There’s a quiet power in accepting your flaws. In a world that worships perfection and constant self-improvement, the statement “I’m bad, but that’s good, and I’ll never be good and that’s not bad” sounds like rebellion. But it isn’t about giving up or settling. It’s about embracing the truth of being human.

“I’m bad” is an admission. It’s a shedding of the mask we wear to appear competent, moral, or successful at all times. It’s the moment you admit you’ve made mistakes, have weaknesses, or don’t measure up to society’s expectations. But “that’s good” because it’s honest. It strips away illusions and lays the foundation for authenticity. It gives you the freedom to exist without the pressure of constant performance.

Saying “I’ll never be good” might seem like a surrender, but it’s actually a deep acceptance that we will always fall short in some way. No one is immune to error, contradiction, or failure. The pursuit of goodness can become a trap if it’s built on shame, comparison, or denial. By releasing the need to “be good” in the eyes of others, you can focus on living meaningfully, not flawlessly.

And “that’s not bad” is the final turn. It removes the sting from imperfection. Not being good doesn’t make you worthless. It makes you real. The rigid definitions of good and bad often come from systems that benefit from control, conformity, and shame. When you break free from those definitions, you gain something else: freedom, compassion, and a strange kind of peace.

This mindset isn’t nihilism. It’s not an excuse for cruelty or apathy. It’s a call to authenticity. It means showing up with your full self — messy, complex, unfinished — and still being worthy of love and existence.

To be bad and okay with it is to stop running. To stop pretending. And to finally, quietly, start living.