I am a person who easily forgives.
The reality?
I am a person who easily forgives once you’ve apologized and repented in what I consider to be an equal amount to the hurt you caused me. THEN, I can forgive you. I don’t accept half ass apologies. I disdain insincerity. I see the ability to hurt others and not acknowledge those hurts to be the grossest sign of inhuman treatment; a lack of humanity on the deepest level.
I believe everyone should acknowledge their mistake and deeply apologize as well as make a well-kept promise of never doing that offensive thing again.
In my mind, it SHOULD go something like this:
Child leaves underwear on the floor after being asked several times to pick them up.
Me: Why is your underwear still on the floor?
Child: I’m sorry momma. I forgot all about it. I know how much you hate it when I forget to do the things you ask. Cam you forgive me? I promise to not leave my underwear on the floor anymore.
Here’s what usually happens:
Child leaves underwear on the floor after being asked several times to pick them up.
Me: Why is your underwear still on the floor?
Child: (heaves a heavy sigh and only slightly rolls his eyes while he gets up to do something about it and walks past me to the bathroom with out a word)
Me: I asked you a question. Why is your underwear still on the floor?
Child: (deep sigh) I dunno mom. I just forgot. I’m doing it now. Can we drop it?
Me: (now getting angry at the insolence and starting to feel hurt) Seriously? That is how you are going to talk to me? Young man, when I ask you to do something I expect you to do it. I don’t expect any lip. Especially if I have to REMIND you to do it. What I want to hear from you RIGHT now is, “I’m sorry mom. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I promise I’ll keep my underwear off the floor.”
Now imagine if someone actually did something truly hurtful. I might say something and tell them. They do whatever it is they do and I feel blown off and hurt. Because how can they know about my little formulated requirement for forgiveness? Then I do all I can to forget about what happened (this is what I have discovered is my way of “forgiving” them) but carry the hurt around unresolved. And the next time they hurt me, I might lose my temper cause the old pain comes back to live with the new. And the cycle starts over and instead of resolving or forgiving or getting past any of it, I end up crying my mad tears and feeling misunderstood.
And where has that left me?
It leaves me with my masterpiece of self-created pain and suffering.
It leaves me angry and hurt.
It leaves me angry with them for their cruelty, and inhumanity, and insensitivity.
It leaves me being a silent victim. ‘Cause Lord knows, I learned a long time ago that the world doesn’t cotton to drama queens. Better to keep my mouth shut and suffer in silence.
What a fucked up thing to learn about yourself at the age of 42!
Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m judging myself and I’m not suppose to do that. At least I recognized it happening. Someone give me a cookie.
I DON’T WANT TO BE A VICTIM
I certainly don’t want to be a victim of my own creation. Who does that to themselves? Evidently I do and I wasn’t even aware I was doing it. I set up a no-win requirement for forgiveness to keep being the victim. To keep me holding on to the pain. To keep adding to my masterpiece of suffering.
Time to break out the sledge-hammer. That bitch of a masterpiece is coming down. Time to positively direct my anger and use it to un-create this thing I have created. Now that I understand where this misery is coming from I can un-do it. I can start the journey of forgiving myself and others. Of learning to set boundaries. To operating in reality and to understand that forgiving someone doesn’t mean THEY have to meet a required set of actions.
Forgiveness is something I do for me because I love myself enough not to suffer. People are going to hurt me. Kids will leave their underwear on the floor and heave heavy sighs when you call them on it. Dad’s are going to scare you and mom’s are going to fuck you up in some unknowing way. Lovers will turn out not to be the person you thought they were.
Who cares? Is it worth the mad tears? Is it worth the anger? Is it worth hating my mom? Is it worth shaking my fist at God and giving him the finger?
No.
No, it fucking isn’t.
That is all.