In the Season 3 finale, Mr. Johnson, the school custodian and unexpected philosopher on Abbott Elementary — a sitcom about teachers at a Philadelphia school, says something profound. He’s talking to Janine, the earnest and often overly enthusiastic teacher and main character of the show as she wrestles with telling her crush about her feelings for him. Mr. Johnson says:
“For me, regrets have always been harder to live with than consequences.”
:::::: Record Scratch :::::
This hit me like a ton of bricks.
At the time, I was sitting with a decision I didn’t want to make. I was in a job that was draining me in ways I couldn’t fully explain to anyone else. On the outside, it looked as if I was fine or even crushing it! On the inside, it felt like I was losing myself.
And like most overthinking overachievers, I kept asking myself the “responsible” questions, just like Janine: What’s the smart move? What will people think? What if I’m wrong? What if the consequences are really bad?
But that line reframed my thoughts entirely.
Instead of asking whether I could handle the consequences of leaving, I started asking whether I could live with the regret of staying. The regret of continuing to see my health deteriorate from stress, the regret of not finding work that would energize me and make me feel proud, the regret of years passing in the gray of depression and joylessness.
I told my boss I was leaving one week after that episode aired and I left that job without a shiny plan waiting on the other side.
That shift didn’t suddenly give me clarity or confidence. It gave me permission — permission to trust my internal alarm system, even when I wasn’t leaving on a high note and couldn’t craft a heroic exit to an exciting new role.
What followed was a season of uncertainty, reflection, and way too much Netflix-bingeing and doomscrolling. But, it was also the beginning of something truer — a reconnection to myself, my values, and the kinds of questions I actually care about.
As I settled into my self-knowing, I started to notice that this question of regret or consequences was animating so many people’s lives right now. Over margaritas or sushi, friends would tell me about the doubt they felt about the path they were on or that they questioned whether their parents would ever fully accept their life choices.
That’s because the hardest decisions aren’t usually about right vs. wrong or pros and cons. They’re about choosing between external approval and internal alignment. And we rarely get to hear what those moments actually feel like from the inside.
So much of what we see — especially online — is the after photo. The cleaned-up success story. The PR-approved hero’s arc. What we don’t see is the doubt, the social fallout, the fear of disappointing people, or the quiet bravery it takes step out on personal conviction alone.
Unpopular Decisions exists to create space for those stories.
We’re living in a moment where so much of life is pre-curated for us. Algorithms tell us what to want. Social media rewards hot takes and success tips over nuance or doubt. Community and attention are fragmented.
When everything around you is designed to make you scroll, conform, or optimize away uncertainty, living authentically requires bravery. Choosing differently isn’t just uncomfortable — it’s countercultural.
That’s part of why this project feels so urgent to me.
This is a place for honest conversations about the moments when people trusted themselves — and faced the consequences (and rewards) of choosing differently. It’s for anyone who has ever felt alone in a choice that didn’t make sense to others, or unsure whether they were being courageous or reckless (or maybe a little of both).
If you’re here, my guess is that you’ve faced, or are facing, a decision that isn’t obvious, isn’t popular, and isn’t easily explained in a headline or a highlight reel. This community exists because courage multiplies when it’s witnessed — and because none of us should have to navigate these moments alone.
More soon.
For now, I’m glad you’re here.
— Jameelah
P.S. As you think about your own life right now — what feels heavier: the consequences you’re afraid of, or the regret of not choosing differently?
If you want to share, reply directly to this email. I read every note.
P.P.S. Here’s the clip from Abbott Elementary that changed everything for me:
