Let’s just put this out there from the start: you’re going to mess up. You’ve already done it, actually. Probably this morning. Maybe just now when you snapped at your kid, partner, or that person who dared to walk too slowly in front of you while you were already late and hangry.
But here’s the twist no one handed us in school, you’re allowed to forgive yourself.
Let me say that again for the people in the back clutching a decade’s worth of guilt like it’s a designer handbag: you are allowed to forgive yourself.
Mindfulness Meets Mayhem
The practice of mindfulness often paints this serene picture of peaceful breathwork, gentle thoughts and floaty yoga music playing in the background. But true mindfulness? It's grittier than that. It’s the uncomfortable pause between realising you’ve just said something awful and choosing not to spiral into self-loathing.
Mindfulness isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being aware. Aware of how you’re showing up. Aware of the voice in your head that sometimes sounds like your critical mum, disappointed teacher, or that ex who should’ve just stayed blocked.
Mindfulness gives you space to say:
“I was in the wrong. But I’m learning. And I can do better next time.”
And that, my friend, is where forgiveness lives.
Journal Prompt:
When was the last time you noticed yourself spiralling after making a mistake?
What would it feel like to pause and respond with self-kindness instead?
Clean the Mirror, Not Just the Mess
Think about the last time you cleaned your bathroom mirror (go on, be honest). Did you realise how foggy it had become? We often don’t notice until it’s crystal clear again.
That’s what self-forgiveness is like.
We carry around guilt, shame, and regret like a heavy backpack, not realising how much it’s clouding our view. But when we choose to really see ourselves with compassion, not just the mess we made we start to shift.
Forgive yourself:
- For the times you disappointed yourself. Like when you said you’d go for a walk every day but binged "Bridgerton" with a tub of ice cream instead. Again.
- For the times you were in the wrong. Maybe you ghosted a friend, took a cheap shot in an argument, or acted out of jealousy. It doesn’t make you evil, it makes you human. A slightly spicy one, maybe, but human nonetheless.
- For the times you weren’t enough. Or more accurately, felt like you weren’t enough. Because you were doing your best with what you had at the time. And no one is on top form when they’re burned out, broken-hearted, or bloated.
- For the things you said out of anger. We’ve all had those moments, red in the face, voice louder than we meant, and words sharper than intended.
BREATHE. APOLOGISE. LEARN. FORGIVE. GROW.
Journal Prompt:
Which of these feel most relevant to you right now?
Can you write a letter to yourself offering forgiveness for just one of them?
You Were the Villain in Someone’s Story
Here’s a spicy truth: You were someone’s plot twist. The one they vented about over coffee, cried over, or unfollowed quietly at 2 a.m.
Ouch.
But also… okay?
Because you’ve had villains in your story too. People who left you raw, confused, or feeling unlovable. Yet you’ve healed (or are healing) from that. And the best part? You’ve probably forgiven some of them without them even asking.
So why not extend the same grace to yourself?
Forgive yourself:
- For the past mistakes you made. Even the big ones. The ones that make your stomach flip when you remember them at 3:07 a.m. You're not that same person anymore. You evolved, didn’t you?
- For the times you could have been more empathetic. Like when you dismissed someone’s feelings because you were too busy nursing your own wounds. Or when you just couldn’t deal with anyone’s drama because yours was already on fire.
- For the times you realised you were the toxic one. Yes, that stings. Maybe you were clingy, emotionally distant, manipulative, flaky — or a whole cocktail of chaos. But realising it? That’s progress. That’s growth. That’s where healing starts.
- For the lessons you learnt a little too late. Maybe you finally understood boundaries... after bulldozing through someone else's. Maybe you realised who truly loved you... after pushing them away. It’s okay. You’re learning in real time.
Journal Prompt:
Can you write about a time you were the one who hurt someone else?
How would you speak to yourself if you were your best friend in that moment?
