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Written by Adam McIlroy.
15 minute read
The top regrets of the dying are the recurring patterns of regret that people often express in the final weeks of life. They were first documented by Australian palliative care nurse Bronnie Ware, whose work has since been echoed by writers, hospice workers and end-of-life specialists around the world.
Almost universally, these regrets centre on five themes: living inauthentically, working too hard, suppressing feelings, losing touch with friends and not allowing oneself to be happy.
In this article, we’ll walk through each regret, where the ideas come from and what we can learn from them while there is still time to act.
Key takeaways:
The framework of the “top regrets of the dying” comes from Bronnie Ware, an Australian palliative care nurse who spent years caring for people in the final weeks of life. Through quiet conversations with people approaching death, she noticed the same regrets appearing again and again.
Ware first shared these observations in a 2009 online article called Regrets of the Dying, which later grew into her 2011 memoir, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying: A Life Transformed by the Dearly Departing. Her book has since become widely known around the world. Ware’s own website describes it as translated into 32 languages.
It is important to be clear about the evidence. Ware’s five regrets are observational and anecdotal, drawn from her time in palliative care. They are not the results of a peer-reviewed scientific study. That does not make them meaningless. It simply means they should be understood as wisdom from the bedside rather than statistical research.
Other writers have explored similar territory. British journalist Georgina Scull’s 2022 book, Regrets of the Dying: Stories and Wisdom That Remind Us How to Live, draws on interviews with people facing terminal illness and people who have survived near-death experiences.
These ideas also connect with recognised concepts in palliative psychology, including “life review”, a process associated with psychiatrist Robert Butler’s work in the 1960s. Life review describes the way people often look back over their lives to find meaning, closure and peace.
The five most common regrets of the dying, as documented by Ware, are: wishing they had lived a life true to themselves, wishing they had not worked so hard, wishing they had expressed their feelings, wishing they had stayed in touch with friends and wishing they had let themselves be happier.
This was the most common regret Ware encountered. Many people, looking back, realised they had lived a life shaped by what others expected of them, parents, partners, peers or society, rather than what they truly wanted.
This can show up in many ways. Some people regret careers chosen for status or security rather than meaning. Others regret dreams left untouched, identities hidden or choices made to avoid disappointing other people. Over time, those small compromises can build into the feeling of having lived someone else’s life.
The lesson is not that we should ignore everyone around us. It is that authenticity leads to fulfilment, while living only for other people’s expectations can lead to regret.
While there is still time, it can help to ask: where am I choosing from fear, and where am I choosing from truth? Even one honest change can help us feel more at home in our own life.
This regret came most often from the men Ware nursed, though women in her care expressed it too. Looking back, they wished they had spent less time at work and more time with their children, partners and friends.
The deeper regret was not simply about work itself. Many people realised that the income, status or career milestones they had chased were not what mattered most at the end. What they missed were ordinary moments: meals together, bedtime stories, birthdays, conversations and shared time.
This is not an argument against working hard. For many people, work is a necessity, not a choice. Bills need paying, families need supporting and life can be demanding.
The gentler lesson is about presence. The dying were not saying, “I wish I had been lazy.” They were saying, “I wish I had been there.” For those still working and caring for others, small choices can matter: protecting an evening, putting the phone away or giving someone your full attention.
Many of Ware’s patients had spent their lives suppressing their feelings to keep the peace and came to regret it. They felt they had settled for shallow relationships or never become the person they were capable of being.
Unspoken feelings can become heavy. Love, anger, apology, gratitude and grief all need somewhere to go. When they are held in for too long, they can turn into bitterness or distance. Ware also observed that emotional suppression affected people’s wellbeing and modern psychology continues to explore the link between emotional expression and health.
Honest conversations are not always easy. They may change a relationship, deepen it or reveal that it is not as healthy as we hoped. But silence can carry its own cost. Honest conversations can become especially important when families are dealing with grief or coping with the death of a parent.
Saying “I love you”, “I’m sorry”, “I miss you” or “this hurt me” can feel vulnerable. It can also be one of the most freeing things we do.
Nearly every dying patient Ware spoke with thought about old friends in their final weeks. Many had let treasured friendships slip away through busyness, distance or simple drift and could no longer track people down to say goodbye.
In the final weeks of life, practical details often fall away. What remains is love and relationships. People rarely speak about targets, money or status. They speak about people.
Modern research into loneliness and social isolation also points to the importance of close relationships for wellbeing, mental health and life satisfaction. Friendship is not a small thing. Close relationships often become pillars of strength during illness and times of uncertainty.
The hopeful part is that reconnecting can begin simply. A message. A call. An invitation for tea. A few honest words: “I was thinking about you.” We do not need to wait for the perfect moment. Often, the imperfect moment is enough.
The final regret surprises many readers: many of Ware’s patients realised, too late, that happiness is a choice and that they had stayed stuck in old habits, fears and patterns that kept them from it.
This is not a glib message about positive thinking. It does not mean we can simply choose our way out of grief, illness, hardship or pain. It means that many people saw, at the end, how often they had postponed joy because change felt frightening.
Ware wrote about people who had pretended to themselves and others that they were content, when deep down they longed for something different. They had stayed safe, but not fulfilled.
Happiness is not something that arrives at the end of life as a reward. It is built through daily choices: laughing more freely, making room for rest, noticing what is good and allowing ourselves small moments of joy without guilt.
Looking across all five regrets, three themes recur: the importance of relationships over achievements, the cost of social conformity and the realisation that happiness is built, not waited for.
Relationships outweigh achievements. At the end of life, people often think less about what they owned or accomplished, and more about who they loved, who loved them and whether they made enough time for those connections.
