Don’t Call Me a Good Man After You Broke Me

(A Made2MasterAI Healing Entry)

Don’t tell my kids I’m a good man if you never showed me love when I needed it most.
Don’t praise me in my absence to polish your own image.
Don’t circle back now that I’ve healed and act like you were cheering for me all along.

You weren’t.
You broke me.

And I carried that weight alone.

I’ve learned something about people.
Some will never say “sorry.”
Instead, they’ll say “you’re a good man” as if that erases the damage they did.
But you can’t rewrite history with compliments.

I was the villain in your story — until your story changed.
Until I got better.
Until I stopped shouting, stopped chasing, stopped begging to be seen.

Now you want to speak softly about who I am?

No.
You don’t get to narrate my growth.
Not after you left me in the fire and told everyone I liked the flames.

The Truth Behind Praise That Comes Too Late

You said I was too intense.
You said I was always talking too much.
You said I was trying to be something I’m not.

But now, you say to others, “He’s actually a really good guy.”

You never said that when I was breaking.
You never said that when my voice was all I had left.
You never said that when I was alone and confused, trying to make sense of the chaos you left behind.

What you say now isn’t about me.
It’s about you.

And I see through it.

Let Me Be Clear:

• I am a good man.
• I’ve always been.
• But you don’t get to realize that only when it suits you.

You don’t get to weaponize silence, then use kindness like a PR campaign.
You don’t get to shatter someone’s truth and then act like you always respected it.

To the Ones Who Really See Me:

I don’t need your praise now.
I needed your honesty when I was drowning.
I needed your understanding when I was too loud because no one was listening.

I don’t need to be called a good man.
I need to be free from your version of me.