Tiny Buddha

Tag: forgiveness

  • How I Got Free from the Trap of Resentment

    How I Got Free from the Trap of Resentment

    “Jerry, there is some bad in the best of people and some good in the worst of people. Look for the good!” ~George Chaky, my grandfather

    I was seven when he said that to me. It would later become a guiding principle in my life.

    My grandfather was twenty-one when he came to the US with his older brother, Andrew. Shortly afterward, he married Maria, my grandmother, and they had five children. William, the second youngest, died at the age of seven from an illness.

    One year later they lost all of their savings during the Great Depression of 1929 when many banks closed. Two years afterward, my grandmother died from a stroke at the age of thirty-six.

    As I grew older and learned about the many hardships my grandfather and family of origin had endured, his encouragement to look for the good in people would have a profound impact on me. It fueled a keen interest in trying to understand why people acted the way they did. In retrospect, it also had a lot to do with my becoming a therapist and author.

    Easier Said Than Done

    As a professional, I am able to objectively listen to my therapy clients’ stories with compassion and without judgment. However, in my personal life, I’ve often struggled to see the good in certain people, especially some elementary school teachers who physically and emotionally abused me and male peers who made fun of my small size.

    In my youth I often felt humiliated, but not ashamed. I knew that for them to treat me that way, there must have been something wrong with them. But it still hurt.

    I struggled with anger and resentment for many years. In my youth, I was taught that anger was a negative emotion. When I expressed it, certain teachers and my parents punished me. So, I stuffed the anger.

    I Didn’t Know What I Didn’t Know

    When I was twelve, I made a conscious decision to build walls to protect myself from being emotionally hurt. At the time, it was the best that I could do. Walls can give one a sense of safety, but walls also trap the pain inside and make it harder to trust and truly connect with others.

    About that same time, I made a vow to myself that I frequently revisited: “When I get the hell out of this house and I am fortunate to have my own family, I will never talk to them the way my parents talked to each other and my sister and me.” I knew how I didn’t want to express my emotions, but I didn’t know how to do so in a positive and healthy manner.

    Stuffing emotions is like squeezing a long, slender balloon and having the air, or anger, bulge in another place. In my late twenties, individual and couples counseling slowly helped me begin to recognize how much anger and resentment I had been carrying inside. They would occasionally leak out in the tone of my voice, often with those I wasn’t angry with, and a few times the anger came out in a frightening eruption.

    “Resentment is the poison we pour for others that we drink ourselves.” ~Anonymous

    I heard that phrase at a self-help group for families of alcoholics. After the meeting, I approached the person who shared it and said to her, “I never heard that before.” She smiled and replied, “I’ve shared that a number of times at meetings where you were present.” I responded, “I don’t doubt that, but I never heard it until tonight!”

    The word “resentment” comes from the Latin re, meaning “again,” and sentire, meaning “to feel.” When we hold onto resentment, we continue to “feel again” or “re-feel” painful emotions. It’s like picking at a scab until it bleeds, reopening a wound.

    Nowhere have I ever read that we should like being treated or spoken to unfairly. However, when we hold on to resentment, self-righteous indignation, or other uncomfortable emotions, it ties us to the past.

    Holding onto resentment and grudges can also increase feelings of helplessness. Waiting for or expecting others to change gives them power over my thoughts and feelings. Many of those who I have held long-standing resentment for have died and yet can still have a hold on me.

    When we let go of resentment, it frees us from much of the pain and discomfort. As author John E. Southard said, “The only people with whom you should try to get even with are those who have helped you.”

    I’ve continued to learn how to set healthier and clearer boundaries without building walls. I’ve learned that I don’t have to accept unacceptable behavior from anyone, and I don’t have to go to every argument I am invited to, even if the argument is only inside my head.

    Still, for a long time, despite making significant progress, periodically the anger and resentment would come flooding back. And the thought of forgiving certain people stuck in my craw.

    When people would try to excuse others’ behavior with statements like “They were doing the best they knew how,” I’d say or think, “But they should never have become teachers” or “My sister and I had to grow up emotionally on our own!”

    Forgiving Frees the Forgiver

    For a long time now, I have started my day with the Serenity Prayer: (God) Grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. It has helped me try to focus on today and what I can control—how I think, feel, and act. Sometimes I get stuck, and all I can say is, “Help me let go of this anger.”

    “When we forgive, we heal. When we let go, we grow.” ~Dalai Lama

    I frequently hear the voices of many people who have helped, supported, and nourished me. I hear my wife’s late sister, MaryEllen, a Venerini nun, saying, “Jerry, the nuns treated you that way because that was the way they were probably treated by their superiors.” She validated my pain and planted another seed that slowly grew.

    I’ve also heard that “hurt people hurt people.” At times, I would still lash out at innocent people when I was hurting. I desperately wanted to break this generational cycle. I’ve learned that I don’t have to wait for other people to change in order to feel better.

    I am learning that everyone has a story, and I can practice forgiveness without excusing what they did or said.

    Forgiving is not forgetting. Forgiving liberates me from the burden of resentment, helping me focus on connecting with supportive people and continuing to heal. Letting go of resentment cuts the ties that bind me to the past hurts. It helps me be present today where I can direct my time and energy toward living in the present instead of replaying old pain.

    For the past year I have made a conscious effort to start each day by asking my Higher Power, whom I choose to call God, “Help me be grateful, kind, and compassionate to myself and others today and remember that everyone has their own struggles.” This has become one of the biggest turning points in my travels through life.

    You Can’t Pour from an Empty Cup

    I have learned that taking care of myself is one of the most effective ways to stop resentment from building up. When I neglect one or more of my needs over time, I’m quicker to snap, less patient, and more likely to take things personally. Who benefits from my self-neglect? Not me, and certainly not my spouse, children, coworkers, or others. When I am H.A.L.T. (hungry, angry, lonely or tired) or S.O.S. (stressed out severely), I usually don’t like being around me either.

    Self-compassion also weakens resentment’s hold, making it easier to be compassionate with others. Remembering that we’re all works in progress helps me treat myself and others more gently.

    I often think about my grandfather’s words, “Look for the good.” Self-care and self-compassion help me to see the good in myself as well as in others. I can dislike someone’s actions or tone of voice and also recognize they’re not really about me.

    I actually have a Q-tip (representing “quit taking it personally”) taped on my desk to remind me that someone else’s actions or words are likely the result of their own struggles. It helps me to “catch myself,” and instead of taking things personally, I try to remember that everyone has a story.

    Gratitude Puts Everything in Perspective

    There are days when I am faced with great or even overwhelming challenges, when it would be easy to default to anger—with other people or with life itself. On those days, I might notice a beautiful sunrise or feel touched by the love and kindness of others. Practicing gratefulness helps me to see life as both difficult and good. It is like an emotional and spiritual savings account, building reserves that help me to be more resilient during the rough patches in life, even when I feel wronged.

    Specifically focusing on what I am grateful for each day also helps me heal and gives me periods of serenity. It empowers me to try to approach my interactions with others in a warm and caring manner while respecting my and their personal boundaries, which keeps small misunderstandings from growing into resentment.

    Gratefulness and compassion toward myself and others take practice. It’s not a one-and-done thing. It’s like learning any new skill—the more I practice, the more it becomes a positive habit and feels more like second nature.

    Without repeated practice, old, undesirable thoughts and patterns can come back. When I neglect self-care, I am most vulnerable to quickly regress.

    I also need to be vigilant when things seem to be going well within and around me. I can become overly confident, trying to coast along and slack off from practicing gratitude and compassion.

    I have been unlearning many things that no longer work for me. I have unlearned “Practice makes perfect,” replacing it with “Practice makes progress, and I will do my best to continue to learn, grow, and be grateful, one day at a time.”

    I don’t always get it right, but every time I choose compassion, understanding, or gratitude over resentment, I am more at peace and more connected to everyone around me.

  • Sometimes Not Forgiving Is a Powerful Step Toward Healing

    Sometimes Not Forgiving Is a Powerful Step Toward Healing

    “You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. So use that anger. You write it. You paint it. You dance it. You march it. You vote it. You do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it.” ~Maya Angelou

    My mother left when I was five. Dad told me that for a little while I stopped talking, which is hard to imagine because now I never shut up.

    Apparently, I disappeared into myself. The doctors called it selective mutism. Two years later, my father’s second wife, Trish, would try to hug me, but I froze, arms pinned to my side, rigid against her affection.

    When I was older and I asked Dad what happened, he said he and Mom had been having problems, so she went on a bird-watching cruise to the Seychelles. During a stopover, she met a rugged, bearded, successful world wildlife photographer in the lobby of an African hotel. Frank and Patricia fell in love and immediately left their spouses and kids.

    In time, my mother became a talented photographer in her own right. She and Frank traveled continents to capture award-winning photos of animals for National Geographic and the like. Together, they published beautiful coffee table books.

    In 2004, both Patricia and Frank died within a month of each other. Frank from cancer, Patricia in a fiery car crash. My sister told me state troopers found a blood-stained snapshot of all five kids inside Patricia’s wallet. The picture was of my three brothers she’d had with my father and my sister and me, who she adopted as babies from two different moms, years after she got her tubes tied.

    “Girls,” she told my father. “I need two girls.”

    Years ago, I looked up Patricia’s obituary online. I found one attached to a blog written by a fan. At the end of a glowing description of her renowned career was a mention of Frank and that she was “mother to three boys.”

    No mention of me or my sister. Whoever wrote the obituary decided we didn’t exist, or maybe they never knew we existed. My sister, who’d stayed in touch with Patricia, seemed okay with the omission. She insisted the picture in Patricia’s wallet proved she thought about us.

    “And your comment on the blog was mean,” she told me.

    “With all due respect,” I wrote in the blog comments, “Patricia left her five kids” (I’m her youngest daughter) “to go sow her wildlife photographer oats. So yes, she was a talented photographer, but she wasn’t a mother.”

    In one picture I found of Patricia and Frank online after they died, Frank had his arm around her in front of a small white tent in Africa.

    She was leaning her head against his shoulder, smiling and content. Her face was plump and ruddy and naturally beautiful. Her short, dark, curly hair was windblown, and she was wearing a tan photo vest, khaki shorts, and chunky hiking boots.

