I have done many things in the past which I am not proud of.

Too many.

On my funeral, there will be people coming, a variety of people.
All of which have known different sides of me, in different stages of life, with different personalities.
Every one of them, will have known a different person, talk about different things, have different perspectives.
A lot of negatives and perhaps some good.

I have a colourful past.

Too colourful.

But I am not ashamed.

People who know me now, the people in my life now.
They will be shocked to know who I was.
In a bad way I guess.

Nevertheless I am not ashamed.

If I were to clean up my closet, bare it all.
Perhaps some would choose to run away from me, not wanting to participate in my life.

But that’s their problem, not mine.

My past had shaped me.
It wasn’t beautiful.
It wasn’t filled with sunshine and flowers.
I could write about it and perhaps can never stop.

But it is history.
And it is mine, my history.
And without a history, I wouldn’t be present.

And I am neither proud nor ashamed of it.
Simply grateful.

Neither am I proud of who I have become.
But I am me. And that’s enough. I would never change that.
Improve perhaps.
But not change.

No regrets.