𝐹 :
I look at myself and I don’t see the person I wanted to become. I see every mistake, every failure, every moment where I wasn’t enough. I carry my regrets like they are a part of my identity, like every wrong choice has become another reason to hate the person staring back at me.
I blame myself for everything. For the times I stayed silent when I should have spoken, for the times I gave up when I should have fought, for every dream I couldn’t reach and every expectation I couldn’t fulfill. My mind keeps a record of everything I did wrong, but somehow forgets every time I tried, every battle I survived, every moment when I kept going even when I felt like I couldn’t.
I feel like I disappointed everyone, including myself. I wanted to become someone people could be proud of, someone who could finally say “I made it,” but instead I feel trapped with the memory of everything I could have been. Sometimes it feels like I am carrying a version of myself that I can never become, and every day I compare myself to that impossible person.
The cruelest thing is that I don’t need anyone else to hurt me anymore. My own thoughts know exactly where it hurts. They remind me of every insecurity, every fear, every moment I wished I was different. They make me feel like I am losing a battle against a person I cannot escape from myself.
But somewhere beneath all that anger and disappointment, there is still a small part of me that wishes I could stop fighting myself. A part of me that wants to believe that I am more than my mistakes, more than my past, and more than the things I failed to become.
2026-07-09 14:26:13