Sitting in the sun outside my favorite cafe, for the first time in months I felt a sense of peace. Usually when I was alone with my thoughts I felt a sense of panic, but as the sun warmed my cheeks, my brain was finally quiet. I tightened my grip on my coffee and brought it to my lips, closing my eyes as I savored it.

“Can I get you anything else?” My eyes fluttered open to find a waitress hovering over me, her expression friendly. I shook my head.

“Thank you, but I’m all set for now.” She nodded and scurried over to the next table. I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes again. For the first time in months, I didn’t feel guilty. The mistakes I’d made - I accepted that I couldn’t change them. All I could do was move forward and try harder next time. The cruel words I’d said to my partner in anger, the way I’d lashed out at him, wished the worse on him - those moments were reality, and I owned them. Going forward, I would do better. Show him that I’d grown.

For a while I beat myself up, convinced that I was a horrible person unworthy of forgiveness. But over time, I came to realize that my lack of self compassion was actually at the root of my anger. Even if my feelings were valid, I needed to look at their cause and reevaluate how I responded to them.

I took another sip of my coffee, swallowed, and then inhaled slowly.