The Shame of Getting It Wrong

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There are moments when I look back at something I said or did and feel the sting of shame.

Maybe I came on too strong. Maybe I misread someone. Maybe I chased, performed, or over-explained myself trying to hold on to something that wasn’t real.

And the voice creeps in:

“How could you not see it?
How embarrassing.
You should’ve known better.”

But that version of me—who got it wrong—was trying. He was doing the best he could with what he knew at the time. He was reaching for connection, for clarity, for safety.

And I’ve decided… I’m not going to abandon him.

He doesn’t need more criticism. He needs kindness.

Getting it wrong is part of how I got here. It’s not proof that I’m broken—it’s proof that I’m brave enough to try.

So when shame rises, I try to meet it with grace. I say:

“Yeah… that was messy. And I love you anyway.”

That’s the kind of growth I trust now.