Bernard O'Shea: 5 things I no longer feel bad about (and you shouldn't either)

Let's face it: Irish guilt didn't appear out of nowhere. We were raised in a soup of Catholicism, politeness, and fear of what the neighbours might think.

Bernard O'Shea: "Life is hard enough without feeling bad for not attending a neighbour’s third cousin’s child’s christening when you’re hung over."

Historically, guilt was weaponised as a tool of moral control. The Church didn’t need CCTV when you had a conscience like a smoke alarm. And if it wasn’t the priest, it was the teacher, the parent, the older cousin who told you you’d be struck down for not sharing your crisps. 

Guilt was often dressed up as good manners. You didn’t want to eat the last biscuit? ‘Ah, go on, don’t be ignorant.’

Irish people are Olympic-level feelers of guilt. We inherited it, breathing it in at baptisms and passing it around like mass leaflets. And, for years, I was a top-tier competitor.

I felt guilty for everything — saying no, wanting a bit of peace, enjoying myself when others were miserable, not replying to a text the second it landed.

But I turned 45 and something shifted. It could be because I can no longer remember my email password without looking it up. Perhaps it’s because the older I get, the more I realise guilt has been squatting in my brain like a long-term house guest who eats all the biscuits and never says thank you.

So I’ve started shedding some of it. Not all of it. Some guilt is still healthy.

Life is hard enough without feeling bad for not attending a neighbour’s third cousin’s child’s christening when you’re hung over.

Neuroscientists say guilt activates the anterior cingulate cortex (one of my top five brain parts) and the prefrontal cortex (top 10) — areas linked with moral reasoning and emotional regulation. In small doses, guilt helps us stay socially connected and aware. But chronic guilt? It’s corrosive.

Studies show that guilt tripping (especially the kind you give yourself) weakens long-term motivation. People who forgive themselves for small things are more likely to bounce back and be productive (I forgive myself at least 20 to 30 times daily). 

A 2016 study from the University of California even found that people with high guilt sensitivity struggle more with sleep. They replay conversations at night like a poorly edited podcast. So if you’ve ever lain in bed thinking, ‘I should’ve gone to that wake,’ you’re not alone — but you might be wrecked. However, here are five guilt-heavy situations I’ve stopped feeling bad about

1. Not replying immediately

Try this: Set aside 15 minutes a day for messages. Don’t be on high alert for every ping. If someone really needs you, they’ll ring — and even then, you can let it go to voicemail if you’re mid-slice of toast (if they ring the land-line, though, you should probably answer).

The world won’t implode if you reply when your head is clear, your hands are free, and you’re not trying to remember your Revolut pin. You are not a call centre. You are a human being with things to do and tea to drink.

2. Celebrating a cancelled plan

Give yourself a moment of joy. Do a little lap around the living room, like you’ve won an All-Ireland final of introversion. Say aloud: ‘I have the gift of unexpected time.’ That gift can be spent any way you like: Flopped on the couch, going for a solo walk, or staring out the window at your favourite shrub. 

You don’t owe anyone that evening. You’re not rude for loving your own company. You’re just finally listening to what your brain needs: Nothing.

3. Saying no without inventing a fictional tragedy

Try this script: ‘Ah, no, I won’t make that one, but thanks for thinking of me.’ Then shut up. 

Do not follow it with a fake funeral, a mysterious illness, or the words, ‘I wish I could, but...’ No. You do not need a death certificate to opt out of lunch. 

We’ve been trained to believe we must earn rest or escape with drama. But a simple, polite ‘No’ is a complete sentence. Say it with the confidence of someone who once got an NCT first time.

4. Not liking trendy self-care things

It’s OK not to love cold plunges, kombucha, or staring at a candle for 20 minutes while listening to a man whisper about your inner lion. Some people find peace in the sea. I find peace in a car parked outside SuperValu, eating crisps.

Find what works for you — be it a nap, a trashy show, shouting at the radio, or hiding in the utility room with a mug of tea. There is no spiritual hierarchy of wellness. You’re not less evolved just because you don’t own a yoga mat.

5. Lying about the wifi

No guilt. You’re a parent, not a hostage negotiator. Sometimes, the best peace is 20 minutes of pretend router maintenance. I have stood beside the box, sighing, pressing random buttons, whispering, ‘Ah, it must be the broadband line again,’ while secretly scrolling memes on my phone in the other room.

This is not deception. This is survival. You are creating the illusion of technical difficulty to protect your mental bandwidth.

So the next time that pang of guilt starts crawling up your spine because you didn’t go to a fundraiser bingo night for someone you’ve never met, pause.

And remind yourself: You’re not a bad person, you’re learning to be grand without guilt.