Maybe I Am: Confronting the Toxic Habits We Don’t Want to Admit

When I first heard Maybe I Am, I’ll be honest—I wasn’t here for the self-reflection. In fact, I kind of wore the song like a badge of honor. The defiance in it spoke to me. "So, what if I’m ruining my own life? It’s my life, I can do whatever I want." There was this rebellious streak in me, like, you don’t know me, and I’m going to live how I feel, consequences be damned. Also, who are you to tell me I am doing things to myself? Aren't you supposed to love me regardless? It felt like the perfect song to throw up in the face of anyone who tried to tell me I was making mistakes or that I should change. Maybe I Am was my anthem for chaos, for living recklessly and unapologetically or at least holding onto that energy.

But here's the thing about the song: it doesn't just stay in that rebellious space. The more I listened, the more it started forcing me to look at myself—really look at myself. And as much as I hated to admit it, the song was calling me out on my own toxic behaviors. The truth is, I was sabotaging myself. I was controlling situations in ways that hurt, pushing people away just because I didn’t want to confront the things I was doing wrong, or I was in this endless defensive state where I did or said things I didn't really mean to hold my place. The line between my own stubbornness and self-destruction was getting blurry, and it felt like the song was just holding a mirror up to my worst habits.

At first, I resisted the message. After all, how could I accept that maybe I was the one causing my own grief? That would mean admitting that people who called me out—especially the ex I was still holding on to—were right. And who wants to do that? It’s hard to say, “Yeah, you hurt me, but you were right when you called me out on my shit.” Plus, let's be honest, we all love a bit of the toxicity. It's the unhealthy parts of us that want some exhilaration.

But as the track played over and over, I started to hear something different in it. It wasn’t just a “fuck you” to everyone who tried to hold me accountable. It became an invitation to reflect on why I kept making the same mistakes, over and over again. I couldn’t ignore the fact that a lot of my struggles were self-inflicted. I was getting in my own way. And the more I listened to the song, the more I started to understand that maybe there was something liberating about accepting that part of myself.

What’s hard to admit is that those toxic habits—the ones you hate but secretly love, because they feel comfortable or familiar—are intoxicating for a reason. It’s like you get hooked on the adrenaline of chaos, of fighting, of being your own worst enemy, because it’s the only thing that feels like control when everything else feels out of your hands. Maybe I Am doesn’t offer a solution to that internal war; it just asks you to look at it. It says, “Hey, maybe you’re the problem, and maybe that’s okay. We don’t have to fix everything right now, but can we at least agree on that?”

And that’s what the song gave me—permission to admit my flaws without immediately needing to change them. At least, not yet. It's as if Fletcher was saying, “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to fix everything in one go. But can you just acknowledge that maybe, sometimes, you are your own worst enemy?”

In the broader context of Fletcher’s album, Maybe I Am feels like the starting point—a brutal wake-up call that sets the tone for everything that comes after. It's the first track, and it makes you face the fact that you’re the one getting in your own way. It's not about shame, it's not about guilt; it’s about recognizing that sometimes, the very things you’re blaming others for, you’re also doing to yourself. The rest of the album picks up from there, moving through healing, love, and self-discovery, but Maybe I Am is one that forces you to confront the uncomfortable truth about yourself.

So, maybe I am the problem sometimes. Maybe you are, too. But simply acknowledging that—without the pressure to fix it immediately—could be the first step toward real change. Or, you know, do what you want, but at least own the fact that you're the one causing the damage.