How to Stop Saying Things You Regret

From Reactive to Reflective (00:01)

Brett Hill: It’s a little strange for a guy who’s a coach in mindful communication to admit he was one of the most reactive people around in his younger days. But it’s true. A mentor once told me I was one of the most reactive people he knew—and this was a world-class salesperson at a gigantic computer firm who had taken me under his wing. One day in his office he said, “You know, you’re one of the most reactive people I know.” Of course, I immediately thought, “No, I’m not,” proving his point. That moment sparked a lifelong study for me: What’s going on here? Why am I not more thoughtful? How do I do this differently? I’d like to share some results of that investigation, but first, let’s drill into it a bit more.

It’s hard to get through life without getting triggered in conversation. Someone says something unexpected or hits the right words and suddenly you’re angry, hurt, upset, defensive, mean—coming back with unplanned energy and force. That’s an emotional trigger. You’ve lost the capacity to think, “What should I say next?” It’s not wrong or bad; it’s a neurological event. The questions are: What does it feel like? How often does it happen? What can you do to manage these moments better so you have fewer of them?

The Craft of Composure and Connection (02:22)

Have you ever borne witness to someone getting a comment way out of line—and they don’t react? They respond calmly, coolly, and collected. When you see that, it’s clear who’s being provocative and who’s not budging. I did a recent podcast about not accepting tainted gifts; this is along those lines. Here, we’ll talk about a few things you can do to prepare for these moments.

First, consider an orientation to this work. I call it work because you have to do something you don’t do now in order to learn. Learning is effort. It’s not just “self-improvement” or “I want to succeed in business”—too broad. Think of it as a craft, like piano, painting, or songwriting. You’re learning scales so you can make art. In our case, the art is effective communication, collaboration, connection, resiliency, resourcefulness, trust, rapport, and having the best possible moments with people—even under stress.

For me, these skills are about engaging others authentically and meaningfully to create a life that’s cool, fun, engaging, and connected—especially in times of loneliness and disconnection. It’s deeply satisfying to enter conversations with the intention of being an ally and resource, while also recognizing I need help and support too.

So I orient to the people I meet and those who hire me to be the best, most helpful resource I can be, and I work hard at that. If you want to experience someone really listening and crafting a path forward for your relationships, conversations, and work—with a focus not just on what you do, but how you show up—my work is always twofold: being, then doing. When you land in the authentic, somatic sense of who you truly are and engage the world from that place, the way you speak, connect, and set boundaries changes. It’s amazing. Check it out at TheMindfulCoach.com.

Studying Your Triggers and Making Choices (08:07)

So what is this craft? What can you do to be less reactive? Without diving into all the psychotherapy, here’s something you can practice regardless of your history. Start by studying what it feels like when you’re under stress—especially in the moments leading up to being reactive. In trauma work this is critical, and while this isn’t trauma work per se, it’s in the same zone: your nervous system flips from being in control to being on automatic. There’s a good reason you’re the way you are. We’re not making it wrong or bad. The question is: Is this how you wish to be? What can you do differently for a better outcome?

This can be tricky because triggering moments happen fast. You’re fine, then a coworker says something like, “Nice of you to finally show up,” and boom—you fire back, “Well, I worked 30 times harder this week than you did.” You may not be wrong; it could be unjust or unkind. Even so, the question isn’t whether what they said was right. The question is: How do you want to respond? Make a choice about what to say next. That’s the opposite of reactivity.

You don’t develop this by wishing. Step one is learning what it feels like right before the surge—when everything in your nervous system wants to react fast. If you can catch it, you can interrupt the automatic response with a moment to do something else. Slow it down. Notice how strongly you want to spit out a rebuttal or defense. When you feel that rise, name it: “There’s that surge.” Take a breath. If you can notice and name it, you’re more than halfway home.

At first, this will happen after the moment, during the “clean up on aisle three” phase, when you reflect on what you said and wish you’d said it differently. Use those reflections. Ask, “What did that feel like in that moment?” That’s a valuable study.

And to be clear, this is not about stifling your voice. It’s not about being okay with hurtful or out-of-line comments. It’s about expressing boundaries in a way that will be heard and respected, rather than from a reactive, angry, or hurt place. Those feelings may be true—just choose to voice them rather than letting them spill out. Respond consciously and intentionally. That often means slowing down because the urgency in the rebuttal is powerful. That’s your clue.

We’ll say more about this after the break.

The Foundational Practice: Intentional Pause (14:09)

Here’s one foundational practice I learned from martial arts—something so central that the entire art is embedded in it. Several times a day, practice pausing before you say almost anything in low-stakes conversations. You’re in a Zoom meeting, talking to a cashier or waiter. “Hey, want some coffee?” Beat, beat. “Yeah.” “How’s it going, Brett?” Pause, pause. “It’s great.” “What do you want to do this evening?” Pause, pause. “Let’s go to that movie we were talking about.”

Practice where nothing’s on the line. If you want presence under stress, you have to practice when you’re not under stress. You’re not making a big deal of it or trying to look super mindful. Just pause for a couple of seconds before you speak. That’s it.

You’re not trying to wring deep meaning from the pause. If insights come—great—but don’t chase them. You’re rehearsing the muscle of pausing on purpose before you speak.

Crucial point: you must choose to do this intentionally. You’ll know you did it because you had the thought, “I’m pausing now,” and then you paused.

Why this approach? It’s a craft. Like learning a scale on the piano or reciting a poem, you practice and play it back. You learn your cadence. If you do this enough, your brain learns it’s easy to pause. So when someone says, “You really disappointed me the other day,” instead of a defensive response—maybe something true but not graceful—you have a circuit that says, “I’m going to pause. I’m noticing I want to fire back, but I’m not going to. I’m choosing something else.” Then you might say, “Oh, okay. How so?” and lead with curiosity. That’s a different lesson, but it often leads to better outcomes than losing control.

Resilience and Better Outcomes (21:00)

With enough practice, you wire the executive function part of your brain—the part that makes decisions on purpose and brings conscious awareness to your experience. That gives you the capacity not to react automatically. That’s resilience: not letting the world knock you about so you’re not at the whim of circumstances. You have to practice where it’s not challenging.

So when someone says, “This project was a disaster. Why didn’t you fix it?” instead of a big reaction, you can say, “I can see this is important. Tell me more about your expectations.” Maybe it solves the problem, maybe it doesn’t, but it gives you a better chance at a positive outcome.

In the end, it’s not about being right or wrong. It’s about being in charge of your own voice, how you show up, what you say, and your impact—rather than letting someone press a button and trigger an automatic response that’s out of line. You want more center, so when someone says something challenging, it doesn’t knock you out of your seat. That kind of response opens doors to outcomes that wouldn’t otherwise be possible, and that benefits everyone. We need more of that these days.

Thank you for listening. This is Brett Hill, the mindful coach. Until next time, stay present.