In a year of ups and downs, one line from Freudian helped me get through it all.

In the depths of Frank Ocean’s Tumblr lies an unassuming text post that insists, “Take it easy on yourself. Please.”

As simple as it may seem, this is a mantra I’ve always found difficult to embrace. Time and time again, I’ve pushed myself to meet unreasonably high standards, constantly comparing myself to others—to an unhealthy extent. But, interestingly enough, it actually took a year of intense self-scrutiny for it to all finally click.

Daniel Caesar’s Freudian, released on August 25, is a jaw-dropping exploration of modern love, a combination of R&B, soul, and gospel that can strike a chord with any generation. The project, powered by the popularity of the hit single “Get You,” as well as some incredible live performances, ended up receiving two Grammy nominations. Yet, for me, the power of Freudian does not lie in its commercial success, but rather in its personal applicability. And while I’ve played every track on the project dozens of times, there’s one song that I keep coming back to, that’s been particularly impactful.

“Blessed,” the seventh track on Freudian, is—by all accounts—a love song. The first verse, although brief, showcases this:

“Everywhere that I go, everywhere that I be / If you were not surrounding me with your energy / I don’t wanna be there, don’t be anywhere / Any place that I can’t feel you, I just wanna be near you.”

However, for me, the track has an everyday relevance, embodied in the opening line of the chorus. Backed only by the soothing keys of a piano, Caesar sings, “And yes I’m a mess, but I’m blessed to be stuck with you.”

This past year, I was — on so many occasions—a mess. Even the most minor setback, whether it was academic, social, or personal, would lead me to question my self-worth, would make me wonder why I deserved what I had been given. And while I understood this tendency was unhealthy, it was one I just couldn’t seem to shake. It was taking a toll on my grades, my relationships, and my overall health, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was helpless, held prisoner by my own lofty expectations.

That is, until October, when I had the chance to see Daniel Caesar in concert. I specifically remember buying the ticket as a way of treating myself for making it through a hectic midterm season, which had—without fail—caused those feelings of self-doubt to resurface. In that way, the concert was more than a reward; it was an escape from the suffocating insecurity.

Midway through the set that night, from my spot in the balcony of the Fillmore Silver Spring, I sang along, with hundreds of other voices, to “Blessed.” It was the perfect opportunity to reaffirm the fact that I was indeed a mess. And while I wasn’t proud of it before, in that moment, I was—and I still am now. The entire experience was cathartic: it allowed me to finally realize that while I had my flaws, they didn’t define or control me; there were still so many people in my life who loved me in spite of them. Since the concert, with the support of these same individuals, I’ve accomplished so much, and these achievements inspire me to carry on, day in and day out. Most importantly, I’ve been able to become physically and mentally healthy in ways that would have seemed unimaginable just six months prior.

Now, for the first time in my life, I’m taking it easy on myself. I can comfortably say I’m not perfect. I fuck up. I’m a mess. And I’ve never been happier or more willing to admit it.