How recognising pain under behaviour can change how we see ourselves
There’s this thing we do sometimes. We mess up. We say the wrong thing. We react badly. And then, instead of just feeling bad about what we did, we make it about who we are. “I’m terrible.” “I ruin everything.” “I’m the problem.”
And it spirals. One mistake becomes a story. A bad day becomes a character trait. We turn ourselves into the villain of the story when most of the time, we’re just people carrying pain that leaks out in messy ways.
Behaviour is information, not identity
One of the most freeing things I’ve learned is that behaviour isn’t who you are. It’s a clue. It’s data. It’s showing you where there’s still pain, fear, longing. But it’s not your whole story.
You can lose your temper and still be someone learning patience. You can withdraw and still be someone who wants connection. You can say something you regret and still be a person worthy of love.
The mistake is real. The impact matters. But it’s not your entire identity.
The roots of the story we tell ourselves
A lot of us learned young that being good meant being perfect. No mistakes. No mess. So when we fail because of course we fail we don’t just feel guilty. We feel shame. Shame says, “It’s not what I did that’s bad. It’s who I am.”
And that shame makes it almost impossible to actually grow. Because when you believe you’re broken, you don’t reach for healing. You hide. You defend. You attack. Anything to protect the shaky ground underneath.
But if you can see your mistakes as signals instead of sentences, everything shifts. You stop punishing yourself and start getting curious. You ask, “What hurt am I carrying that showed up here?” Not to excuse it, but to understand it.
Hurt people hurt people, but they can also heal
It’s true that hurt people hurt people. But that’s not the end of the story. Hurt people can also become aware. They can take responsibility. They can choose to heal instead of pass the pain along.
Owning your behaviour doesn’t mean drowning in shame. It means looking at it clearly, without flinching, and saying, “I see what happened there. I see where I need to do better. And I’m willing.”
Healing starts with that willingness. Not perfection. Not having it all figured out. Just the simple decision to stay awake to yourself.
Choosing curiosity over condemnation
The next time you catch yourself spiraling into “I’m the villain” territory, pause. Take a breath. Ask yourself: “What pain showed up here? What old fear or wound got triggered?”
That question pulls you out of shame and into compassion. It invites you to stay with yourself instead of abandoning yourself when you need support the most.
You’re not a villain. You’re a person who hurts sometimes. Who messes up. Who’s learning. Who’s healing. And that’s enough.