When we hurt someone else’s feelings, we’re usually willing to apologize. Usually. Because, to be honest, swallowing your pride and saying “sorry” doesn’t come easy.

But here’s a question I like to ask:

When was the last time you apologized to yourself?

Every time you insulted yourself, went against your principles, ignored your gut, or did something you knew you’d regret—you hurt yourself. And while we’re quick-ish to forgive others, we rarely extend the same mercy towards ourselves.

I’m not talking about hopping on a merry-go-round of guilt trips. I’m talking about recognizing the moments where you deserved better from you—and forgiving yourself for it.

So here are a few apologies you might owe the most important person in your life: you.

“I’m sorry I stayed where I wasn’t valued.”

It could have been a relationship, friendship, or job—any situation where you knew you deserved more or better, but you convinced yourself it was enough.

Sticking things out even when their bad might mean you’re loyal—but it can also mean you don’t value yourself enough, that you don’t feel you deserve better, or that you’re afraid of what would happen if you left.

You weren’t wrong for wanting more, but you were wrong for believing you had to settle.

“I’m sorry for being so mean to myself.”

If someone else said the things you’ve said to yourself, you’d probably defend yourself—or block them without thinking twice. So why is it okay when it’s coming from your own inner voice?

Self-criticism isn’t something you’re born with. You don’t just wake up one day, look in the mirror, and say, “Hey, you stupid jerk. You’re a total loser.” It’s learned. Maybe from a super critical parent. Maybe from a teacher who made you feel dumb.

But no matter how cruel someone else has been to you, odds are you’ve been worse to yourself. And that’s not good. There is no one in this world who should love you more fiercely or more consistently than you.

“I’m sorry I wasted time trying to prove myself to people who didn’t matter.”

All those sleepless nights, overthinking texts, bending over backwards—just to impress people who never gave you a second thought.

Here’s a good rule of thumb: stop giving a crap about people who don’t give a crap about you. That doesn’t mean you have to be rude. It just means their opinion doesn’t get to dictate your self-worth.

And repeat after me: You are not responsible for other people’s happiness.

“I’m sorry I didn’t set boundaries sooner.”

You thought being nice was what you were supposed to be. It’s the human thing to do. So you said yes when you wanted to say no, didn’t speak up when someone disrespected you, and went out of your way to do nice things for others.

And what thanks did you get? People taking advantage of your kindness.

There’s a difference between being nice and being kind. Being kind is showing compassion when someone needs it. Being nice is putting a smile on your face so as not to rock the boat. Kind people will help; nice people bend over backwards. I’m not saying this is license to be absolutely selfish. I’m asking that you differentiate between helping others vs enabling them.

Think about recent situations that made you really angry or uncomfortable. Take that as a sign that you need to set a boundary there.

“I’m sorry I pretended to be okay when I wasn’t.”

You smiled, nodded, and said “I’m fine” when, deep down, you were falling apart. Maybe you were trying to be strong for someone else. Maybe you thought you’d push through it. Or maybe you didn’t want to burden anyone—so you stayed silent. You turned down help when you needed it most.

But you don’t have to fight your battles alone. Even if close friends or family aren’t in the picture, there are still options—support groups, online forums, therapy, even the unconditional comfort of a pet.

The problem with pretending you’re fine is that emotional pain gets worse in isolation. Why stand alone in the dark when you could reach out and find someone willing to sit there with you? You don’t have to earn the right to ask for help. If you need it—ask.

“I’m sorry I ignored my gut.”

You felt it—that quiet nudge, that subtle tension in your chest or in the pit of your stomach, that whisper of “something’s not right.” But you brushed it off. You called it paranoia. Cold feet. Overthinking. And now, looking back, you know better.

I believe we are all equipped with a kind of inner compass. Maybe it’s ancestral memory or recollections from past lives; maybe it’s subconscious pattern recognition; maybe it’s something spiritual. Call it what you want—intuition, instinct, gut feeling—when it speaks, it’s never wrong. It’s not loud or frantic; it’s steady and firm. A quiet yet strong voice that says, “Stop. Pay attention.”

Logic is important, but it doesn’t catch everything. When your gut tells you something, don’t silence it.

“I’m sorry I only saw my flaws.”

Every pimple I obsessed over. Every pound I gained. Every awkward moment I replayed a thousand times in my head. Every decision I made while worrying more about others than myself.

What a waste of energy. I should have focused on the things that needed to be celebrated. Like buying my first car without help. Getting through years of bullying. Earning good grades. Surviving heartbreak. And somehow, still being here, still standing.

You didn’t “screw up,” you learned. You didn’t “fail,” you adapted. And all those imperfections you fixated on are not even visible to the people who love you.

The vast majority of people on their deathbeds regret what they didn’t do much more than what they did do. They regret the love they didn’t give themselves, the dreams they didn’t chase, and the life they held themselves back from living.

Stop obsessing over your flaws and start celebrating your wins. You’ve earned that.

You’ve spent enough time apologizing to others. Now it’s time to apologize to yourself. But don’t stop at “I’m sorry.” Say, “I deserved better—and I’m going to give myself better from now on.”

Insightfully yours,

Queen D