    In her former life, Patricia was a full-fledged Audrey Hepburn type. An upper-middle-class, small-town New Jersey suburbanite with cinch-waisted elegant dresses, black heels, and pearls. In one Polaroid, my mother smiled for the camera as she carried a paper-footed crown roast to the perfect holiday table set for her husband and five kids.

    I was two months old when my parents adopted me. I never once resented my birth mom for giving me up (I found her in 2016, and we’re close).

    When I was old enough to understand how hard it must be for a woman to give up a child, I felt sorry for my birth mother. I knew women who gave up their baby did it out of love and desperation. And that it probably ripped their heart out forever. I knew long before I knew anything about my birth mom that giving me away wasn’t personal.

    It was selfless.

    But mothers who roam the globe with a lover, who give birth to three boys, get their tubes tied, and then adopt two girls to complete the set don’t leave their children for selfless reasons.

    They leave because motherhood was a mistake. Because domesticity felt like prison.

    “The ugly ducklings” Patricia once told my father about me and my middle brother. Mike stuttered and, like me, wore thick glasses.

    When I was older, I’d drag information out of my dad about Patricia.  He never wanted us to know Mike and I were her least favorites. That we weren’t perfect enough.

    During my sophomore year in college, I sent my mother a short letter. “I never understood why you left the family. Please help me understand.” Then I told her what was going on in my life.

    “It was your father’s lifestyle,” she wrote back. “The drinking and fancy parties and spending too much money. It wasn’t you. We were fighting all the time. It wasn’t about you kids.”

    Except that when you leave your kids, it is about the kids.

    That was our only contact until my late twenties during my youngest brother Chris’s wedding. Patricia smiled awkwardly as we walked toward each other in the hotel reception hall.

    We stood in front of each other but didn’t hug. She smiled, looked nervous, and told me, “Look how beautiful you are!” For the next few hours, we chatted about the wedding, my job, and my husband, who sat next to me.

    Frank sat between us at our table. Polite but protective. Privately, I was furious at how nonchalant my once-mother seemed. Of course there was too much to unpack, and a wedding wasn’t the place. But Patricia acted like we’d simply lost touch.

    A few years ago, when my husband and I were talking about that day, he told me that at some point I whispered to Frank, “Tell Patricia I want nothing to do with her.” I couldn’t stand the façade for one more second. So I went silent.

    I don’t remember saying that. But I’m sure I did. Because if my mother had wanted to be in my life, when she got my letter during college, she would have said so.

    In 1998, when I became a mom, the resentment for Patricia I’d managed to mostly bury resurfaced with a vengeance.

    I was horrified that a mother would leave her children. I felt a maternal protectiveness with my own daughter so visceral and overwhelming that rage bubbled up for my own mother.

    I pictured my five-year-old daughter coming home from kindergarten. Getting off the bus and running to hug her dad. I pictured her giggling and holding her vinyl Blue’s Clues lunch box. My husband handing her gummy snacks and a juice box in the kitchen. I pictured him scooping her up and sitting her on the couch next to him. My daughter’s happy feet swinging.

    “Where’s Mommy?” she asks as she sips her juice box and her blueberry eyes sparkle.

    “Honey, Daddy needs to tell you something. Mommy is um, gone, and she’s not coming back. It’s not your fault, honey, really, it isn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. But Mommy is, well, Mommy is confused even though she really, really loves you.”

    Years ago, I decided that I can’t do with my mother what therapists and clergy suggest when someone hurts us.

    “Work to forgive. It’s not about saying what they did was okay. It’s about letting go of anger and resentment. When you do, you’ll feel better. Stop giving over your power to bitterness.”

    But the abandoned five-year-old child in me refuses to forgive my mother. I could, but I won’t. Not because I’m consumed with anger. I’m not. Because forgiving, however that looks (journaling, prayers, letters to Patricia I never send), feels disingenuous.

    “I forgive you” feels like a lie.

    Over the years my hurt and anger toward my mother have shifted. Not to forgiveness exactly, but to a new understanding that only ambitious woman-turned-mothers understand.

    Because I was that mother.

    After I had my daughter, I left the workforce as a career professional, ambitious but constantly told daily during my pregnancy, “Once you see that baby, nothing, I mean nothing else will matter.”

    Three months after maternity leave, I went back to work part time. Six months later, I left for good.

    I’d been diagnosed with fibromyalgia and was racked with chronic body aches and brain fog. My babysitter and I were at odds, but mostly I left because I “should” be at home. My husband never pressured me. I pressured me. Judgmental parents didn’t help.

    During my mother’s era (the 1950s), after women graduated college, they got married and had kids. They never talked about their own needs. There were no mom group confessionals. Ambition and having an identity crisis weren’t things. Taboo.

    Women sucked up their angst and exhaustion with coffee and uppers, with martinis and Valium (“Mommy’s little helper”). Smile. Nod. Suffer.

    It wasn’t until the nineties that books came out about motherhood and ambivalence. About loving your kid but hating x, y, z. Suddenly the floodgates opened, and mothers got raw and honest. (Remember the book The Three Martini Playdate?)

    I struggled with being grateful but bored at home. With craving an identity outside of motherhood. Of course I loved my daughter. I went through surgery and months of infertility procedures to get her.

    My child was everything to me, but not everything for me. When I became a parent, gradually, a tiny part of me understood why my mother left.

    And in that, accepting my mixed bag of emotions softened my pain and rage.

    Unlike my mother, I’d had a thriving career and my own identity for over twenty years. But Patricia went from college to marriage to motherhood. She’d skipped over herself and who, it turned out, she wanted to be. Unburdened by domesticity, free to roam the world.

    I realized that if my mother had stayed, she would have resented her kids and the life she felt called to embrace. Her resentment might have been more damaging than the abandonment.  

    Still, forgiveness isn’t always the answer. Saying “I forgive you” has to feel sincere. It has to come from a place of genuine release. A willingness to see the harm and accept its wrongness, then fully let it go. Into the ethers, washed from our heart and psyche.

    My vision of my mother is less villain now and more a woman who should never have given in to society’s pressure to have kids. As soon as she got married, she pushed my dad to start a family, even after he told her over and over they weren’t ready financially.

    It’s ironic that after she died, she left a chunk of money to Planned Parenthood. She knew. Motherhood isn’t for everyone.

    Forgiveness is nuanced, yet it’s been taught throughout the ages as magical in its transformative powers. “Forgive, let go, and you’ll be free.” And more often than not, that’s true.

    But for me, I owe it to my five-year-old self not to completely forgive my mother. Gentle non-forgiveness is what I call it.

    Most of my destructive bitterness is gone. But if I’m honest, some anger still sits in me. Because I want it there. Protective. Righteous. But no longer seething. Anger wrapped in necessary truth. That my mother was selfish. That my mother did real damage.

    I guess holding on to some anger feels like I’m choosing to be an advocate for my five-year-old self. But mostly I think it’s to avoid the harder emotions of pain and rejection. And because letting go of all my anger feels fake.

    For me, being authentic sometimes means accepting that not all anger fades. And that it’s okay. (In fact, allowing anger instead of repressing it can actually be beneficial for our health, according to psychologist Jade Wu, so long as we don’t act aggressively.)

    In the wake of my mother abandoning our family, she left behind five broken kids, all of whom bear emotional scars. Scars that showed up in devastating ways. Addiction, cruelty, despair, loneliness, low self-esteem, hoarding, attachment issues.

    I know ultimately my mother needed to be free. That staying would have done more harm than good. But children aren’t puppies to surrender when caregiving gets too hard.

    There were dire consequences to my mother leaving to find happiness. Irreparable damage. I saw it. I felt it. Trust destroyed. And because of that, I can never fully forgive.

    “I pray you heal from things no one ever apologized for.” ~Nakeia Homer

  • How to Forgive That Earlier Version of You

    How to Forgive That Earlier Version of You

    “Forgiveness is an action, which your mind can never understand. Your mind’s sole intent is to balance the books. In issues of morality, it only wants to get even. Therefore, practice forgiveness every day if only in trivial matters. This is an excellent way of tempering the mind and empowering the heart.” ~Glenda Green

    Recently, seemingly out of nowhere, I had thoughts about a relationship that ended many years ago. I started to remember some things I had said, emotions I had felt, and things I had done. I cringed.

    What could suddenly make me think of those things now? I pondered it for a few minutes, then put it out of my mind. But when I had those same thoughts a few weeks later, I decided to take a deeper look.

    That deeper look took me back even further to another relationship now decades gone by. And I cringed some more. This time not just because of things I had said or done. This time I winced at the painful experiences I’d endured and the hurtful words others had said.

    Why this unexpected trip down memory lane?

    After much reflection, I concluded that those memories were surfacing now because I was still holding onto that energy somewhere in my body and energetic field. They were coming up now because they were ready to be released.

    For that, forgiveness for myself was required.

    I cringed at those memories because the person I am now, in this present moment, would not have said or done those things. Forgiveness was possible when I realized that the person I was then could not have done any differently.

    Here’s why: Our thoughts and actions are a function not only of our level of awareness but also the sum total of every assumption, belief, and experience we have had up until that moment. That past version of me was at a different level of awareness—one shaped by years of unprocessed abuse, anger, and trauma.

    The years of personal inner work I have done since that time, and the greater awareness that resulted, brought me to this current moment of forgiveness as the next step in my own evolution.

    It’s easy to beat ourselves up when we realize we haven’t completely let something go. I am certainly guilty of this. Many of us have done years of inner work, only to discover that a single issue could have multiple layers yet to clear.

    If we still have an emotional charge around an event or person from our past, we can start by forgiving the fact that we are still emotionally triggered by it.

    We can forgive ourselves for the role we played in that unhealthy dynamic. Then we can forgive that partner for the hurtful and destructive thoughts, words, and actions that occurred.

    Forgiveness does not mean condoning the actions of another. It also doesn’t mean forgetting what happened or putting a superficial coat of positivity on that person or situation.

    Instead, forgiveness is about accepting whatever happened and reclaiming peace for ourselves.

    Forgiveness is a gift we give to ourselves. We can forgive ourselves for not knowing better at the time. We can forgive ourselves for having carried the mental and emotional burden for so long.

    Those things, however unpleasant, happened for a reason. We gained valuable wisdom by having had those experiences. They shaped us as the people we are now.

