How can I forgive you?
How can I forgive you?
How can I move on from the hours of yesterday when those hours were so messed up? So fucked up. So full of doubt and damage.
How can I forgive you has never really been asked from my senses before. But, now I wonder if the time is due for forgiveness to begin. I wonder if forgiveness can hug the torn-up memories and lay them gently on my heart so the stories attached to my perceived truth wither beautifully out of my body.
The years proceeding my forty-eighth year on this earth hold a legitimacy that only I can pertain. Experiences and circumstances cemented into my young and emerging brain. Viewed from the eyes of a child powerless to understand her perceptions could be wrong. Carrying them tight in my hold as my body grew and the age inclined. A teenager helpless and hopeless to stop the torment from residing within.
Parents suck. Whether they mean to or not. Whether they are in your life or not. They just fucking suck.
Mine were not the worst. Nor were they the best. They were somewhere in between.
How can you parent when the child within is still carrying around so much hurt? How can you express your love when the love you once longed for never came to fruition?
How does one understand that the heartaches of their childhood are involved in the rearing of their own children?
I notice this with my own daughter. Especially when she was much younger. I was so caught up in my own emotional trauma from decades ago that I exploded in a grown-up tantrum because life was not as I believed it should be. That I was not as I was supposed to be. That those closest to me could never, and would never, actually want to be around me. That the love I desperately searched for was not where I thought it was meant to be.
Eleven years ago our son was born sleeping at full term. And, along with our visions of a future together, he slipped out of our lives. Leaving us wondering if this heartache was a burden we were meant to break under.
Many years passed as we raised our daughter, when finally I came to fully understand his short and significant presence in our lives. He was never meant to stay. He was a gift that I couldn’t quite figure out. Now I know. Now I know he came to shake up my world. Mess with my mind so that I could see more clearly. Give me a reason to see myself in a new way. To take the old and do away with it.
When my daughter was born I made a promise to her and myself that I would find a way to do better. To not be the mother that I had.
Unfortunately, I was so messed up that it took a while to find the right path. But I found it. Occasionally I fall down and don’t want to get back up, now and again I wander off the path looking for what I know is familiar and sometimes I just sit there, staring off into the distance, hoping and praying I have the strength to keep going.
And, now that I am a mother, I can see how messed up my parents were as they did what they could to raise us. They just weren’t able to see beyond their own emotional trauma. Which really sucked for us because we now have our own to deal with.
My childhood wasn’t bad. It was the 80’s so getting the wooden spoon was normal. Being made to feel as if we weren’t important was normal. Being yelled at for no reason was normal.
It left scars. Wounds hidden from the view of others. But, beyond that, my childhood was actually pretty good. It was the teenage years that really fucked me up.
My mind went wild.
My body went berserk.
My confidence went into the abyss.
Resulting in all relationships falling apart in one way or another. Especially the one with myself.
So, who am I to forgive? How can I forgive you when I think most of the fault is all mine?
Is it or isn’t it? I was only a young girl. Caught up in a world that valued the thin. Absorbed with the notion that I was not good enough. Captivated by everyone I deemed to be better than me.
Who was I to share these sacred and scary thoughts with? My mother never seemed interested. Or did she? Did I dismiss her attempts to ease the pain? My father definitely wasn’t. I will never know why he was the man he was. I will never grasp his failings as a father. The little I know about my mothers upbringing helps me to understand her inaccuracies in motherhood. Her time as a child was fraught and full of terror. Mine was not like that. Yes, we received the wooden spoon and a belt or two… is it the same thing? Is it the same thing to be unsure if what you say or do will cause a rise in anger and a spoon to your behind?
What does it mean to be raised with love? Instead of with mistrust and uncertainty? I wouldn’t know.
How can I forgive you for all of this. Both of you. All of you.
There is more to the mistrust than just my parents. But, honestly, those relationships were unaware of the mistrust I already had. These two main characters in my existence did nothing for the trust to endure. I then took that mistrust and held it like a baby. Holding it securely to my chest. Afraid to let it go for the damage that will most certainly arise.
I could guise this all in the mistrust of my life, however, love is the real culprit. The wanted posters being torn down, destroyed or plastered over. Love was all I ever wanted and needed but yet it was elusive. Hard to track down. Taken away and locked up in a damp and dirty dungeon. Me believing its captors were those who brought me into this life.
Where does the blame lay? Do I continue to blame my parents for their failings as I shout about my victimisation? Or do I, now as a woman in my own right, take control of what once was?
I have taken control but yet those hours of yesterday come back to haunt me. Ticking away as if those moments were now.
How do we let them go? How do we take a stand against their infractions?
This is the part that’s hard. This is the part that none of us want to partake in so we ignore it and hope it goes away, whilst impassively giving ourselves over to what we have always known and believed ourselves to be.
A great place to start is forgiveness. Easing your own mind in order to move forward, instead of staying stuck in the fucked-up-ness that once was.
Forgiving what somebody else has done is not without its challenges. It brings up memories best left forgotten. It forces you to deal with something that doesn’t want to be dealt with.
What am I even forgiving? Am I over thinking things? Am I looking to justify the parental textbook of the 80’s because my childhood wasn’t maybe, hopefully that bad?
It wasn’t even the beltings or the spoonings (and not those nice ones you do with someone you care about). It was the look in my mum’s eye when she was so full of anger that made me question every bit of her love, which I then embraced as my own. She passed that onto me. An anger so intense it had its own anger.
I hated everything about myself. My life. My body. I carried that with me for decades. I did not know any other way to be. And that made me even more angry! Anger was my main emotion. And it fucking sucked!
So, who do I forgive?
All of you. And, all of me.
I take the time to forgive each and every one of you. I have to. Its important.
I accept my own incompetence in this whole mess. I forgive my incompetence in this whole mess.
I understand your inadequacies in this whole mess. I forgive your inadequacies in this whole mess.
Life really is too short to have all of that stuff hold me back from being who I know I am. If I can’t forgive all of that shit then I may as well hold into it for the rest of my life and wallow around in it until I go under.
Forgiveness doesn’t actually need to be hard. It can be easy if I allow it. I don’t want to excuse their treatment of me. I want to move on with my life free of this limitation and restraint. This is for me. Not them.
I forgive you. I forgive me.
I know better. I do better.
Please forgive me
I love you
(Ho’oponopono forgiveness technique)
And, whilst you are doing your best to forgive keep on shouting SHUT THE FUCK UP, because that mind of yours will want to talk you out of it. Don’t let it.
Your exercise for this week is to decide which one person you would like to forgive and why. If this is extremely hard then please choose someone that has not caused you too much emotional trauma. If you really do need to address those deeper wounds, please find a professional to support their release.
When you have found that person, or it could be a few, focus on them as you say the following:
Please forgive me
I love you
These words are not for them. They are for you. Use them to forgive you both at the same time.
Or you could say instead
I forgive you
I love you
These words are powerful and have an effect on your vibrational energy as well as theirs. You do not have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable with. You do not have to have any kind of relationship with this person. Forgive them. Forgive yourself and heal that wounded relationship so it no longer weighs you down and stops you from living your life. You deserve to have that release.