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Garak knew better than to indulge in self-reflection, he knew how dangerous it could be to think of one's motives and failures, the sort of thing that kept people with a conscience up at night. He tried his best not to have one of those, far too dangerous, far too much of a hassle for a member of the Obsidian Order.
In his line of work, a conscience was the sort of thing that got people killed, or worse, the interests of Cardassia exposed. It was best to lock it all away and never look at it again.
He was more of a failure in that regard than he would like to admit. He could never completely let go of some deranged notion of trying to do what was right, or at least keeping from doing something too overtly bad, unless the situation really called for it. Just one of his many failings, as Tain would say.
Tain always thought that he was too soft to do what needed to be done. Maybe Tain was right, or maybe Garak was just better at knowing what really needed to be done, and what was egos or panic talking. He tried to be reasonable, that was more than it could be said about most spies, in his experience. Maybe that was why he was exiled, with no real prospect of returning.
He was a good spy. He could have been a great one, if he didn't allow his personal feelings to get in the way. But he cared and he hesitated against innocents, and sometimes he even let sentimentality guide his actions.
Tain could never praise the good without reminding him of the bad. For Tain, Garak had always been damaged goods. The child that he didn't want, but couldn't get himself to kill, son to a woman he didn't want to keep but couldn't get rid of, the protégé who would have done anything for him, but that he still saw as a weak traitor.
He would never be good enough for Tain, but yet he kept trying, hoping that maybe this time would be the one where everything would work out and Tain would finally recognize his worth.
It never happened, of course, and it would never happen. For Tain he would only ever be his shortcomings, all the ways in which he was a disappointment and proved that he was never worthy to be called a son. He knew it wouldn't happen, and yet he tried, such was the power that Tain had over him to turn him again into that young boy desperate for approval.
Maybe he was just as pathetic as Tain thought he was, and this proved it.
Whatever the case, Tain was right. He was damaged goods. Either from the start, or from his training and work with the Obsidian Order, from learning to torture and kill so easily that it came as a second nature to him. He was damaged, in a profound way, and no one would ever be able to fix him.