Authenticity enables fulfilment. Many regrets come from living according to other people’s expectations. The pressure to be sensible, agreeable or successful can quietly move us away from ourselves.
Happiness is built through daily choices. It is easy to imagine happiness as something waiting in the future, after retirement, after success or after things calm down. But the wisdom of the dying suggests that life is made in the ordinary days we are living now.
Self-reflection is one of the most practical tools we have. We do not need to wait until the end of life to ask what matters. We can ask now.
While the broad themes of end-of-life regret are remarkably consistent across populations, there are some observable differences by age, gender and culture, though research in this area remains limited.
Ware noted that the regret about working too hard came mostly from men in her care. This may reflect the generational reality of many older patients she nursed, where men were often expected to be the main breadwinners and women were more often expected to carry unpaid caring responsibilities. As work and family patterns change, this divide may not look the same for future generations.
Age can also shape regret. Someone dying in middle age may grieve missed time with children, unfinished dreams or years they expected to have ahead. Someone dying in old age may look back more on friendships, family relationships or whether they lived in line with their values.
Culture matters too. Much of the writing about the top regrets of the dying comes from Western, English-speaking contexts. Some themes, such as love, friendship and meaning, seem widely recognisable. Others may be shaped by cultural expectations, religious traditions and personal beliefs on death. In some cultures, regrets may centre more on family duty, honouring parents or fulfilling communal responsibilities. In others, regret may focus more strongly on individual self-expression.
The honest answer is that this area needs more research. These patterns are thoughtful and valuable, but they should not be treated as universal rules.
The single most important lesson from people facing death is this: the regrets are almost never about what we did, but about what we did not do. Action, while there is time, is the antidote.
For many people, reflecting on these regrets also becomes the beginning of thoughtful end-of-life planning. Writing down wishes, organising important documents and having open conversations with family can bring reassurance, clarity and peace of mind for everyone involved.
Living with purpose means noticing where your life is being shaped by habit, fear or other people’s expectations. It does not mean every day has to be dramatic or perfect. It means making choices that feel honest.
For some people, that might mean changing career. For others, it might mean setting a boundary, returning to a creative passion or finally saying something that has been unsaid for years.
Purpose often begins quietly. It starts with asking: what matters most to me, and am I making space for it?
The regrets of the dying remind us that relationships need care while people are still here. Love is not only something we feel. It is something we practise.
That might mean reaching out to an old friend, spending more time with family, apologising, forgiving or having a conversation that has been avoided for too long.
These moments can feel small, but they are often what people remember most. A phone call today may become part of the peace someone carries later.
Choosing happiness does not mean denying pain. It means making room for joy alongside everything else.
Many people wait for life to become easier before they allow themselves to enjoy it. But the regrets of the dying suggest that joy often comes through small permissions: to rest, to laugh, to try, to change and to be seen.
Happiness is not selfish. It can make us more generous, more present and more alive to the people around us.
Writers, carers and thinkers have long reflected on the relationship between death and regret. Ware’s The Top Five Regrets of the Dying remains the best-known modern work on the subject, bringing together her experiences in palliative care and the lessons she took from those conversations.
Scull’s Regrets of the Dying: Stories and Wisdom That Remind Us How to Live adds another perspective. After surviving a serious internal rupture, Scull began speaking to people who had faced death closely, including people with terminal illnesses and people who had survived near-death experiences.
There is also a broader psychological tradition behind these reflections. Butler’s work on life review helped frame looking back over one’s life as a meaningful process rather than simply nostalgia. For many people, reflecting on the past can bring clarity, forgiveness and peace.
Aura’s own founder, Paul Jameson, has also written about facing mortality after his diagnosis with motor neurone disease. His story is not one of pretending that illness is easy. It is about looking honestly at the time we have and asking how we might use it well.
That is the thread running through all of this work: death can clarify life. It can show us what we value, what we have avoided and what still deserves our attention.
The wisdom of the dying is not just personal, it is practical. Reflecting on these regrets earlier in life can help us become more intentional in our relationships, work and daily choices.
It can also help us think about legacy. Not only what we leave behind, but how we want people to feel when they remember us. Were we present? Were we honest? Did we make things easier for the people we love?
For some readers, this article may also prompt thoughts about funeral wishes or planning ahead. Aura’s funeral plans are there for those who feel ready to take that next step, including direct cremation options. But there is no pressure. Starting with reflection is enough.
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The top 5 regrets of the dying are: wishing they had lived a life true to themselves, wishing they had not worked so hard, wishing they had expressed their feelings, wishing they had stayed in touch with friends and wishing they had let themselves be happier.
Bronnie Ware is an Australian palliative care nurse and author. She identified these regrets through years of caring for people in the final weeks of life, listening to what they wished they had done differently.
No, not in the formal academic sense. Bronnie Ware’s work is based on observation and experience in palliative care rather than a peer-reviewed study. However, many of the themes connect with wider research into life review, relationships, wellbeing and end-of-life reflection.
No. Many people approaching death also experience peace, acceptance and gratitude. Ware herself wrote that every patient she cared for found peace before they died. Regret is common, but it is not the whole story.
You can begin by reflecting early, prioritising relationships, expressing your feelings, staying in touch with friends and noticing where your life is being shaped by other people’s expectations. Small, honest choices made now can reduce regret later.
According to Bronnie Ware, the most common regret was: “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”
Some regrets may differ by culture. Themes such as relationships and meaning appear widely, but ideas around duty, family, work and self-expression can vary. Most existing writing on this topic comes from Western contexts, so it is important not to overgeneralise.
Reflecting on death can help us focus on what matters most. It often brings relationships, meaning, honesty and happiness into sharper view. This is sometimes called mortality salience: the awareness that life is limited can change how we choose to live.