    So, how do we forgive?

    Simply telling ourselves, “I forgive you” as a thought is often not enough. We need to believe that we deserve forgiveness and then feel that forgiveness, anchoring it in our body. The more senses we involve in this process, the better.

    Here’s a six-step process to release the stuck energy around forgiveness. For best results, go to a peaceful place in nature where you can take a walk.

    Step #1: Visualize the person or event as an energy you’ve been holding in the pit of your stomach. It is a hard, dense energy.

    Step #2: Begin your leisurely walk. As you walk, tune into this dense energy in your gut that represents that person or event that is calling for forgiveness. Feel it.

    Step #3: Now visualize the peaceful, vibrant, and loving energy coming from the natural world all around you—the sun, the wind, the trees, plants, and flowers. Breathe that energy into your body and feel it fill your lungs and nourish every cell. With a few more deep breaths, imagine that the healing energy from nature has filled your heart space as well.

    Step #4: Next, direct that loving, peaceful energy from your heart down into your belly. You can place a hand on your stomach to assist with this process. Visualize the loving energy from your heart and hand softening and breaking up those hard energies housed in your belly.

    Step #5: After a few minutes, as you continue walking, imagine that each step you take loosens the dense energy even more, allowing it to slowly move down from your belly and into your legs with each step. Continue walking until you sense that those particles of dense energy are completely out of your belly and are now at the bottom of your feet, ready to be released.

    Step #6: Find a place in nature to stop and remove your shoes. Place your bare feet on grass, soil, or sand. With your feet on the earth, visualize sending that energy from the bottom of your feet down into the earth, where it is instantly neutralized and composted. Give gratitude to the earth and to your body for assisting in this forgiveness and release process.

    This forgiveness practice is equally powerful—and important—when it is directed at yourself. Rather than bringing to mind a specific event or person from your past, you can visualize the person you once were, starting with ten years ago.

    Recall how you lived your life back then, including how you thought about yourself, about the people around you, and about the world at large. Notice what has changed from who you were then to who you are now.

    Forgive that earlier version of you. You did the best you could given your circumstances and level of awareness at the time.

    Visualize the energy of that former you moving down your body and out the bottom of your feet. Let nature take it for composting.

    Now breathe in more peaceful, healing energy from nature. Let it fill your lungs, your heart, and your belly.

    To conclude the practice, look around you with fresh eyes. Take in your surroundings as if for the first time. Feel appreciation for the stronger, wiser person you are now.

  • How to Embrace Elective (not Mandatory) Forgiveness After Trauma

    How to Embrace Elective (not Mandatory) Forgiveness After Trauma

    Do I need to forgive my abusive mother to let go of the past?

    This is the question I found myself grappling with when I started to recover from the pain of childhood neglect. For most of my childhood, I did not have access to a consistent adult who valued me. As a result, I believed that I had no value, and I lived my life according to this belief.

    I treated myself as an invaluable being by denying my needs, catering to everyone else’s, and engaging in relationships with people who sought to benefit from my low self-worth. My physical and mental health suffered. I felt trapped in a cage that I hadn’t built as a child but had taken up residency in as an adult.

    My childhood trauma had negatively impacted my life for over thirty years, and I desperately needed to discover what would help me to move forward. So many people praised forgiveness as a cure-all with moral superiority. They all encouraged  me to forgive my mother.

    Was forgiveness needed to recover from trauma? I turned to experts—therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, and doctors—to find an answer. Their responses? Mixed.

    One therapist told me, “If you can forgive, you should. Forgiveness is the key to healing.”

    A psychologist admitted, “I’ve seen clients who forgave and those who didn’t, and honestly, I haven’t noticed a difference in outcomes.”

    A doctor insisted, “Everyone needs to forgive. Holding grudges harms your mental and physical health.”

    And a psychiatrist offered a more nuanced view: “It all depends on what you need. If forgiveness were a proven cure-all, we’d recommend it universally.”

    The lack of consensus was frustrating. I was desperate to move forward, to let go of the past, and I needed to know—was forgiveness the answer? For the next three years, I delved into this question, interviewing clinicians, scholars, religious leaders, and trauma survivors.

    Here’s what I discovered: Forgiveness is not a one-size-fits-all solution, and it’s never something you should feel pressured or obligated to do. In fact, if you are forced into forgiving, it doesn’t work at all.

    The Power of Elective Forgiveness

    What I learned is that forgiveness can be incredibly freeing—but only if it’s optional, not a requirement. Elective forgiveness is about giving yourself permission to decide what’s best for you. It means you can forgive, not forgive, or even find that forgiveness happens naturally over time without the intention to forgive.

    For me, elective forgiveness became a way to take back control of my healing journey. I stopped worrying about whether I should forgive and instead focused on what I needed to feel safe, process my emotions, and move forward. This approach lifted the weight of mandatory forgiveness off my shoulders and allowed me to make space for whatever felt authentic in my recovery.

    How to Embrace Elective Forgiveness

    If you’re wondering how elective forgiveness might help you let go of the past, here are a few steps that worked for me:

    1. Prioritize your safety.

    For years, I didn’t feel safe having contact with my mother. To protect myself, I chose to establish boundaries, including a five-year estrangement, while we both worked on ourselves in therapy. Only when I felt safe did I consider reconnecting, and even then, forgiveness wasn’t on the table until I felt ready.

    To assess your safety, ask yourself:

    • Am I prioritizing my need to feel safe over the pressure to forgive?
    • Do I understand that forgiveness isn’t the same as reconciliation? (You can forgive without reconciling and vice versa.)
    • What boundaries do I need to feel safe, and how can I communicate them to my offender?

    2. Welcome unforgiveness.

    At one point, I questioned if my inability to forgive was a sign of failure. But I eventually realized that unforgiveness wasn’t a “stage” to get through—it was a valid and necessary part of my recovery.

    Unforgiveness can be a place to rest, reflect, and process your emotions. It doesn’t have to lead to forgiveness—it can be the endpoint or simply part of the journey. The key is to allow yourself to be where you are without judgment.

    3. Let yourself feel anger.

    For a long time, I suppressed my anger because I was taught it was a “bad” emotion. But denying my anger only kept me stuck. Once I gave myself permission to feel it, my anger began to evolve into grief and, eventually, a sense of peace.

    Here’s how you can work with anger:

    • Write a letter to the person who hurt you, expressing your anger. (You don’t need to send it.)
    • Notice where anger shows up in your body. Is it in your chest, your stomach, your fists? What happened when you notice how anger feels in your body?
    • Move your body in ways that match your anger—punch a pillow, stomp your feet, or go for a run. Ask your body, “What do you want to do with this anger?”

    4. Trust the process.

    I’ll admit I’m annoyed when I hear therapists say, “Trust the process.” I want to trust the outcome! But recovery doesn’t work like that. Elective forgiveness isn’t about achieving a specific result—it’s about allowing yourself to explore, feel, and grow without knowing exactly where you’ll end up.

    For me, trusting the process meant accepting that I might never forgive my mother, and I may also forgive her if that’s what I need. I’ve let go of my anger and found some empathy for her, but I don’t love her, and I don’t want her in my life. Is that forgiveness? Maybe, maybe not.

    The more important question is: Do I need to forgive to let go of the past? For me, the answer is no. I’ve let go without forgiving. What do you need to let go of your past?

    Finding What Works for You

    Your healing journey is your own, and no one can tell you what you need to do. There is not one experience or method that works for everyone. Forgiveness might be part of your process—or it might not. What matters most is that you honor your needs, your boundaries, and your emotions. Letting go of the past isn’t about following someone else’s roadmap—it’s about creating your own.

  • 4 Lessons I Learned from Leaving a Toxic Relationship

    4 Lessons I Learned from Leaving a Toxic Relationship

    “It takes strength and self-love to say goodbye to what no longer serves you.” ~Rumi

    I promised myself at a young age that when I got married, I was not going to get divorced, no matter what! My parents had divorced when I was five, and I knew that I didn’t want to put my kids through what I’d experienced as a child who grew up in a “broken” family. I wanted my kids to know what it was like to live in a house with both their parents present and involved in their lives.

    So, when I found myself seven years into my marriage, sitting in a therapist’s office wondering if my husband and I were going to make it, I had no idea what I would be facing if I had to navigate life, let alone parenthood, without my husband. How does one break free from emotional and verbal abuse without it permanently affecting who they are as a person?!

    All I could think about at the time was my three beautiful girls, who deserved to have happy parents in a happy home living a happy life!

    From the outside, our lives looked that way, but our reality was nothing of the sort. The yelling, the name-calling, the threatening, the withholding, and the verbal and emotional abuse were taking their toll on all of us until one day, after five years of trying to make it work, I had had enough.

    The night I will never forget, almost twelve years into my marriage, we were all sitting at the dinner table, and like every time before, with no warning, a switch flipped, and the yelling began. But this time, I packed up my things and I left. And this would be the last time I would leave; after the three attempts prior, I was lured back with promises that everything would be okay and we would make it work, but this time was different. I didn’t go back.

    Okay, I was out; now what?! Little did I know that leaving would be the easy part. Some of the most trying and challenging times of my life happened after I was able to finally break free. But I didn’t know that learning how to love myself again and believe that I was worthy of good things was going to be the real challenge, especially after what I’d faced.

    The storms that happened once my marriage was over would shake me to my core. One particular time was when my middle daughter, only thirteen at the time, was able to find her way down to Tennessee from central Wisconsin without anyone knowing where she was or if we’d be able to find her.

    My daughter despised me for breaking up her family and wanted to get as far away from me as she possibly could, even if it meant entrusting strangers to drive her in a car for fifteen hours while they made their way to Tennessee. Waking up the next morning after she vanished and reading the “goodbye” note she’d left on her bed, I honestly did not know if I would ever see her again.

    To say I was in panic mode would be an understatement for how I felt during the next twenty-four-plus hours while we—my parents, my friends, my siblings, the police, and even strangers—attempted to find my daughter. I can think of no worse feeling in the world than that of a mother who is on the verge of or has just lost her son or daughter. I wondered, “How can this be happening? Haven’t we already been through enough?”

    Exactly twenty-six hours after my daughter had found her way into that stranger’s vehicle, I received a phone call from a deputy in a county in Tennessee saying they had found her. Thank you, Lord, was all I could think—someone is watching over us!

