THE DAY I REALIZED I WAS THE TOXIC ONE

THE DAY I REALIZED I WAS THE TOXIC ONE

It’s easy to talk about the people who hurt us. The colleague who lied. The friend who ghosted. The partner who betrayed. The boss who belittled. But what happens when the mirror turns, and the villain looks a little like you?

I used to think I was the healed one. The emotionally intelligent one. The one with the words, the books, the credentials.

But I was also the one who cut people off without a conversation.

The one who weaponized silence. The one who labeled people “toxic” just because they couldn’t meet my needs.

I was the one who always needed to be right. Who offered feedback but couldn’t take any. Who could unpack the psychology of others but didn’t have the courage to sit with my own shadows.

And one day, someone I deeply respected looked at me—gently—and said: “You do realize you hurt people too, right?”

I wanted to defend myself. To say, “I was protecting my peace.”

To pull out my trauma receipts and say, “But I’ve been through so much.” But all I could do was sit in the silence of that truth.

And let it wash over me.

It is a peculiar kind of grief, to realize that while you were busy surviving, You were also wounding others with your walls, your withdrawal, your sharp intellect.

Healing is not the absence of wounds.

It is the willingness to look at the ones we’ve inflicted intentionally or not.

That was the day I became a student again. Not of strategy. Not of theology. Not of leadership. But of accountability. Of humility. Of emotional maturity.

Healing isn’t a performance. It’s not a social media caption or a viral tweet. It’s the quiet decision to say:

“Maybe I was wrong. And I want to do better.”

So today, if you’re brave enough, I invite you to ask:

Where have I been the toxic one?

Not to shame yourself. But to liberate yourself.

Because that, my darling, is emotional intelligence.