Blah Blah Blah and All That Jazz
Let’s be honest. We’ve all sat through advice that sounds like it was lifted straight from a Pinterest quote board.
- “Put it down. You're not meant to carry all that.”
- “Time heals all wounds.”
- “Everything happens for a reason.”
Blah blah blah.
Sometimes, those platitudes feel like emotional beige wallpaper. What we really need is permission to feel it all: the guilt, the shame, the ugh, and still get up tomorrow and try again.
And AGAIN.
And AGAIN.
So instead of trying to sound spiritually polished, try this on for size:
- “Surrender the steering wheel, your overthinking is not a licensed driver.”
Or choose whichever reminder makes you giggle and breathe deeper:
- “Drop it like it’s hot — and then breathe.”
- “Release the drama, return to calm-a.”
- “Let go and trust the cosmic sat-nav.”
- “Put it down. You're not meant to carry all that.”
Because sometimes you just need a reminder that you’re not the entire emergency response team for your own emotions. You’re allowed to rest, laugh, and not have all the answers right now.
Journal Prompt:
Which of these mantras speaks to you the most?
Write it at the top of a fresh page and free-write for 10 minutes underneath.
Stand Up For Yourself (Even to Yourself)
Another one for the forgiveness pile:
- Forgive yourself for the times you didn’t stand up for yourself.
- You stayed quiet when someone overstepped.
- You let things slide because rocking the boat felt scary.
- You laughed it off when it actually hurt like hell.
- You let someone else be comfortable while you shrunk yourself.
But you're learning now, aren’t you?
You're remembering that your voice matters. Your boundaries matter. And that even if you spent a decade being a people-pleasing doormat, you’re allowed to change your mind and roll that mat up. (Preferably before someone else wipes their muddy boots on it.)
Journal Prompt:
Where have you remained silent out of fear or habit?
What would it look like to speak up now, even just to yourself?
Janet and the Lasagne Meltdown
My friend Janet once sobbed over a lasagne. I’m not even kidding.
She’d promised her partner she’d cook for his mum’s visit. She’d had a terrible week; work stress, migraines, the full shebang, but instead of saying “I can’t”, she pushed through.
The lasagne burnt. She broke down.
Not because of the pasta, but because she was drowning in years of feeling like she wasn’t allowed to say no, take a break, or disappoint anyone. And when I told her, “You need to forgive yourself for not being Superwoman,” she laughed through her snotty tears
and said, “I thought being enough meant never letting anyone down.”
That night, she ordered takeaway, served it on plates, and told her partner’s mum it was rustic Italian fusion. Iconic.
Journal Prompt:
Write about your own “burnt lasagne moment.”
What were you really carrying under the surface?
Kindness Isn’t Just for Others
If you spoke to your best friend the way you speak to yourself when you mess up, would you still be friends?
Be honest.
We are often the cruelest to ourselves. Holding ourselves hostage over past mistakes like we’re judge, jury, and executioner of our own lives.
Kindness starts at home. And “home” includes the thoughts in your own head.
Try this:
Next time you muck something up, pause and say:
“I didn’t handle that well. But I’m still worthy of love and grace.”
Say it again if you have to. Say it with your hand on your heart. Say it through tears. Just don’t say nothing.
Journal Prompt:
Write three kind things you would say to yourself right now, even if you don’t fully believe them yet.
In Conclusion: You Get to Move On
You, the beautiful soul that you are, are more than your worst moment.
More than the version of you that cringes in hindsight.
More than the anger, the silence, the sarcasm, or the people you hurt.
You are not broken. You are becoming.
So today, I invite you to forgive yourself:
- For the lasagnes burnt
- For the texts unsent
- For the boundaries blurred
- For the apologies delayed
- For the growth that took longer than you planned
You are a walking miracle of second chances, and I, for one, am bloody proud of you.
Now go be soft with yourself. Hug the inner you like they’ve just had a right shitty day. Because chances are, they have.