    I realized then it was time to figure out how to love myself again and heal from my divorce so I could be more present for my daughters.

    Are there things I would have done differently? Absolutely! But you can’t go back and change the past; the only thing you can do is learn from it and do your best not to make the same mistakes going forward.

    The best thing I did for myself was sign up for a subscription that gave me access to hundreds of workout programs I could do from home (since I was the sole provider of my daughters at the time). As I completed the programs, I saw improvements in not only my body but also my frame of mind, which pushed me to want to be better and do better with each one after that—not just for me but for my girls also!

    Being able to push through tough workouts and seeing that I could do hard things that produced positive results helped build my confidence at a time when I needed it most! This newfound confidence boost encouraged me to keep pushing forward, even in the eye of the multitude of storms I was facing, which allowed me to start to heal.

    The workouts were just the beginning for me. Ultimately, they led me on a path that would help me discover how to love myself again.

    When I left my now ex-husband, I had no idea what I would be faced with until I was finally able to break free for good. But now that I have been out and have been able to transform my mind and love my life again, I realize just how incredibly powerful some of these lessons that I’ve learned truly are.

    1. Forgiving is the first step to healing. 

    A lot of people believe that forgiveness means you are condoning someone’s behavior, but that is not at all what you are doing when you forgive. Forgiveness is intentionally letting go of negative feelings, like resentment or anger, toward someone who has done you wrong.

    Choosing to forgive when you’re ready means that you are making a conscious and deliberate choice to release the feeling of resentment and/or vengeance toward the person who has harmed you, regardless of whether or not you believe that person deserves your forgiveness.

    You forgive to allow yourself to move on from the event, which also allows you to fully heal from it.

    2. Mindset matters.

    Your thoughts shape your reality, so if you think you don’t deserve good things, you won’t be able to attract them into your life.

    When in a toxic environment, negativity has a way of clouding your judgment, which makes breaking free more difficult. But once you leave and start focusing on a growth mindset and optimism, everything changes. When you focus on the good, the good gets better. This is the foundation of how I rebuilt my life after breaking free from the toxicity of my marriage.

    3. It’s crucial to listen to your gut.

    Ignoring your intuition leads to situations you regret more times than not. Learning to trust my inner voice, the one that whispers to me when something isn’t right, has been my greatest guide to making better choices.

    4. Positive change starts with self-love.

    Self-love is not just a buzzword. It’s the armor you wear against people who try to break you down. It’s telling yourself that you deserve better, even if you don’t fully believe it yet, and taking action to create better, even if it’s just one tiny step.

    For me, self-love started when I left my abusive ex-husband and then grew when I started taking care of my body. Sometimes even the smallest act of self-care can help us feel more confident in our worth.

    If you’ve been in an abusive relationship too, remember—you can rebuild and thrive in a life you love!

  • Breaking Free from Resentment: My Journey to Finding Peace

    Breaking Free from Resentment: My Journey to Finding Peace

    “Resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies.” ~Saint Augustine

    For years, I was unknowingly poisoning myself in nearly every relationship—whether romantic, work-related, or friendships. It always followed the same pattern: I’d form a deep attachment, throw myself into the relationship, and give endlessly, hoping that if I gave enough, they’d appreciate and value me.

    But instead, it felt like they just took and took, leaving me secretly seething with anger and frustration while I smiled on the outside.

    I was doing all the running—couldn’t they see that? Couldn’t they see how hard I was trying? Over time, the exhaustion would set in. Eventually, I’d burn out from the one-sided effort and just give up, walking away hurt and angry, convinced they had wronged me.

    Each time, I added another person to my mental list of people I couldn’t trust. With each disappointment, I trusted fewer and fewer people.

    To protect myself, I started putting up walls, convincing myself I didn’t need anyone. I told myself I was fine on my own. I’d always be the first to step in and help family or friends, but I wouldn’t allow them to help me. I refused to be vulnerable because, to me, vulnerability meant risking rejection. I believed I could do it all on my own—or at least that’s what I told myself.

    When COVID hit, isolation wasn’t a choice anymore—it was forced upon me. Suddenly, I was alone, with no one to turn to because I had pushed everyone away. That’s when I realized just how much resentment had poisoned my life.

    Fed up with the weight it placed on my life, I decided to confront it head-on. I let myself fully feel the resentment, allowing it to wash over me like a wave. It wasn’t easy—leaning into those emotions was painful, raw, and uncomfortable.

    But in that moment, I realized I wasn’t just angry with a few people—I was carrying resentment for almost everyone in my life, even my own mother! The bitterness had been poisoning me for years, and it became clear that it wasn’t just affecting my relationships—it was poisoning my peace.

    That’s when I made the decision to stop drinking the poison. I realized that I had been giving so much power to other people—power over my emotions, my happiness, and even my health. But I didn’t have to. I didn’t need to wait for anyone to apologize or change; I was responsible for my own healing, and I wasn’t going to let others’ actions control my life anymore.

    Self-Realization: The First Step to Letting Go

    Self-realization was the first, and perhaps most difficult, step in battling my resentment. For the first time in my life, I stopped running from the pain and leaned into it instead.

    I started using EFT (Emotional Freedom Techniques) to peel back the layers of emotions I had been burying for years. Through tapping on specific points, I was able to release trapped feelings and bring clarity to the surface. Each tapping session was like lifting a weight off my chest, but it was also incredibly uncomfortable.

    I had to confront memories I had long avoided and acknowledge the emotions I had hidden from for so long.

    What shocked me the most was realizing that I had never given anyone a chance to correct the wrongs I thought they had done. I assumed people knew I was upset, and when they didn’t magically pick up on it, I silently resented them.

    Saying that now, it sounds so ridiculous—how could I have expected people to read my mind? Yet for years, that’s exactly what I did.

    So, I began reframing the narrative. Instead of focusing on how others had let me down, I asked myself: What could I have done differently in those situations? How could I have influenced a different outcome?

    The more I reflected, the more I realized that I had the power to change the dynamics of my relationships. It was a breakthrough—I didn’t need to wait for someone to change or apologize. I had the power to heal myself.

    Testing My New Mindset

    Soon after this realization, I had an opportunity to test my new mindset. I had invited my mum and sister on a weekend getaway, something that meant a lot to me.

    A few weeks before the trip, they both backed out. The old me would have smiled and said, “No problem, that’s fine,” while secretly adding their names to my mental list of people who had wronged me.

    But this time, I did something different. I spoke up. I calmly explained how much it hurt that they were canceling on something so important to me.

    To my surprise, neither my mum nor my sister had any idea their actions would hurt me. They explained that, because I had always been so independent, they didn’t realize how much this trip meant to me.

    For the first time, we had a genuine, open conversation about our feelings, and it actually brought us closer.

    Instead of silently seething and letting resentment build, I communicated honestly, and the outcome was liberating.

    I realized that so much of the pain I had carried in the past could have been avoided if I had just voiced my feelings. That conversation was a powerful reminder that I have the power to shape my relationships, and that sometimes people just don’t know how we feel unless we tell them.

    Moving Forward: Letting Go and Staying Free

    After learning to let go of years of resentment, I realized that staying free required new habits. I needed to guard against falling back into old patterns, so I came up with a few strategies to help.

    First, I ask myself three key questions:

    1. Is this really worth my peace?

    2. Did they intend to hurt me, or could there be another explanation?

    3. What can I do differently in this situation?

    These questions help me pause, reflect, and reframe my thoughts before resentment has a chance to take root. I no longer jump to conclusions or internalize every slight.

    And then there’s my secret weapon—whenever I feel those old feelings of resentment bubbling up, I silently sing the Disney song “Let It Go” to myself!

    I know it sounds silly, but it’s incredibly effective. The moment I start humming that tune, it interrupts my spiraling thoughts and stops me from obsessing over whatever hurt I’m feeling.

    By the time I’ve finished the song in my head, the urge to hold onto those negative feelings has usually passed, and I can move forward with a clearer mind.

    It’s a lighthearted strategy, but for me, it’s a reminder that I have a choice. I can cling to the bitterness, or I can, quite literally, let it go.

    Letting go isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it. The next time you feel resentment creeping in, remember, forgiveness isn’t for them; it’s for you. It’s time to free yourself from the weight of carrying that poison.

  • Stop Telling Me to Forgive: Why This Isn’t Helpful

    Stop Telling Me to Forgive: Why This Isn’t Helpful

    “If you force yourself into forgiveness before fully feeling and moving through the layers of anger and hurt, it won’t be a clean and true forgiveness but rather a pseudo-virtuous form of bypassing and suppression.” ~Cory Muscara

    A while back, I was invited to a birthday party, and I was genuinely excited to go. But then I learned that someone I no longer associate with—a former best friend—would also be attending. The news stopped me in my tracks.

    This wasn’t just an “ex-friend.” She had once been one of the most important people in my life, but that changed when I went through a painful experience involving a narcissistic individual. When I needed her most, she didn’t stand by me. Instead, she stayed silent, offering no support as I endured gaslighting, invalidation, and manipulation.

    Letting go of the narcissist was clear and necessary, but recognizing that my best friend was no longer safe for me was much harder. It took more than a year of reflection, emotional processing, and painful physical symptoms for me to accept that this relationship was no longer healthy.

    So, I declined the party invitation, explaining to my friend that for my own well-being, I needed to skip the event. But instead of understanding, I received a lecture about forgiveness. “You need to hear the other side,” she said. “There are two sides to every story.”

    Her words stung. Not because forgiveness hadn’t crossed my mind, but because they dismissed the boundaries I had worked so hard to establish. Why is it that when we try to protect ourselves, others feel compelled to challenge our decisions?

    The Problem with Prescriptive Forgiveness

    In our culture, forgiveness is often upheld as the ultimate solution to pain. We see it in inspirational quotes and self-help advice:

    • “Forgiveness is a choice you make to move forward.”
    • “Not forgiving is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”
    • “Refusing to forgive keeps you chained to the past.”

    While these ideas sound wise, they often oversimplify the complex process of healing. Forgiveness is not always something you can will yourself into. For those who’ve experienced deep and profound trauma, the mind and body don’t always align. You can tell yourself to forgive, but your emotions and physical responses may resist.

