Through the Fog

Tag: self-forgiveness

  • Get What I Deserve

    I used to think

    getting what I deserve

    meant punishment.

    Like life was keeping score

    in some quiet ledger—

    every mistake inked in permanent,

    every failure waiting

    to be returned to me

    with interest.

    So I braced for it.

    For the fall.

    For the loss.

    For the moment

    everything I touched

    would finally reflect back

    what I believed about myself.

    Not enough.

    Too much.

    Hard to hold.

    Easy to leave.

    I called that honesty.

    I called that accountability.

    But it was just

    familiar cruelty

    wearing my voice.

    Because the truth is—

    I’ve already paid

    for things I didn’t deserve.

    Stayed too long

    where I was shrinking.

    Apologized

    for taking up space.

    Carried weight

    that was never mine.

    And still,

    some part of me

    thought balance meant

    more suffering.

    Like peace

    had to be earned

    through exhaustion.

    But maybe

    getting what I deserve

    isn’t about pain at all.

    Maybe it looks like

    rest without guilt.

    Love without proving.

    Being met

    without begging to be understood.

    Maybe it’s waking up

    and not immediately

    putting myself on trial.

    Maybe it’s this—

    learning that I am not a debt

    waiting to be collected.

    And for the first time,

    when I say

    “I want what I deserve,”

    I don’t mean consequences.

    I mean

    something gentle

    finally staying.

  • Why Is It So Easy to Fuck Up?

    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.