#self forgiveness

[warm-autumn-evenings]

changing every “i should have known better” to “i know better now”. i will not judge past versions of me through the lens of who i am now.

[thepeacefulgarden]

[safe-haven-safe-place]

[loveyourlovelysoul]

You won't always be able to make the best choice in every situation for many different reasons: just remind yourself that that's fine and try to not feel too guilty about it. You still tried your best, you decided following your guts (even if you were overwhelmed or stressed or anything -which usually doesn't help in taking the best decisions so if you can, avoid taking one at that time), and you did what felt best for yuo at that time with your best intentions. Forgive yourself, learn your lesson and try again.

[desultory-suggestions]

You can outgrow that behaviors from your past that you regret. You can change, you can go to therapy, work on yourself, and surround yourself with people who choose kindness and compassion. You can learn to express yourself through new means, instead of yelling or physical violence, you can learn to respond with thoughtful words and action. You are allowed to have space to change and become a new person. Don’t let your shame hold you back.

[mrs-trophy-wife]

Blame no one, not even yourself, just change your diet. The diet is simply words, all within you.

—Neville Goddard

[berrybanana-arts]

“It was not your fault that he betrayed you.

Even if there were signs, even if you think you should’ve ‘known better’, none of that gave him the right to hurt you as he did.

I don’t blame my great nephew for trusting Bill who he knew was an enemy… Nor my great niece who trusted Bill when he disguised himself as an old friend. So of course I can’t unfairly blame you.

You are not to blame for his choices. He chose to be cruel to you. It was not your fault.

It will get worse before it gets better but I promise you- you’ll come out the other side and be so much happier for it. In thirty years, I know you’ll be the happiest you’ve ever been in your whole life.

You trust no one, I know, but- trust me. Stick it out. It’s going to be okay in the end.”

Ford’s past self needs a hug and Ford needs to forgive himself for his past mistakes and move on. Little bit more hurt/comfort for Forduary!

[holistichealingg]

[felineandhustle]

[girlwithlandscape]

“I often find myself writing to the terrified versions of myself. And maybe all I really want to say—if anything at all—is that you (whoever you are) are not alone. Maybe because this is what some of the most important writers in my life have been telling me over and over again in their myriad and unique ways. I go back to the boy I once was, the boy who hid in the library during recess to read a book covered in his lap so no one will know he has betrayed ‘fun’ for secrets. So no one will know he loves words. Because lovers of words were thought to be weak and effeminate. And effeminate boys were strange and strange things don’t last very long in this world. So I read to find my own hand in the pages of books. In the future, I want to keep holding books. To touch myself on each page, saying ‘I am here. I am here. I am here.’ ”

— Ocean Vuong

[vizthedatum]

One day I will forgive myself for self-abandoning so hard just because I wanted to be loved

[thepeacefulgarden]

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

[brotherlocust]

Alright, ya gremlins: it's finally here.

After writing and rewriting this essay five or six times over the last month and a half, I've finally settled on a version I think I like — meaning I think I've finally figured out how to articulate what's been on my mind.

Katsuki Bakugou holds a very specific place in my heart. I reckon writing this long ass essay in earnest may be considered pretty "cringe" by some standards, but honestly, I found it very cathartic. Maybe I need to touch grass. Or maybe, fiction can sometimes just be another tool we use to understand ourselves.

Which is to say: looking at angry kids like Katsuki feels a lot like looking at myself.

[embraceyouropacities]

“You fill yourself with the gift of time—the ticking of moments, the time you spent, the fact that you were always called a late bloomer. What is late? You are always on time.”

— Brennan Lee Mulligan, “Dimension 20: The Seven”

[unwelcome-ozian]