    A More Compassionate Perspective

    For me, the turning point came when I discovered a different definition of forgiveness by Teal Swan:

    “When you’ve experienced profound trauma, the focus shouldn’t be on forgiveness but on healing by creating resolve and experiencing the opposite of the harm. As you heal and find love, safety, and protection elsewhere, forgiveness often arises naturally, as the disruption within you resolves on its own.”

    This shifted everything. It reminded me that forgiveness isn’t something you force; it’s something that flows naturally when healing has occurred. And healing often requires us to focus on what was missing during the hurtful experience.

    How to Support Someone Who’s Healing

    When a friend or loved one shares their pain, the best thing you can do is meet their needs in the moment, not prescribe forgiveness or reconciliation. Instead, offer actions that help counteract the harm they’ve endured:

    • If they feel unsafe, help them feel secure.
    • If they feel unheard, listen deeply.
    • If they feel betrayed, show them loyalty.
    • If they communicate a boundary, honor it.
    • If they feel dismissed, validate their emotions and experiences.
    • If they feel abandoned, stay consistent and present in their life.

    These actions create the foundation for healing, which makes forgiveness—if it comes—authentic and meaningful.

    Let’s Change the Conversation

    The next time someone shares their struggle, resist the urge to suggest forgiveness. Instead, focus on understanding their needs and providing genuine support. Healing doesn’t come from empty platitudes; it comes from connection, empathy, and actions that restore what was broken.

    Forgiveness isn’t a prerequisite for healing. It’s a byproduct of it. And when it happens naturally, it’s far more powerful than anything forced or prescribed.

  • How to Stop Living in Perpetual Guilt and Forgive Yourself

    How to Stop Living in Perpetual Guilt and Forgive Yourself

    “I have learned that the person I have to ask for forgiveness from the most is myself. You must love yourself. You have to forgive yourself every day. Whenever you remember a shortcoming, a flaw, you have to tell yourself, ‘That’s just fine.’ You have to forgive yourself so much until you don’t even see those things anymore. Because that’s what love is like.” ~C. JoyBell C.

    Have you ever wondered why, despite doing your best to heal and grow, you can’t seem to shake off the feeling of inadequacy and only see minimal results for all your efforts?

    Maybe, like myself, you don’t know you live with a very subtle yet perpetual feeling of guilt.

    The first time I became familiar with this chronic guilt was when I learned about self-awareness. At the beginning of my healing journey, I knew that to change anything, I must first be aware that it is there.

    Although this sounds good in theory and might work when we look at it from a logical standpoint, often it doesn’t apply when we are in the arena, going through the imperfections of the healing process.

    In his book Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself, Joe Dispenza explains how our bodies become addicted to certain chemicals we release based on the thoughts we think and the emotions we feel.

    If you are used to feeling guilt, your mind will unconsciously look for it in everything you do, so the body gets the hit.

    Going back to self-awareness, let me ask you this:

    What do you do when you discover a pattern you want to change or a toxic habit you want to heal—for example, that you people-please? Do you reach for understanding and compassion or judge yourself, feeling like you “should” act differently?

    Exactly.

    It’s almost like we think if we are harsh enough with ourselves, we will do better next time, soldier up, and get it “right.” While in the process, we are crushing our souls, unconsciously sabotaging our healing, and feeling smaller each day.

    As I dove deeper into exploring my guilt, sometimes the things I judged myself for blew my mind. I judged myself for how I felt, and once I observed it, I judged myself for judging myself for how I felt. Or I would use guilt to unconsciously validate the belief that I am not enough.

    Even when I made healthy decisions, like distancing myself from people who weren’t good for me, I would judge myself for bailing out and not staying around and trying harder. There was always a reason to feel guilty.

    It took me a long time to discover these patterns, and I still spot them today. It was and still is a part of my self-talk, although not as often as it used to be. However, while developing a more loving approach to my guilt, I realized that only a healthy dose of love, compassion, and understanding could heal me.

    We may find it challenging to spot chronic guilt since its presence is very subtle. If guilting and judging ourselves is our way of life, we may think, “This is how I always feel. It’s normal.”

    But it isn’t. We weren’t meant to swim in the waters of inadequacy or not-enoughness. If you think, “But what if I let the guilt go and relax, and then don’t feel the drive to do more, heal more, grow more?”

    Although guilt may seem like a fuel that pushes us forward, from my experience, it keeps our healing at bay. It takes away the feeling of being alive, motivated, inspired, and courageous. It makes us shrink and brings uncertainty and self-doubt.

    I remember a time when I started to have digestive issues right after I left my marriage and began the process of a divorce. The hardest things for me to overcome were the anger and guilt I felt for the things I’d allowed, although I wasn’t aware of this at that time. All I knew was that I was pissed. This, of course, made my digestive issues even worse.

    During this time, I began learning more about the connection between my gut and my mental and emotional health and how my anxiety, sadness, and stress affect the health of my physical body.

    One day, as I spoke to a friend on the phone, I broke down crying, knowing that I was responsible for how I physically felt.

    After I calmed down, we sat in silence for a few moments after she said, “Maybe it’s time you forgive yourself for it.”

    Her words immediately touched my heart, and I knew that I had to come back to the basics of my healing, which so often lay in forgiving myself. Since then, I’ve approached my digestive flare-ups and healing with an attitude of forgiveness. This has allowed me to ease into the moment and has helped me look at the whole situation with more love and understanding toward myself.

    I’ve realized that living with the attitude of forgiveness isn’t a one-time event but a mindset. And from everything I understand about this sacred and soulful practice, these are four steps I always follow.

    1. Get curious. 

    When you observe a behavior about yourself that you don’t like or experience what I call a healing relapse (the time when you act in old, unhealthy ways), instead of immediately reaching for judgment, get curious.

    Healing relapses are real, and they happen to all of us. You will take one step forward and two steps back. Eventually, it will be two steps forward and only one step back. At some point, you may move back to your old ways. You say yes when you want to say no and don’t reinforce your boundary, then feel a sense of resentment. It’s okay. Give yourself permission to be imperfect.

    A simple affirmation I use to remind myself to live a judgment-free life is, “Although I see myself going back to judgment, people-pleasing, seeking validation, etc., I choose to stop here, stay away from judgment, and get curious instead. It’s okay to make mistakes as I heal.”

    2. Ask yourself challenging but healing questions. 

    When you notice judgment or guilt and get curious instead of resentful or judgmental, turn inward and try to understand. Explore deeper aspects of your self-talk and see where you are still choosing guilt over kindness and compassion.

    Here are three common questions I ask myself:

    “How can I better understand the part of me that I want to judge?”

    “If receiving forgiveness is difficult for me, what wounds or pains do I need to attend to more to open my heart to healing?”

    “How can I see this moment of judgment as an opportunity for growth? What can I learn from it?”

    3. Use meditation as your self-forgiveness tool.  

    Meditation has been my number one tool in healing my wounds. I’ve used it for self-forgiveness, inner child, self-love, and more.

    A few years back, I was part of a weekly coaching group. Each month, we worked through different subjects, and at that time, the topic of the month was forgiveness. The person leading the group invited us to meditate together. I got comfortable in my seat and closed my eyes. We started with a series of breathing exercises to get grounded and relaxed. Then he asked us to repeat after him. The first thing he said was, “I forgive myself.”

    The moment I mentally uttered these words, I broke down crying while feeling an immense release. It’s like a giant burden fell off my chest. This was my first practice of self-forgiveness, and it made me realize how much guilt and judgment I carried around on a constant basis.

    Since then, using self-forgiveness meditation has become one of my favorite tools to work through my guilt.

    4. Heal negative self-talk with self-compassion. 

    As I mentioned earlier, living with the attitude of forgiveness is a way of life, not a one-time event.

    At first, you may find yourself going back and forth between judgment and understanding. This is a part of the process, so don’t feel discouraged. Instead, every time you notice that you are judging yourself, pause. You can also say “pause” to yourself mentally or out loud. This will interrupt the thought pattern of judgment that’s taking place.

    Then, attune to your negative self-talk and don’t resent it. You can use this compassionate statement, “I know you,” referring to your mind, “are here to protect me by offering thoughts that are known and familiar and feel safe. However, I choose to approach myself differently moving forward. I am worthy of compassion and forgiveness and choose to treat myself kindly.”

    —

    Healing from guilt isn’t a quick fix but rather a process of changing the core of the relationship you have with yourself.

    Be patient while navigating this journey, and when you notice yourself going back to your old ways, just take a deep breath and declare with all your heart: I am worthy of a guilt-free life, and this time, I choose forgiveness.

  • Forgive Yourself

    Forgive Yourself

  • How to Move Forward After Loss: The 3 Phases of Healing

    How to Move Forward After Loss: The 3 Phases of Healing

    “Whatever you’re feeling, it will eventually pass. You won’t feel sad forever. At some point, you will feel happy again. You won’t feel anxious forever. In time, you will feel calm again. You don’t have to fight your feelings or feel guilty for having them. You just have to accept them and be good to yourself while you ride this out. Resisting your emotions and shaming yourself will only cause you more pain, and you don’t deserve that. You deserve your own love, acceptance, and compassion.” ~Lori Deschene

    To this day, I still remember that call. I had just come home after an exhausting day at work, put on my sneakers, and went jogging. I left my phone on the table because I just couldn’t handle any more calls from my clients that day.

    As I was jogging, I was hit with a feeling that something was wrong. I tried to shake it, but I couldn’t. It was very pervasive, like an instinctive ‘knowing’ that something terrible had happened.

    I turned around and rushed home. As I got there, I picked up my phone and saw twenty missed calls from my mother and father. I didn’t even have to call back. I knew what it was.

    I grabbed my car keys and started driving to my mother. As I was driving, I called her, but she was so emotional and upset that she could barely talk. My dad picked up the phone and told me to come quickly. “Your brother…” he said. “Your brother is no longer with us.”

    At only twenty-eight years of age, two years younger than me, my brother had decided that enough was enough. He’d lived a life filled with severe anxiety and depression, which he tried to mitigate with alcohol and, I suspect, stronger substances.

    It wasn’t always that way, of course. He wanted nothing more than to fit in—to find his place in society and live his purpose. Nothing was more important to him than friends and family.

