who knows you and your situation to help sort priorities and illuminate where retzon Hashem likely lies today.

So how do we know when guilt is healthy and when it is self-sabotage? Healthy guilt names the next step and lets you move. Self-sabotaging guilt mutters, “Never enough,” no matter what you do. The first leads to teshuvah and growth; the second drains strength and joy. Being a “good” Jewish woman doesn’t mean doing everything; it means serving Hashem faithfully with intention focused on your primary role this hour — and setting the rest down, on purpose, to pick up when its time comes.

Elisheva Kaminetsky is a wife, parent, grandparent, principal, adult educator, consultant, and kallah teacher.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 974)