You Are Not a Bad Person for the Ways You Tried to Kill Your Sadness

When we’re hurting, we don’t always know how to heal.

We just know we want the pain to stop.

So we reach for things.

Relationships.

Food.

Alcohol.

Shopping.

Work.

Attention.

Isolation.

Distraction.

Anything that gives us a few minutes of relief from what feels unbearable.

Sometimes those choices help us get through the day.

Sometimes they become destructive.

And years later, when we’re healthier and have more perspective, we can look back at the person we were and feel ashamed of the ways we coped.

Why did I do that?

Why did I stay?

Why did I need that?

Why couldn’t I just deal with what I was feeling?

But you’re looking at an earlier version of yourself with knowledge that version didn’t have yet.

You are not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.

You were a hurting person trying desperately to make the pain stop.


Prefer to listen? The Audio Blog version is available here.


SOMETIMES COPING IS JUST SURVIVAL IN DISGUISE

We don’t always recognize coping mechanisms while we’re using them.

At the time, they may simply feel like relief.

Something that makes the loneliness quieter.

Something that distracts us from the grief.

Something that makes us feel wanted.

Something that gives us somewhere to put all the feelings we don’t understand.

So we reach for it again.

And again.

That doesn’t mean every coping mechanism is healthy.

Some can hurt us.

Some can hurt other people.

Some can create consequences we’ll eventually have to face.

But understanding why you reached for something isn’t the same as excusing what happened.

Understanding helps you recognize what you were really trying to survive.


RELIEF AND HEALING ARE NOT THE SAME THING

When we’re hurting, we often search for relief before we understand healing.

Relief asks:

How can I stop feeling this right now?

Healing asks:

What is this pain trying to tell me?

Those questions can lead us in very different directions.

Relief can temporarily numb what hurts.

Healing asks us to understand it.

Feel it.

Process it.

And eventually move through it.

There is no shame in having reached for relief when you didn’t yet know how to heal.

But eventually, relief can no longer do the work that healing requires.


SADNESS CAN MAKE TEMPORARY THINGS FEEL LIKE ANSWERS

When something hurts deeply enough, almost anything that makes it hurt less can begin to look like a solution.

Attention can feel like love.

Distraction can feel like peace.

Numbing can feel like healing.

Being needed can feel like being valued.

A relationship can feel like rescue.

Isolation can feel like protection.

For a while, those things may even work.

That’s what makes unhealthy coping mechanisms so complicated.

They often help before they hurt.

Sometimes we don’t recognize the difference until much later.

That’s part of growing.


YOU DIDN’T HAVE THE TOOLS YOU HAVE NOW

It’s easy to look backward and imagine you should have known better.

But healing gives us tools we didn’t always possess.

Boundaries.

Self-awareness.

Perspective.

Emotional regulation.

The ability to recognize patterns.

The courage to ask for help.

You cannot expect a past version of yourself to use tools you hadn’t learned how to use yet.

You can wish you’d made different choices.

You can take responsibility for them.

You can repair what needs repairing.

But you don’t have to hate yourself for not knowing then what you know now.


SHAME WON’T HEAL WHAT SADNESS CREATED

Shame has a way of convincing us that our worst choices reveal our truest selves.

They don’t.

A decision is something you made.

A mistake is something you made.

A coping mechanism is something you used.

None of those things have to become who you are.

If you’ve grown enough to look back and recognize that something wasn’t healthy, that awareness matters.

It means you can see what you couldn’t see before.

Don’t use your growth as another reason to punish yourself.

Let it become evidence that you’ve changed.


UNDERSTANDING YOURSELF IS NOT MAKING EXCUSES

Sometimes we’re afraid to show compassion toward our past selves because we think it lets us off the hook.

It doesn’t.

You can understand why you behaved a certain way and still acknowledge the consequences.

You can say:

I was hurting.

And…

I hurt someone.

I didn’t know how to cope.

And…

I wish I had handled it differently.

I understand why I made that choice.

And…

I would make a different choice today.

Two truths can exist at the same time.

Accountability helps us grow.

Compassion allows us to grow without destroying ourselves along the way.


SOMETIMES WE TRY TO FILL WHAT ACTUALLY NEEDS TO BE FELT

There are some empty spaces we cannot fill.

We have to feel them.

Grief needs to be grieved.

Loneliness needs to be understood.

Loss needs to be acknowledged.

Pain needs somewhere safe to exist.

We can spend years pouring things into an emotional hole, hoping something will finally make us feel whole.

But healing often begins when we stop asking what we can put into the space and start asking why the space is there.

Sometimes the emptiness isn’t asking to be filled.

