Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, I keep finding new ways to mess things up.
Not on purpose. I don’t wake up thinking, let’s ruin something today.
It just happens.
A word lands wrong.
A feeling shows up before I can stop it.
A moment where pain speaks faster than logic ever could.
Why is it so easy to fuck up
and so hard to forgive yourself?
Maybe it’s because deep down, I expect perfection — from me, from everyone.
Like if I get it right this time, I’ll finally be enough.
But life doesn’t work like that.
Healing doesn’t either.
It’s two steps forward, three back,
and a quiet voice in between saying, try again tomorrow.
The truth is, we’re all just doing the best we can with what we know.
Sometimes trauma speaks louder than intention.
Sometimes old versions of us resurface when we’re tired and scared
and just trying to make it through the day.
But fucking up doesn’t mean we’re broken beyond repair.
It means we’re human —
still learning,
still fumbling,
still reaching for something better.
So yeah, it’s easy to fuck up.
But it’s also easy — if you let it be —
to start over.
Through the Fog 