Ya know what? I am not sorry for how I’ve lived my life. There! I said it!

Let’s get that out of the way early. I’m done sugarcoating it. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve misread the room. I’ve said the wrong thing, at the wrong time, with the wrong tone more than once. Then stood in the echo chamber of my own mind, torturing myself with the replay.  Ugh…Have  you ever done this?  But here’s the thing: I own it. I clean it up. I do the work.

So why do I still stress in the background about what other people think?

I’ve been chewing on this for a while (and by “chewing,” I mean gnawing on it like it’s the last piece of beef jerky on a deserted island). And all I’ve really come up with is I’m human. It’s what we do. Or at least, it’s what I do.  It seems almost too simple.

Maybe this isn’t your thing. Maybe you don’t spiral after conflict or stew in a stew of second-guessing. Maybe your flavor of internal chaos looks more like hiding out, imposter syndrome, people-pleasing, or perfectionism. I don’t know your exact brand of self-sabotage but I’m willing to bet you’ve got something too!

But back to me for a second, shall we…

I genuinely try to live my life as a decent human being. I aim to help others, to lift people up, to be kind. I don’t always get it right. When I screw up and I will tell you right now that I for sure do…I take full responsibility. I acknowledge it. I apologize when necessary. I check in with whoever was affected and ask, “What can I do to make this right?”

Sounds healthy, right?  Should be done and over with!

But here’s the twist: I still beat myself up about it. I wear it. I wear my guilt and shame like a brand-new pair of stiff shoes. You can see them, they don’t fit right, and they make me walk funny. They blister my toes and heels. They slow me down. And yet, I keep putting them on. A glutton for punishment, I guess!

That’s when it hit me: I’ve internalized the idea that doing something wrong = being wrong. And even when I’ve made amends, some part of me latches onto the belief that I’m not a good person. It’s like this weird addiction to guilt.

“Hey, you messed up! Let’s hold onto that forever! It will be fun!”  NOT!!!

Why is that?

Because there’s a part of me that needs proof that I’m flawed, that I’m not enough, that I should stay small and quiet and not take up too much space. I can see that I have lived with this my entire life! And what better proof than a mistake I’ve already cleaned up but can still punish myself for?  Welcome to the Struggle Party—table for one.

And here’s where it gets serious: all this internalizing? This energy-sapping shame spiral? It doesn’t just stay in my mind. It shows up in my body. It morphs into stress, inflammation, and disease. I’m not just speaking metaphorically. I’m speaking from experience. Chronic guilt wears down the body like it wears down the soul.

The truth is we are made up of energy. Every thought, every feeling, every moment we give away to regret or fear, it takes a toll. And when I give my energy over to the past or to someone else’s opinion, I’m draining the reserves I need to be well, to heal, to thrive.

So, here’s the hard truth: knowing all this, hasn’t magically stopped me from doing it. But here’s the shift I see now. I name it when it’s happening. I can call out the voice in my head that says, “You’re bad” and respond with, “No, I’m just human. And I’m still growing.”  And doing that repeatedly because sometimes I don’t hear myself the first time.

Also, this isn’t a story about having it all figured out. It’s a story about catching myself mid-shame-spiral and saying, not today Tammy. It’s about reclaiming my energy, one messy moment at a time. And it’s about choosing to believe on the good days and the garbage days that I don’t need to apologize for being human.

So yeah, I’m not sorry. Not anymore.
And maybe, just maybe, you don’t need to be either.

Much love,

Tammy