It’s asking to be heard.


YOU DON’T HAVE TO KEEP PUNISHING THE PERSON YOU USED TO BE

There is a strange cruelty in healing that we don’t talk about enough.

We become healthier…

And then use that health to judge the person we were when we weren’t.

We look backward with clarity and expect our former selves to have possessed it too.

But they didn’t.

They were living the experience you now have the privilege of understanding in hindsight.

That doesn’t mean everything they did was right.

It means they deserve context.

You can hold your past self accountable without putting them on trial for the rest of your life.


FORGIVE THE PERSON WHO WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE PAIN STOP

Think about who you were during one of your hardest seasons.

Not from where you stand today.

From where you stood then.

What did you know?

What hadn’t you learned yet?

What were you afraid of?

What were you desperately trying not to feel?

That person doesn’t need another judge.

They’ve probably had enough of those.

They need understanding.

They need forgiveness.

They need you to recognize that somehow, imperfectly, they kept going long enough for you to become who you are today.


YOU CAN LEARN A NEW WAY TO CARE FOR YOURSELF

Maybe you once tried to kill your sadness with relationships.

Work.

Food.

Alcohol.

Shopping.

Attention.

Isolation.

Or anything else that offered temporary escape.

You don’t have to be ashamed that something once helped you survive.

But you also don’t have to keep using a survival strategy after you’ve learned a healthier way to live.

Awareness gives you a choice.

And every healthier choice becomes another way of telling yourself:

I know how to care for you differently now.

You are not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.

You were hurting.

You were learning.

You were trying to get through something with whatever tools you had at the time.

Now you know more.

Now you can choose differently.

And perhaps one of the greatest signs of healing is being able to look back at the person you once were without shame and say:

I understand why you did what you did.

But we don’t have to survive that way anymore.


SLAY REFLECTION

S — See Yourself With Compassion
What past behavior have you been judging without considering what you were going through at the time?

L — Look Beneath the Behavior
What sadness, pain, loneliness, or fear were you actually trying to escape?

A — Accept What You’ve Learned
What do you understand about yourself today that you couldn’t understand during that difficult season?

Y — Your Next Step
What healthier way can you care for yourself the next time you feel the urge to escape what you’re feeling?


CALL TO ACTION: JOIN THE CONVERSATION

I’d love to hear from you.

What have you learned to give yourself today that you once searched for somewhere else?

Share your story in the comments. Your experience may help someone else understand that they don’t have to be ashamed of the person they were while they were trying to survive.

And if you know someone who is struggling to forgive a past version of themselves, send this to them.

Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Wrong Can Lead Us to Right

We don’t like to admit it, but most of us learn far more from what didn’t work than from what did.

From the wrong turns.
The misjudgments.
The relationships that fell apart.
The choices we wish we could redo.

And yet, we spend so much time shaming ourselves for getting it “wrong” that we miss the quiet truth unfolding beneath it:

Wrong can lead us to right.

Not because the wrong was meant to hurt us—but because it showed us what alignment is not, which is often the only way we learn what alignment is.


Why We’re Taught to Fear Being Wrong

From an early age, we’re conditioned to believe that being wrong means failing.

Wrong answers are penalized.
Wrong choices are judged.
Wrong paths are labeled mistakes.

So when something doesn’t work out, our instinct is to blame ourselves instead of listening to the lesson.

But growth doesn’t happen in perfection.
It happens in contrast.

You don’t learn what peace feels like until you’ve lived without it.
You don’t learn your worth until you’ve accepted less.
You don’t learn alignment until you’ve tried to force what never fit.

Wrong isn’t the enemy—it’s information.


The Choices That Didn’t Work Still Worked for You

Think about it honestly.

That job that drained you.
That relationship you stayed in too long.
That version of yourself you outgrew.

None of it was wasted.

Each experience clarified something essential:

  • What you won’t tolerate again
  • What you need to feel safe and whole
  • What values matter more than comfort
  • What parts of yourself you abandoned—and why

Wrong choices don’t erase progress.
They refine it.

And often, the clarity you have now wouldn’t exist without the confusion you walked through then.


Wrong Often Means You Were Brave Enough to Try

Here’s something we don’t say often enough:

You can’t get it wrong if you never risk anything.

Wrong means you showed up.
Wrong means you chose movement over stagnation.
Wrong means you were willing to step forward instead of staying frozen.

Staying stuck can feel safer—but it teaches you nothing.

Growth comes from movement, even imperfect movement. And wisdom is built by experience, not avoidance.

So instead of asking, “Why did I mess this up?”
Try asking, “What did this teach me?”