    But time after time, society failed him. First, by trying to push him through a “one-size-fits-all” education system that just wasn’t for him. Then, after he was diagnosed with depression, he wanted to get help and heal himself, but the doctors deemed him too happy and healthy to receive psychological care. He was dumped full of medication, which did nothing but worsen his physical and psychological condition.

    After years of trying to cope with depression and fighting a healthcare system that’s supposed to be among the best in the world here in Finland, he could no longer take it. He saw no other way out of the constant pain and suffering other than to end it all.

    My brother, as I like to remember him, was always outgoing and social. Nothing was more important to him than his friends and family. He was very open about this, and the last thing he would have wanted was to cause any pain or suffering for those closest to him. Or anyone else, for that matter.

    But there we were, our parents and me, trying to get a grasp of what had happened and how to deal with it.

    How Not to Deal with a Loss

    The first couple of days, I was devastated. I couldn’t eat or sleep or do anything other than just lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I had daily calls with my parents to make sure they were okay, but they did not know how to deal with it either. They could offer no solace to me, and I couldn’t offer anything to them. I had no idea what to do or how to handle my emotions.

    As days went by, I got back to my routines. My boss was very supportive and told me to take as much time off work as I needed. But I told him I was fine and said I had no intentions of taking any sick leave.

    That was the only way I could handle it: by working and taking my mind off what had happened. My method of dealing with my emotions was not to deal with them at all. I did everything I could so that I wouldn’t have to think about it: I worked, I partied with my friends, and I distracted myself by doing literally anything other than giving some time and thought to what had happened.

    Needless to say, that was not a healthy way to deal with the situation.

    Soon enough, I started to notice a total lack of energy. There were days when I couldn’t even get out of bed. I turned off my phone because I was so anxious that I just couldn’t deal with anything and just stayed in bed all day.

    If I wasn’t happy at my job before, now things seemed even more depressing. I could not find joy in anything and avoided social contact. I was irritable and had no motivation, even toward things that I previously enjoyed

    I thought things would improve with time. Time, they say, is a healer. Not in my case. It felt like things were getting worse by the day. I was checking all the marks of severe depression, and I seriously started to contemplate what would become of my life.

    Then one night, when going to bed, I was feeling so sick of it all. I was depressed and anxious, an empty shell of the joyful extrovert that I had previously been. I sighed, closed my eyes, and quietly asked myself, “What’s the meaning of it all? What am I supposed to do? How am I going to get over this?”

    To my surprise, I received an answer.

    “Help.”

    I don’t want to say that it was a divine intervention or anything like that. It was more like suddenly getting in touch with long-forgotten deep wisdom within myself. My purpose. The driving force behind my every action.

    Whatever it was, I understood at that moment that it would be my way out. The reason I’m not healing with time is that I’m supposed to help myself by learning how to overcome depression and anxiety and then help others do the same. It became very clear to me.

    I also understood the source of my problems. The depression, the anxiety—it was all because of my inability to deal with the emotions related to my brother’s demise. Heavy thoughts and emotions were piling up, thus making my mind and body react negatively.

    I vowed that I would find a way to release the thoughts and emotions related to what had happened to my brother. I decided to be happy again. Happiness and good mental health—those would become my guiding principles in life.

    The process of finding answers was an arduous but rewarding journey. I contemplated and studied, meditated, and sought advice for months, but eventually I found the emotional blockages that were holding me back and methods to release them in a healthy way.

    Now I want to share what helped me with you.

    The intention behind sharing my personal experiences is not to diminish or downplay the unique pain that you may be enduring. Loss affects each of us differently, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach. My aim when sharing this story and the following three phases of letting go is to offer solace or insights to each of you navigating your own paths of healing.

    1. Allow yourself to grieve.

    The first phase, and our first natural reaction to a loss, is grief, and the first mistake I made was not allowing myself to grieve.

    Grief, when allowed to be expressed naturally, is a powerful tool for dealing with loss. It is there to help you let go when you can’t otherwise. It allows you to express and process your emotions, including sadness, anger, and confusion, which are common reactions to bereavement.

    Elisabeth Kübler-Ross identified five distinct stages of the grieving process:

    1. Denial
    2. Anger
    3. Bargaining
    4. Depression
    5. Acceptance

    But, as you probably know, the process is highly individual. I never felt the need to deny what had happened. I wasn’t angry about it and wasn’t trying to bargain my way out of it.

    Instead, I repressed my grief. I used all the non-beneficial coping methods, such as overeating, drinking, working around the clock, and so on, and that led me to the fourth stage, depression, and got me stuck there for a long time.

    Fortunately, grieving is very simple. Just allow it to happen naturally, the way it wants to be expressed.

    If you allow yourself to express your grief, it will go away or at least decrease in intensity. My mother was, unknowingly, an expert at this. She said, “I have cried so much that now there are no more tears to be shed.” She had processed the grief and was done with it much quicker than I was.

    When you express your grief naturally, without trying to repress it or ignore it, you can eventually move through sadness. But if you have learned to repress your grief and not cry, your grief can grow into depression, as it did in my case.

    It can take time to heal and recover from the emotional pain and sadness associated with grief. And even though the situation can seem dark, recovering from loss, depression, and psychosomatic health problems is possible, as my story shows. When I finally allowed myself to grieve, I noticed a significant improvement in my mood. I felt lighter and gained more energy, and suddenly life didn’t seem all that dark anymore.

    2. Accept and forgive.

    The second phase is accepting what has happened and forgiving those involved, including yourself, to reduce anger and resentment and, ultimately, create a sense of peace.

    In essence, forgiveness is a two-fold process:

    First, forgive yourself. We tend to blame ourselves, even when there’s nothing we could have done. Odds are, you did everything you could. But especially if you feel like you made mistakes, forgiveness will be crucial for healing. Step in front of a mirror and look yourself in the eyes. Say, “I forgive you.” It will be uncomfortable and hard at first, but it will get easier and easier if you keep working at it.

    Second, forgive others. I firmly believe that, deep down inside, the people we have lost never wanted us to suffer. Forgive them, and forgive anyone you might be tempted to blame for their pain. You can do this by telling them in person or by closing your eyes, imagining them in front of you, and saying to them, “I forgive you.”

    In the case of my brother, it was easy to see that his actions were not intended to cause distress or grief to others. He acted the way he did because it was the only way he knew how to deal with his pain and depression.

    I could have blamed his actions for my depression, but I understood that he was in constant pain and agony and why he saw no other option.

    It would have also been easy to blame my parents for what had happened. They had their problems— including divorce and depression—which heavily affected my brother and me. But the thought never crossed my mind. I love my parents, and I’m sure they did everything in their power to raise healthy and happy children.

    Forgiving myself was the hardest part. I believed that if only I had visited my brother more, given him more of my time, and just listened to his worries, I could have somehow helped him heal. It took time and deep self-reflection to understand that we cannot change other people’s minds. At best, we can help them change their minds, but we cannot make decisions for them. Each of us walks our own path through life, and our choices are ultimately our own to make.

    There’s nothing I could have done that would have made a difference. I’ve accepted that now and forgiven myself and everyone else.

    3. Move forward with purpose.

    For me, the most crucial part of moving on is finding meaning and purpose in the loss. It can be as simple as reflecting on the positive aspects of the relationship, the lessons learned, or the impact your loved one had on your life.

    In my case, I decided to dedicate my life to teaching what I had learned so that no one would have to suffer the same fate as my brother. It was a deep calling that gave meaning to my brother’s life and a purpose to what I had to go through.

    It is my way of honoring his memory, and it feels like it finally gave the meaning to my brother’s life that he was always seeking. He never found his place in this world, but now he would help others live a happy life filled with purpose through my telling of his story.

    The Beauty of Life Lies in its Ephemeral Nature

    One truth about life is that it will eventually end. Consequently, throughout our lives, we are bound to encounter loss.

    Even though letting go and moving on after a loss is undoubtedly one of the hardest things to do, it’s what we should do. There’s no point in giving up on life just because we lost someone dear to us. We can grieve for as long as we need to, but eventually, acceptance and forgiveness pave the way for moving forward, reclaiming joy, and honoring the memory of those we have lost.

    And please remember: There is always hope, and there are those who wish to help. So dare to ask for support whenever you feel like things are too much for you to handle. You don’t have to go through it alone.

  • Forgive Yourself Anyway

    Forgive Yourself Anyway

  • Guidance for Growth: How to Forgive and Live Without Regrets

    Guidance for Growth: How to Forgive and Live Without Regrets

    “New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.” ~Lao Tzu

    Once believed to be conflict-free, our relationship disintegrated on a fateful evening in May 2007, revealing the facade of our supposed happiness. We always said, “We’ll be all right because we never fight.” Well, that belief shattered on my dad’s fifty-fourth birthday. What was supposed to be a dinner with my parents turned into a nightmare and marked the beginning of a harrowing ordeal.

    My then-husband, bleeding from a head wound after a visit with a friend, turned our evening into chaos. As I attempted to bandage him, unease set in, quickly escalating after we returned home. A heated argument led me to leave defiantly, only for him to react violently, breaking a chair in his rush to stop me.

    Our confrontation spilled onto the porch, where I suffered a head injury requiring sixteen staples after a fall caused by him. Despite my attempts to escape, he overpowered me, taking my keys and phone. The ensuing drive was a frenzied blur of speed and violence, ending with me jumping from the moving car for my safety after being punched in the face three times.

    The night culminated at my father-in-law’s house, who, while dismayed, reluctantly intervened. I eventually found myself in the emergency room, a grim closure to a day marked by undiagnosed sociopathy and substance abuse.

    The agonizing events of that evening marked a shocking departure from what I had known of our relationship, standing as the sole instance of violence in what otherwise appeared to be a peaceful union. His sudden outburst of aggression revealed the hidden depths of troubling behavior, a reality rooted in psychological complexities I was painfully unaware of until later on.

    Ironically, my role as a wedding coordinator for an upscale hotel chain made the situation even more surreal. Less than a year after exchanging vows of love and commitment, I found myself concealing bruises—stark, physical reminders of betrayal—while facilitating celebrations of love for others.

    This contrast between my work life and personal experience not only deepened my resolve to seek healing but also highlighted my resilience in facing life’s unpredictable challenges, further motivating my journey toward healing and empowerment.

