I did something that was very difficult yesterday. I swallowed my pride and reached out to someone that I had been incorrectly blaming for problems. It was wrong of me, and I admitted it with sincerity.
I allowed myself to be hurt by the initial response, then I realized that the response really doesn’t matter. I tried to right a wrong and I feel good about it.
Admitting fault isn’t easy for me. It isn’t easy for anyone. Nobody likes the taste of crow. But I ate it. And now I can hold my head high because I’m better for it. It’s nice, this feeling of peace.