The first time my child said,
“It’s all my fault,”
I felt something twist in my stomach.
Not because it was true,
but because I realized:
Somewhere along the way, without meaning to, I had taught him that.
Not in words.
Not in a lesson I sat down to give.
But in the way I spoke to myself.
In the way I handled mistakes.
In how I looked for someone to blame when I was overwhelmed.
I never told him,
“We blame people in this house.”
But somehow, he learned it anyway.
And it broke my heart.
Because I know that language.
I grew up with it too.
Like so many women, I learned guilt before I understood strength.
I learned that being responsible meant taking the blame.
Not standing tall, but shrinking under pressure.
In my mind, responsibility didn’t sound like courage.
It sounded like:
“You messed up. Now fix it. Alone.”
But real responsibility isn’t about guilt.
It isn’t about shame.
It’s about maturity. About soft strength.
It’s knowing:
“I’m not the whole problem, but I can choose to be part of the solution.”
Women who struggle with self-worth often carry the weight of guilt for everything.
They apologize constantly.
They question every emotion.
They say things like:
“I’m sorry I got upset.”
“I shouldn’t have been sad.”
“Maybe it’s my fault things went wrong.”
Not because they’ve done something wrong,
but because deep down they believe:
“If I’m small enough, quiet enough, perfect enough… maybe I won’t be left behind.”
Maybe you do this too.
Maybe you say sorry for needing space.
For feeling too much.
For speaking up.
If so, maybe it’s time to shift something.
Not to blame yourself for how you’ve learned to cope,
but to set yourself free.
Let’s rewrite the story.
It’s not your fault you were raised in shame.
But it’s your responsibility to choose kindness now.
It’s not your fault someone hurt you.
But it’s your responsibility to stop living from that wound.
It’s not your fault you silenced your truth.
But it’s your responsibility to find your voice again.
It may sound unfair.
But in truth, it’s powerful.
Because it puts the choice in your hands.
Guilt is a feeling.
Responsibility is a decision.
Guilt keeps you stuck in what was.
Responsibility asks,
“What do I want to do from here?”
That’s where your power lives.
Quiet.
Steady.
Real.
The kind that changes not just you,
but your children,
your relationships,
your world.
And maybe,
the little girl inside you is still waiting.
Waiting for someone to hold her hand and say:
“This was never your fault.
But now, we get to choose something better.
Together.”