    The Awakening: Realizing the Need for Change

    That evening blindsided me. Until that day, violence had been absent from our life together, making the ordeal not only a physical but a psychological shock as well. It was this abrupt confrontation with violence that compelled me to reassess everything I believed about our relationship.

    In the immediate aftermath, the pressing need for safety and healing took precedence over everything except understanding why. Reflecting on that night, I realized it wasn’t about recognizing a pattern of escalation but understanding how profoundly this single event altered my life and perception.

    A Year of Transformation…and Loss

    In the months following that dreadful night, I began a journey toward healing and self-discovery, and just as I started to find my footing, another wave of grief hit with the passing of my mom less than a year later. This “double whammy” of loss and trauma tested my resilience to its limits!

    My mom’s passing not only compounded the emotional turmoil but also served as a poignant yet factual reminder of life’s fragility and the importance of healing and growth. It forced me to confront my grief head-on, integrating this pain into my journey of recovery.

    In contemplating the night of domestic violence and then the passing of my mom, I realized that the path to healing is not linear but a mosaic of our experiences—each piece, no matter how painful, contributes to the whole of who we are.

    The lessons learned in the shadow of loss and violence illuminated the strength within me, guiding me toward a deeper understanding of forgiveness and living without regret.

    The Path to Healing: Embracing A New Beginning 

    My healing journey began with the unwavering support of family and friends, whose presence became my sanctuary. Recognizing the depth of my trauma, I sought professional help, engaging in therapy sessions that offered a safe space to unravel and confront my experiences. That led me to the doors of Domestic Violence Intervention Services (DVIS), where counseling sessions became a cornerstone of my recovery, providing me with the tools and understanding needed to rebuild my sense of self.

    To navigate the mental distress and anxiety that clouded my days, I began taking (albeit for a short time) an antidepressant to stabilize my emotions. My quest for understanding led me to the pages of The Sociopath Next Door by Martha Stout, which shed light on the perplexing behaviors of my then-husband. Her book offered clarity on the nature of sociopathy and its impact on our lives.

    Seeking answers to deeper, existential questions, particularly the “death” of my mom at the young age of fifty-four, I dove deep into Everything Happens for a Reason by Mira Kirshenbaum. Her book offered much-needed perspectives on why things happen in my search for meaning in the face of inexplicable loss.

    Journaling became a tool for reflection, a way to pour out my thoughts and start seeing my experiences as the seeds of a spiritual awakening. This introspection led me to explore self-discovery systems, such as numerology, which opened new avenues of understanding and self-awareness.

    A pivotal moment in my healing was attending a spirit fair, where a medium conveyed a message from my mom just two months after she passed! This emotional yet enlightening encounter provided immense comfort and an intense motivation to keep moving forward, a powerful reminder of her enduring presence and guidance in my journey toward a new beginning.

    The Power of Forgiveness

    Forgiving my then-husband, and perhaps more challengingly, myself, was not an act of forgetting but a conscious decision to release the hold the anger and resentment had on my heart. After discovering, through James Van Praagh, that forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves, forgiving us both became crucial to my healing journey because it allowed me to reclaim my peace and move forward without the heavy chains of past grievances.

    The Strength in No Regrets

    Embracing a life without regret has always been my philosophy, but this ordeal deepened its meaning. It taught me to actively seek lessons in every challenge, make peace with the past, and approach the future optimistically. This mindset has empowered me to live more purposefully, reminding me of the strength of facing life with an open heart and a fearless spirit.

    Guidance for Growth: Steps to Heal and Thrive

    Learning to forgive and live without regret are transformative practices that can change your life. Here are some ways that I found useful that may help you in your journey:

    Cultivating Forgiveness:

    Take time to reflect on your situation so you can confront your feelings directly.

    Just as I had to face the reality of my then-husband’s undiagnosed mental health issues and the violence it led to, taking time to reflect on how deeply this affected me was my first step toward healing. Similarly, acknowledging the hurt it caused you and allowing yourself to feel it fully is crucial in your journey toward forgiveness.

    Try to see your situation from the other person’s perspective.

    Understanding the role of sociopathy in my then-husband’s actions didn’t excuse them but helped me to see the situation from a broader perspective. While it’s challenging, especially in cases of abuse or betrayal, attempting to understand the ‘why’ behind someone’s actions can be a step toward releasing anger.

    Write a letter to the person you’re forgiving (you don’t have to send it) expressing how their actions affected you and consciously decide to let go of the burdens that hold you back.

    After I wrote mine and wished him well, I burned it during a full moon ceremony.

    Choose yourself and recognize that holding onto anger and resentment only binds you to the past and the person who hurt you.

    By choosing to forgive, you’re choosing your own peace, freedom, and well-being over remaining tethered to painful emotions and those who’ve harmed you. Forgiveness is an act of self-love and self-preservation that allows you to reclaim your power and move forward with grace and strength.

     Living Without Regret:

    Recognize what’s within your control and let go of what isn’t.  

    While I miss my mom more than I can say, I’ve come to see her passing as a pivotal influence that has molded me into the person I am today. This kind of acceptance is key to living without regret and moving forward in peace.

    Take responsibility for your choices and learn from your mistakes without letting them define you.

    I reminded myself that while I experienced violence, I was not a victim of it. Choosing to seek help after leaving the relationship was a crucial and empowering decision that led me to where I am now. Acknowledging that each decision, including reaching out to DVIS, played a role in my journey reinforces the importance of owning our choices for a regret-free life.

    View every experience as a learning opportunity.

    The day I found myself concealing bruises at work taught me about the stark realities of appearances versus truth. Every challenge offers a lesson, so ask yourself, “What can I learn from this?” to transform regrets into lessons for growth.

    Practice mindfulness.

    Both journaling and receiving an angel message from my mom taught me the importance of being present and finding peace in the NOW. Being mindful can help reduce dwelling on past mistakes or worrying about the future.

    Keep a gratitude journal and regularly write down things you’re thankful for to shift your focus from what’s missing or what could have been to an appreciation for what is.

    I know how grateful I was for the support of family and friends, professional guidance, and moments of peace that helped shift my perspective from loss to appreciation, a practice I recommend to anyone navigating their healing journey.

    Engage in activities that bring you joy and fulfillment, leaving little room for regret.

    Closing Thoughts…

    As you turn the pages of your own life, remember that every challenge is an opportunity for growth, every setback a chance to rise stronger. Let my experiences shared here remind you that you are not alone in your struggles and that within you lies an unbreakable spirit capable of overcoming any obstacle.

    Embrace each day with hope and courage, knowing that in the heart of adversity lies the seed of your greatest strength. Let it grow, let it shine, and let it guide you to your most empowered self.

  • What Forgiveness Really Means and Why It’s the Ultimate Freedom

    What Forgiveness Really Means and Why It’s the Ultimate Freedom

    I used to loathe the word “forgiveness.”

    What it meant to me was that someone could hurt me, lie to me, or even abuse me, say “sorry,” and I was supposed to pretend like nothing happened. If I didn’t, they would say to me, “I thought you were a forgiving person,” or “What? I already said I was sorry.”

    It felt awful, outside and inside.

    I had one relationship that I knew very well wasn’t good for me and I wanted out of, but my misunderstanding of what the word “forgiveness” meant kept me stuck there for a very long time.

    The person would lie repeatedly and never come clean. When things came out (as they often do), the person would claim to be sorry or that they were “getting better” and then expect me to just go on as if nothing had happened.

    My trust for them was eroded, and by staying there, that spilled over into my trust for other people and even myself. My self-worth also became depleted. I felt powerless because I believed that, in order to be a good, forgiving person, I had to accept as many meaningless “sorries” as this person was going to dribble out. I lost motivation and became depressed and drained.

    It felt like forgiving was designed to punish the person who was hurt.

    I had heard the phrases “forgiveness sets you free,” and “forgiveness is for you, not them,” and neither made any sense because I certainly did not feel free, and there appeared to be nothing in it for me to keep allowing their nonsense.

    Well, it didn’t make sense because “forgiveness” wasn’t what I believed it was at all.

    One day, I looked it up in the dictionary.

    Forgiveness definition: “to let go of anger and resentment towards a person or event from the past.”

    Forgiveness is that—just that. Ceasing to carry around resentment or anger inside of yourself for what happened in the past.

    It doesn’t say you’re supposed to pretend it never happened.

    It doesn’t say you’re supposed to trust the person again after they broke your trust, just because you have forgiven them.

    It doesn’t even say you have to speak to them again.

    Ever.

    Forgiveness IS for you.

    Forgiveness DOES set you free.

    Forgiveness means you stop carrying around the pain of the past inside of you. So that you don’t bring it into every new place you go, allowing it to bubble up and explode on people who had nothing to do with causing you injury.

    If you decide to forgive a person but not speak to them again because you know you can’t trust them, that’s 100% wise to do and doesn’t mean you’re unforgiving. It means your trust was broken, and they gave you no reason to think it would not be broken again, so you decided to separate. Or maybe they made promises and broke them again and again until your trust for them was entirely demolished.

    Forgiveness doesn’t have to mean reconciliation.

    Forgiveness means you accept that what happened has happened and can’t be changed. It means if a memory pops up or gets triggered, you’re not fired up by that anger and resentment and completely disempowered in that moment as if you were still living in the past.

    It isn’t instant, nor easy, and there is a process to it that involves acceptance, reflection, wisdom, and presence before the release. It takes time. It takes work. Memories can catch you off guard, but once you are aware of what is happening, you can use the process on them and dissolve them as they come.

    Knowing what forgiveness is—real actual forgiveness—and applying it to my life has been absolutely life-changing.

    I no longer poison present days with past pain. I can hear a song that reminds me of a painful time in the past and not get set off at all. I didn’t forget what happened, but it no longer has power over me.

    This is the gift of forgiveness. It’s not for them, about them, or dependent on them. It is for you, about you, takes place within you, and gives you your life back. It gives you and all those who you choose to have in your life now the best version of you, unencumbered by haunting memories.

    You don’t forget, you don’t erase, you heal.

  • Hate Is Just Another Way of Holding On

    Hate Is Just Another Way of Holding On

  • How to Let Go of the Past and Forgive

    How to Let Go of the Past and Forgive

    “Forgive others not because they deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve peace.” ~Jonathan Lockwood Huie

    As a child, I faced constant physical and mental abuse.