When Wrong Breaks You Open

Some “wrong” experiences don’t just redirect us—they crack us open.

They expose where we were living out of fear.
They reveal patterns we didn’t want to see.
They force us to confront truths we were avoiding.

Those moments are painful—but they’re also catalytic.

They end pretending.
They demand honesty.
They strip away illusions.

And once that happens, the right path becomes harder to ignore.


Right Rarely Looks the Way We Expected

Here’s the part no one prepares you for:

The right path doesn’t always look like success at first.

Sometimes it looks like loss.
Like walking away.
Like starting over.
Like being misunderstood.

Right often feels quieter than wrong. Less dramatic. Less validating. But it feels true.

Right brings peace instead of chaos.
Clarity instead of confusion.
Alignment instead of performance.

If you’ve lived in wrong long enough, right can feel unfamiliar—even uncomfortable.

That doesn’t mean turn back.
It means you’re changing.


You Are Not Behind—You Are Becoming

If you’re looking back at your past with regret, hear this:

You are not behind.
You are not late.
You are not broken.

You were learning.

The version of you standing here now—with boundaries, discernment, and self-awareness—could not exist without the version who tried, hoped, trusted, and learned the hard way.

Wrong doesn’t delay us.
Often, it prepares us.


Trust the Path Even When It Loops

Growth isn’t linear.

Sometimes lessons repeat.
Sometimes you circle back.
Sometimes you recognize the red flag sooner—and that is progress.

Wrong doesn’t mean you failed the lesson.
It often means you’re closer to mastering it.

And one day, you realize the things that once felt like detours were quietly guiding you exactly where you needed to go.


SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: What past “wrong” choice taught you something essential about yourself?
L: Where are you still shaming yourself instead of honoring what you learned?
A: What clarity do you have now because of something that didn’t work out?
Y: How might your life shift if you trusted that wrong can still lead you right?


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What felt wrong at the time but ultimately led you somewhere right?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone stuck in regret over past choices, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

The Oops Factor

Growing up, I never left any room for mistakes. I expected myself to do everything perfectly—and when I didn’t, I beat myself up. I carried these unrealistic expectations with me through childhood, my teenage years, and well into adulthood, never giving myself permission to simply be human. The result? A constant negative narrative playing on loop in my head, convincing me I wasn’t good enough. Every mistake felt like proof of failure, which I used as an excuse to abandon self-care, spiral into self-doubt, and reinforce the lie that I could never get better.

I see now that none of that thinking was true. I made it feel true by keeping my struggles to myself and believing the cruelest voices in my mind. I nearly rode that train all the way into the station—but thankfully, I got off before the final stop.

The truth is: our mistakes are where we learn the most. They shape our character. They build the resilience we need to accomplish the things that really matter. No one is meant to get it right every time. The growth is in the slip-ups. That’s why we need to embrace what I call the “Oops Factor.”


What Perfectionism Really Cost Me

Expecting myself to be perfect—even when I knew better—set me up to fail. I’d aim impossibly high and, when I missed the mark (which was inevitable), I’d use that as ammunition to tear myself down. Even when I succeeded, I picked apart the outcome. I never gave myself permission to feel proud. That made relationships harder too. I lived in fear that people would see me for the fraud I thought I was.

Eventually, I reached a breaking point and asked for help. In that process, I learned something life-changing: mistakes are a sign that I’m trying. They mean I’m pushing myself. And even when things don’t work out the way I hoped, there’s always a lesson or a growth opportunity—often the real reason I was on that path in the first place.

Over time, I’ve learned to trust that I’m exactly where I need to be. My job is to take the next right step. I can’t control the outcome—just the intention behind the action. And when I show up with that mindset? It’s always a win. Trying is the victory. There’s always something to gain.


Make Room for the Oops

We’re all allowed to make mistakes. In fact, we should be making them. That’s how we grow.

Start leaving space for the Oops Factor in your life. When something doesn’t go as planned, look for the lesson—or simply laugh it off. Don’t let the fear of messing up keep you from taking risks or being yourself. Let go of the pressure to be perfect and redefine what success looks like. Maybe, just maybe, being exactly who you are today is enough.

Mistakes don’t define you. But how you respond to them just might.

SLAY on!


SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you expect yourself to be perfect?
  • How do you usually react when you make a mistake?
  • Does that response help you—or harm you?
  • What’s one belief about mistakes that you’re ready to let go of?
  • What’s one thing you’ve learned from a recent oops moment that helped you grow?

Give yourself permission to stumble. Learn, laugh, and get back up stronger.


Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you can show yourself more grace when you make a mistake?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s been stuck in a shame spiral, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a little reminder that it’s okay to mess up.