On Being A Piece of Sh*t

I’ve done many things I’m not proud of.

Things that still haunt me.

Things I wouldn't want my daughter to ever know about.

Things I try not to think about late at night — but they always find a way back in.

For one: I’m sitting alone in this house because I did something stupid.

I cheated on the mother of my child.

That decision — my decision — shattered something sacred.

Not just the relationship.

Not just the trust.

It fractured my own sense of who I thought I was.

I really thought I was better.

I could dress it up.

I could say I was confused,

I was broken,

I was under pressure.

But that’s just putting sugar on shit.

The truth is, I made a selfish choice.

One I’ll always carry.

And for a while, that became the only story I could tell myself.

But lately I’ve been sitting with a deeper question...

One that’s not as easy to answer:

Are we what we do?

Or are we who we become after?

Because if we’re only the sum of our worst actions…

Then none of us deserve a second chance.

None of us are redeemable.

None of us can ever grow.

But I don’t believe that.

I believe people can change.

I believe regret can be fertilizer.

I believe shame can be a mirror — if you’re brave enough to look into it without flinching.

I’m not writing this to clear my name.

I’m not asking for sympathy or forgiveness.

I’m writing this because I know someone reading this is carrying something they think disqualifies them from love, from success, from peace.

And I want you to hear this:

You are not the worst thing you've done.

You’re also not the best thing you've done.

You are what you choose to do now.

You are what you’re willing to face, own, and change.

We don’t get to rewrite the past.

But we do get to decide whether we keep repeating it.

If you're carrying something ugly — you're not alone.

Welcome to the human race.

Where there are no adults who have it all together.

-Adrian "Flawed" Moreno