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It Still Stings, But I Said It
Hey everyone, or… whoever happens to stumble across this. I’ve been meaning to write something real for a while, and I think tonight’s the night. It’s about something that happened a few months ago, and honestly, it still feels a little raw to talk about.
Basically, I messed up. Badly. It involved a friend, Liam, and a project we were working on together. I was stressed, feeling overwhelmed with other things, and I just… lashed out. I wasn’t constructive, I was dismissive of his ideas, and I said some pretty harsh things about the effort he had put in. Looking back, it was completely unfair and frankly, pretty mean.
The problem was, I immediately went into defense mode. My brain started spinning justifications: I was stressed! He should have known better! It wasn’t that bad… It was so easy to convince myself I wasn’t really at fault, that I was just… passionate. The truth, though, was I was being a jerk, and I knew it.
But apologizing felt… impossible. It wasn’t just admitting I was wrong, it felt like admitting I wasn’t the competent, always-on-top person I try to project. It felt like vulnerability, and I hate feeling vulnerable. I kept rehearsing apologies in my head, but they all sounded insincere, or like I was trying to minimize what I’d done. I was terrified of making things worse, of him being even more hurt, or of him just… not wanting to be friends anymore. So I just avoided him. Days turned into a week, then two. The silence was awful.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I called him, my hands shaking. I didn’t have a script. I just… started talking. I told him I was so sorry, that my stress was no excuse for how I’d treated him, and that I’d been wrong to dismiss his work. I admitted I was scared to admit I was wrong, and that I’d been avoiding him because of it. It wasn’t pretty. I stumbled over my words, and I definitely cried.
He was… quiet for a moment. Then he just said, “Thanks. I appreciate that.” It wasn’t a grand, dramatic forgiveness, but it was enough. We talked for a while after that, and things slowly started to get back to normal.
What changed? Honestly, a huge weight lifted. The anxiety of avoiding him, the guilt I was carrying… it all just dissipated. Our friendship feels stronger now, because we’ve navigated something difficult and come out on the other side.
I learned that courage isn’t about being fearless, it’s about doing the right thing despite being scared. And humility… it’s not about thinking less of yourself, it’s about being honest about your imperfections. It’s about recognizing that everyone messes up, and that sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is simply say, “I was wrong.” It still stings to think about, but I’m grateful I finally said it.