The Grace We Give Ourselves

I met a friend today. A friend who had carved time out of the chaos of adult life just to sit across the table for a bit. It has been over 6 months since we last met. Things have changed dramatically for both of us. Strange circumstances, some unspoken and unnecessary losses, some necessary pruning.

We’ve known each other for over 13 years now. Long enough to have seen each other through versions we have both outgrown. She’s been with me through my darker days, the ones I’d rather not revisit, and I’d like to think I’ve been with her through hers. We’ve also shared some incredibly good moments together that felt almost undeserved. And we’ve had our share of arguments and days where things didn’t quite land the way they should. 

But here’s the thing. Through it all, in every version of this story..in every nook of memory…the fact that I could slip up and be the reason for some of her pain… never struck me. Until she mentioned something I’d casually told her years ago after a fight we’d had. 

Now to give some context, she’s a few years older than me and continues to remain someone I look up to greatly. 

But that day, as we walked back, I’d said something that stung her. In all sarcastic glory. The fact that she remembered the punchy line I’d delivered..,word for word, almost 12 years later, made me cringe in HD. She laughed about it today and made a joke about how she’d not seen that savage side of me in a while, and I desperately tried to pin it on my younger self. As if that person were a disgruntled employee who had since been fired. 

It got me thinking. I’ve always inherently thought of myself as a “good” person. As someone who WILLINGLY does not intend to hurt anyone. As someone whose EQ is off the charts. Someone who believes they’re doing okay at this whole ‘being a decent person’ thing. 

But what she said made me wonder if what I thought about myself was far from the truth. Had I been editing my version of events a bit too generously? 

Another really good friend of mine, who I’ve spent a major portion of the last decade with, has also made similar comments. In her words, what I say during a fight ‘cuts deep.’ Which is bizarre because in my head, I'm not picking up a knife. I’m just talking. Making a point. Maybe landing it a little TOO well. Like a surgeon who ‘thinks’ they are being precise, until someone else is left carrying a scar. 

Perhaps that is the thing. 

In our own stories, we often perceive ourselves as thoughtful, misunderstood, and fundamentally “good.”

Every harsh word we’ve uttered comes with context, intention, backstory, and a full courtroom defense. 

But when someone else says something sharp? Clean verdict. Guilty. No appeal. 

So after a dramatic session of overthinking, here’s the conclusion:

We give ourselves footnotes. 

We give others headlines. 

You CAN be a “good person” and still be a villain in someone else’s version of the story. Perhaps not entirely, but definitely in a moment that has stayed with them, longer than it has stayed with you. 

So, what do I do next? Perhaps be willing to sit with the fact that I’ve hurt people in their versions of the story and not spring to defend myself like a lawyer on caffeine. 

I’m not sure what changes for me. Maybe I’ll just pause a little longer than I used to. Instead of focusing on trying to be a “good person” who gets it “right” all the time, maybe  I’ll just sit with it and acknowledge someone’s pain when I get it wrong. 

Because grace, the kind we generously hand to ourselves.. has a way of closing things we never really sat with.