Forgiveness

I think I have always equated forgiveness with reconciliation. The idea of it, anyway. Like, once I’ve forgiven you, I must accept you and reconcile.

It’s funny, actually, when you think of it. This idea that we must forgive (for ourselves), love and accept people as they are (to be holy), and reconcile to complete the circle.

My 43rd birthday is looming on the horizon. That’s to say, I’ve been around the sun more than a handful of times, and I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two.

For starters, forgiveness is not the same as acceptance or tolerance or “letting it go.” The entire concept of forgiveness—“being the bigger person”—comes from people who prefer comfort over truth and would bury their integrity in the interest of just “keeping the peace.” No thanks.

Forgiveness is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. It’s not a clean slate or a reset button. It is none of those things. It is not easy, timely, or finite.

But they’re right when they say it’s not for the other person.

Four years ago, I went through the worst year of my life. As someone who has not had the easiest life—I had my first apartment at 16, life wasn’t very kind before that, as you can imagine—when I say that it was the WORST, believe me.

There were days that I could not get out of bed or leave my house.

Days when I did, and wished that I hadn’t.

I lost my entire support system—friends, family… I use all of these terms loosely here. At the time, all of this was devastating. Painful. Uncomfortable. I imagine it mirrored how a caterpillar feels when they’re entering their metamorphosis. It can’t possibly feel good to change everything about yourself all at once.

I have had a lot of time to think about grace.

There is an image circulating on social media that reads, “I used to tell myself that maybe they were going through something, but so was I, and I never treated anyone that way.”

Being judged for how I handled the worst year of my life felt extremely unfair. Losing people that I thought were family. The love I thought was unconditional. The bonds unbreakable.

Here’s the thing: I didn’t lose anyone who was willing to have an honest conversation, to take a different point of view, who was okay with being wrong, or brave enough to tell me when I was.

Funnily enough, I don’t mind being wrong. I actually wish to be wrong more often, because so often I find myself surrounded by people who are predictable. In situations I can see from start to finish. I don’t want to be right—I find it disappointing to always know how it will go.

I know now that I didn’t lose anyone or anything that was meant for me. As painful as it was, it was all necessary. The universe has a way of correcting course. No matter how far off course you have veered… you can always be led back. Forced back?

Here’s what I know: anything less than absolute devastation would have kept me exactly where I was. Slowly sinking into a life of quicksand. Losing myself and my dreams along the way.

The universe had sent me so many messages, so many signs over the years. But my stubbornness and determination refused to listen. I believed that if I just tried harder, gave a little more, had more patience… more, more, more… that eventually it would all work out.

But the more I gave, the less I had.

So—it all blew up. As it had to.

The universe left me with two choices:

Die this way, or choose to LIVE.

I think I held onto the anger long enough to fuel my escape. To keep me from running back to what is comfortable.

But today, I woke up in the Smoky Mountains and feel lighter than I have in years. Because of forgiveness.

Carrying around hurt, anger, and sadness is HEAVY. It is literally holding a place for people who do not have your interests at heart. They are not concerned with your well-being. And they are certainly not offering you grace.

Let it go.

Understand that people CAN change, but rarely do. They are the result of their parents, environments, and relationships. They see the world through the lens they’ve been given. They’re not interested in growing or evolving their belief systems. That doesn’t have to mean anything.

It just is.

And the moment you can just accept that people are reacting based on themselves and what they know of love… the better off you will be. It doesn’t have to be about you.

I have offered forgiveness and grace to those who have scoffed in my face. That’s not about me. That’s about them. And I no longer hold a grudge or any anger for them.

I have forgiven.

That doesn’t mean I accept their behavior. Or tolerate their disrespect. Or attempt to reconcile. It means that I release them from the obligation of living up to MY expectations of who they should be.

It also means that I stop waiting for apologies or phone calls that will never come. More importantly, I stop needing them to. I no longer need anyone to validate my choices or condone my actions. I no longer look outside for acceptance and love. I am whole. I am enough.

There is strength in holding on, but the greater strength has always been in the letting go.