Folded Inward

Some nights, I get caught in my head about all the things I’ve done wrong in my life. The moments I wish I could take back. The ways I’ve reacted that didn’t feel like me, or at least, not the version of me I want to be. The words that landed wrong, the looks that hurt someone’s feelings, the tone that carried more sharpness than care.

When I think about those moments, it’s hard not to feel like a bad person. There’s a weight that comes with shame, whispering reminders of every time my emotions took the wheel instead of my better judgment. Part of me wants to talk about that, to write it out and let it breathe. Another part of me wants to bury it deep and pretend it never existed.

I’ve typed and erased these words longer than it’ll take to read them. Because admitting that I’ve hurt people, even unintentionally, feels like standing under a light that’s a little too bright.

Sometimes I imagine how people must see me. How kindness might come from caution rather than care, how patience might be someone’s way of avoiding a future reaction. That thought hurts, mostly because I know I’ve given reasons for it.

I keep much of my writing vague, not because I’m hiding the truth, but because I want to protect the privacy of those I write about. The truth is, there isn’t just one person in these reflections, there are several.

It’s hard to move on from that. Hard to hold space for both the harm I’ve caused and the hope that I can still be someone good.

There’s something about accountability being dodged that sets something off in me. It makes my whole body flood with anger, grief, defensiveness, all at once. I think part of that comes from how much I value honesty and repair, but I also know that in those moments, I lose sight of my own regulation. I act before I pause. I react before I understand.

I want to get better at creating distance between what I’m feeling and what I’m doing. Not just when it comes to accountability, but in all the moments where my emotions take the wheel.

I think I’m still trying to figure out where the line is…between self-compassion and knowing better. Between giving myself grace and holding myself accountable. I don’t have that balance yet, but I’m trying to find it.