Hey everyone,

Today, I want to share something deeply personal — an honest, vulnerable reflection on a painful chapter in my life. This isn’t easy for me to do, but I believe that sometimes, the hardest truths are what we need to face in order to grow, heal, and move forward.

And so, I’m writing this for someone very specific — someone I once called a friend, someone I loved and trusted, but who I hurt in ways I never fully understood until now. I want to acknowledge my mistakes, own my pain, and hopefully, extend a hand of apology and understanding.

This is my truth — raw, imperfect, and full of regret.

To the person I once called my friend — I am truly sorry

First, I want to start with these words: I am sorry. Sorry for the pain I caused you, for the betrayals I committed, and for the times I wasn’t who I wanted to be — not in my words, my actions, or my heart. Sorry for the moments I let my anger or frustration get the best of me, and for the damage that caused.

Looking back, I see how much I hurt you — and how I might have hurt you without even realizing it. I see now that the damage runs deep, and it’s taken me a long time to fully understand just how much my actions affected you.

I know I did things that cut you deeply — things I regret every single day. Like sleeping with your brother. That was a betrayal I wish I could undo, because I never wanted to hurt you like that. I was trying to cope with my own pain, my own anger, and I let those feelings take over. I was selfish and reckless, and I see now how that broke your trust and your heart.

And then there’s the moment when I called the cops on you, even when you stayed in my home with my then-husband. I was overwhelmed and scared, but I realize that calling the police, especially in a moment of chaos, made you feel like I didn’t trust you or have your back. That’s something I regret deeply. You deserved better from me — someone who would stand by you, not turn away or call for help to punish you.

The betrayal about my son’s paternity

One of the most painful things I want to address is how you told my son’s father that he was the dad of my son, instead of me telling him myself. That moment — and how it was handled — hurt me more than I can fully express.

I always wanted to be the one to tell him the truth. I wanted to be honest, to own my story and my truth, but instead, you chose to speak for me. That was a breach of trust that cut deeply. It made me feel like my voice didn’t matter, like I wasn’t trusted to handle my own life and my own truth.

I understand that you were hurt, angry, and maybe felt like you needed to do what you did to get back at me. I get that. But for me, it was a moment that made me question everything — our friendship, my own worth, and whether I could trust you again. I wish I could go back and handle that moment differently, to be the one to tell him myself, to be honest from the start.

That’s a wound I carry still, and I hope someday, we can find a way to heal from it — even if just in our own hearts.

The anger, the misunderstandings, and the damage

I also want to acknowledge the other ways I’ve hurt you. I’ve heard that you still watch my life, create fake social media pages to spy on me, and act tough in emails but are scared in person. Honestly, that hurts. I always believed in real, honest connection, not hiding behind screens or masks.

You’ve also betrayed me in ways I never expected — sleeping with my second husband, staying in communication with people I trusted, even after everything. I know these actions were fueled by anger, revenge, and pain. And I want to say that I understand how you might have felt — even if I don’t agree with everything that happened.

I made mistakes. Big ones. Small ones. Ones I didn’t even realize at the time. I was hurting, confused, and sometimes just plain blind to the damage I was causing. But I want you to know that I am genuinely sorry for every moment you felt betrayed, abandoned, or like I didn’t have your back.

The pain of betrayal and misunderstandings

Looking back now, I realize how much I was hurting myself during all of this. I was trying to pretend I was okay, trying to keep it all together, but inside, I was broken. I thought I was doing what I needed to do — defending myself, protecting my heart, and trying to move on. But I see now how much of that was just me hiding, not facing what I really needed to face.

I remember the times I went out of my way for you — staying up late, giving you my last dollar, trying to be there when no one else was. I genuinely cared. But I realize that sometimes, caring isn’t enough. Sometimes, words and actions need to align, and I fell short of that.

And through it all, I failed to see your pain — I dismissed your feelings, I didn’t listen enough, and I let my own anger and hurt cloud my judgment. I wish I could go back and do things differently, to be a better friend, a better person.

Why I’m writing this now

Honestly, I’ve carried the weight of guilt and regret for years. I’ve tried to move on, tried to forget or suppress the pain, but I realize that I can’t truly heal until I face the truth head-on. This isn’t about trying to fix everything or erase the past — I know some wounds are too deep for that. But it’s about owning my mistakes, acknowledging the pain I caused, and making peace with it.

I want to let go of the guilt that’s been weighing me down. I want to release the bitterness and regret, and instead, focus on growth, forgiveness, and healing. I hope that someday, you might find it in your heart to forgive me — not because I deserve it, but because I believe that everyone deserves a second chance.

My hopes for the future

This isn’t just a long apology — it’s a promise. I promise to learn from my mistakes, to be more mindful, to listen more, and to try to do better. I hope that, in time, we can find some kind of peace, even if it’s just within ourselves.

I want to be someone who owns her truth, who learns from her past, and who strives to be better every day. If you ever want to talk, I am here. If you want to keep your distance, I understand that too. But I needed to say all of this because I can’t keep living with the guilt, the regret, and the unresolved pain.

To anyone reading this who might relate

If you’ve ever hurt someone you loved, whether intentionally or not, I hope you’ll take this as a reminder that honesty, humility, and owning your mistakes are some of the bravest things you can do. We’re all flawed, imperfect, and sometimes reckless, but growth begins with acknowledging our truth.

And to those who feel betrayed or misunderstood — I see you. I understand your pain, and I hope that someday, healing is possible for us all.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for giving me a moment to be real, vulnerable, and honest. I hope that, in some small way, this can be a step toward understanding, forgiveness, and peace — for me, for you, and for anyone else who’s ever been lost in their own pain.

I am sorry. Truly, deeply sorry. And I am hopeful that someday, we will find a way to heal from all of this.

With love, humility, and hope,

Tina