I’m deeply familiar with those moments where I can’t help but feel that I was, and perhaps still am, the problem. It’s as if a relentless inner critic refuses to let me forget past mistakes. One memory that haunts me is a time when my actions caused irreparable harm to someone I deeply cared about. The guilt and self-hatred that enveloped me in that moment were almost suffocating. I despised myself for the choices I had made and the pain I had inflicted. I couldn’t escape the crushing weight of knowing that I was unquestionably to blame. It’s these moments that make me question my worth and struggle to forgive myself. I’ve learned that self-forgiveness is a journey, and I'm working on being kinder to myself. These painful experiences have been a catalyst for self-improvement and an ongoing commitment to becoming a better, more empathetic person, but it’s a difficult path, and I still wrestle with self-hatred at times.