Like many men, I wish I'd kept quiet sometimes. Some things I said were meant to hurt, and they hurt. I said words that I didn’t know would cause sadness, and they did. I fought battles where diplomacy was needed.

Like many men, I regret not having spoken at some points. The apology I felt but didn’t utter until it was just a meaningless rhetorical exercise, a pat on my own back, well done, you guy, way to go. The silence when somebody else bullied, or abused. The lack of courage.

But then, like some men, I do carry some pride for staying and talking, for saying my piece; and also for not turning bad into worse. For not turning myself into a worse person. I've told some people "Enough, no more". I've said that to my father. And I've refrained to speak when it was not my place. Sometimes.