    Several classmates would beat me up in the schoolyard, hitting and kicking me. They also chased me down the streets to my home when school was done for the day. I had to cycle at my fastest to avoid another beating. It felt like I had to go through a war zone every day.

    Besides the physical abuse, these children also constantly criticized and ridiculed every single thing I did. This made me feel incredibly insecure about a lot of things, including the way I walked and talked.

    In short, they did everything in their power to make my life as miserable as possible. They succeeded: I became an incredibly unhappy and anxious child. I came back home crying countless times.

    Despite efforts by teachers and my parents to help, all of this lasted for five long years.

    It only ended because we all went to different high schools and classes after finishing primary school, not because they ever showed remorse. Still, I managed to let go of what happened and even forgive them. In fact, I have flourished and live a happy and fulfilling life nowadays. Here’s how I achieved this.

    First, Forgive Yourself

    We are often our own worst enemy. Instead of showing empathy and compassion to ourselves, we tend to be overly critical. When I was being bullied, I blamed myself. I thought if they were targeting me, there must have been something wrong with me, which meant I had to change myself to prevent further bullying.

    Now, I know that isn’t true, and there is simply no excuse to bully anyone. The responsibility for their actions lies with the kids who hurt me, not with me.

    At that time, I was simply being my authentic self, and that’s a great thing, not a reason to bully myself.

    You’re likely being harder on yourself than on others. So, to counter this, imagine one of your friends faced the exact same thing you’re facing. How would you respond to that friend?

    You’d probably show support and be kind to them. Now say those kind words to yourself. You deserve empathy and compassion just as much as your friends do.

    “Nothing can harm you as much as your own thoughts unguarded.” ~The Buddha

    Realize That Those Who Did It Are Gone

    One of my favorite stories about the Buddha is about a man who spat on his face and insulted him. After the Buddha did not lash out at the man, but instead remained calm and kind, the man returned home confused. The next day, he returned to the Buddha. He hadn’t slept all night, haunted by his own behavior and the unexpected reaction from the Buddha. He begged the Buddha for forgiveness.

    Instead, the Buddha explained to him that there was nothing to forgive. The person the Buddha was talking to was not the same person who spat on his face the day before; the man had changed during the night because of his repentance, and the man who spat was no more.

    In the same vein, I believe that after all that time, the people who made me suffer as a child have changed. They were children at the time, but have now grown up to be adults. I have changed so much between then and now, and so have they. Those children who did this to me are no longer here. So is there really someone to forgive anymore?

    I imagine this mindset is harder to adopt if you feel the person who hurt you hasn’t changed. In that case, it might help to remember that people who bully or abuse are often in great pain themselves (which is often why they bully or abuse). This doesn’t condone their mistreatment in any way, but it might make it easier to release your anger toward them.

    Take Back Control

    Another way that I let go and forgave is by taking back control. If you let bad experiences in the past guide your present and future, then you give control to those experiences and the people who caused them.

    I’d highly recommend switching your perspective: Yes, those terrible experiences happened, but if you let them define who you are now and who you will be, then don’t you suffer twice? Once in the past, and again in the present.

    Instead, you could take back control of your present and future by letting who you are right now guide your actions. I find it empowering to take control of my life and create my own path.

    One way to do this is by crafting your own identity. Instead of identifying myself as a victim, I view myself as a victor. Someone who endured hardship and only got stronger through that suffering. By creating my own helpful identity, I take back control.

    Appreciate the Gains

    Another shift of perspective is by looking at how the experiences have positively shaped you instead of focusing on the suffering. Of course, there are situations where nothing has been gained, but in my case, there were certainly gains.

    For example, the abuse made me tough. Nowadays, I’m not easily impressed by problems, knowing I have faced much worse and came out on top. It has also made me more empathic, having lived through a lot of suffering myself. And my suffering brought me to Buddhism, where I learned about the nature of suffering and the path to end it.

    What have you gained from your hardships?

    Focus on the Present

    The past is dead. It can’t be changed, and it’s no longer here. So why keep thinking about the past when there is the present where you can actually do something and change your life for the better? After all, it’s only in the present that you can act.

    A healthier approach toward the past is to look for lessons you can learn. If you approach the past that way, it can have a positive impact on your present and future. For example, I learned that it’s of great importance to stand up for yourself. That’s a lesson I take to heart and apply almost daily.

    Another way you can focus more on the present is by practicing mindfulness and meditation.

    “Anxiety, the illness of our time, comes primarily from our inability to dwell in the present moment.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Let It All Out

    It’s completely normal to have intense emotions about bad experiences in the past. So don’t hide from those emotions but let them out instead. There are many ways to do this, like writing in a journal or drawing or making music. Pick the method that suits you best.

    By letting your emotions out, you better understand what you’re feeling and why you have those emotions. This creates an opportunity to find peace within yourself.

    Find Support

    Sometimes you can’t let go and forgive on your own. In that case, it can be of great value to find someone you trust and who can support you. This can be a friend, family member, counselor, or anyone willing to help you get through your hardship.

    In my case, I found a lot of support from my mother and best friend. They helped me process my feelings and gave me a new perspective when I was struggling.

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possessions—we cannot be free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    These are the steps that helped me let go and forgive. Remember that this is often a lengthy process, so don’t give up when you don’t see results immediately. If I can do it, so can you. The best of luck!

  • We Cannot Conquer Hate with More Hate (Only with Love)

    We Cannot Conquer Hate with More Hate (Only with Love)

    “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

    I suspect that most people are victims of hate. Wars happen because of hate. Your mental, emotional, and even physical balance is lost because of hate. Hate destroys joy and happiness.

    Think about the last time you felt intense emotions of hate—for another person, for a group of people, or even for yourself. Just thinking about it will make you feel not so nice. Now, as you think about those feelings of hate, simply observe yourself.

    Observe your mind, your thoughts, your body, your breath; observe how you feel in your gut. You will notice how they all go out of balance.

    If someone were to do an experiment with you while you were feeling these emotions of hate, and plug up various monitors to you, they would observe how your blood pressure, your heart rate, your physical body, and your neurons were all going out of balance.

    But we don’t need to do any of that because we can feel it. We don’t need scientific experiments to prove that hate affects every part of us.

    And anything that affects us individually affects the whole world. Because the world is made of many more people like us. You and I aren’t different at all; we are both the same.

    And whatever you see in the external world is a manifestation of our collective inner state. Whenever wars happen, they reflect the inner hate and anger within people. But can hate be destroyed with more hate?

    Imagine a can of fuel has spilled and caught fire, and this fire threatens to burn an entire forest. Can you put this fire out by pouring more of the same fuel?

    If you pour more of the same fuel, what will happen? The fire will keep becoming bigger and bigger until it consumes everything in its path.

    What you need to do is find some other material. In the forest you can take some soil and use it to put out the fire. If there is a group of friends and they all take the soil and pour it over the fire, the fire will be put out faster.

    The same applies to hate. Hate can’t be destroyed with more hate.

    The only way to end wars or make peace with people who’ve hurt us or who hold opposing worldviews is to recognize that we are fundamentally all the same, and we need to work together for mutual growth and progress. The only way to resolve conflict is to become aware of our higher nature.

    I’ll share an example from my own life.

    My grandparents were very wealthy. They came from a region called Sindh, and for thousands of years my ancestors have been traders and travelers.

    Maybe you’ve heard of the Indus Valley civilization.

    They used to travel in caravans across the world to trade spices, dry fruits, gems, carpets, and handicrafts.

    They had huge mansions, horses, gold, precious gems, and lots of material wealth. But one fine day, India was partitioned by the British into two countries—India and Pakistan.

    Sindh, where they were living, became a part of Pakistan, and they were forced to leave everything and come to this side of India. They had to make a decision between continuing to practice their faith or holding onto their material wealth. They decided to continue practicing their faith.

    When they came to India, with nothing, they were labeled as refugees. They had to live in camps where over 200 people shared a single toilet.

    But even then, they understood the power of words and petitioned the government not to call them refugees but “displaced people.”

    They were not looking for a handout or ‘refuge.’ They did not want people to feel sorry for them or treat them as victims.

    Growing up, they made sure they didn’t teach us to hate anyone. They didn’t ask us to hate the British nor did they ask us to hate the people of Pakistan. Instead, they taught us to focus on learning and growing ourselves.

    They taught us to be loving, to be compassionate, and to move ahead. This changed our perspective on so many things.

    In fact, they taught us that the whole world was ours. We are not restricted by geography. They taught us to laugh and live life with gratitude every moment.

    Today when I look back, I feel blessed and lucky that they didn’t teach me to hate. If they had, I would be stuck in a cycle of hate instead of moving ahead.

    We all have energy; what matters is where we focus and use it.

    Right now, set the intention to replace your hate with love, whether it’s hatred for someone else or for yourself.

    Empathy, understanding, and forgiveness have immense power. The moment you try to understand or forgive you are no longer caught in the clutches of hate. Maybe someone wronged you, maybe you felt hurt at that moment, but that moment is gone. And there’s a good chance they didn’t mean to hurt you; they were just hurting inside and didn’t realize what they were doing.

    The same is true for you. Instead of blaming or berating yourself for your mistakes and shortcomings, recognize that you’ve always done the best you could given your background, conditioning, and coping skills.

    Self-hatred won’t change the things you’ve done in the past; it will just make you more likely to do things you’ll feel bad about. And hatred toward other people won’t change how they are; if anything, hateful words and actions will just inflame them more—but with understanding and kindness, we actually have a chance of learning and growing together.

    Hate is like a chain; it binds you. The moment you forgive, you are cutting those chains to the past. You are free.

    The moment you forgive, you create a chance for love to grow. Send love to everyone. Because love has the power to win any battle, even the one within.

    And if this is hard for you, be kind to yourself. Allow yourself time to heal. Sometimes allowing yourself to be where you are is the most loving thing you can do for yourself. And that love for yourself can eventually expand to include love for the people who’ve hurt you (which doesn’t have to mean condoning their actions or allowing them to hurt you again).

    One beautiful exercise is to consider everyone a part of yourself. Will you hate your left hand just because you love your right hand more? They are both part of you. Yes, sometimes your left hand might get hurt, but you won’t hate it.

    You will, in fact, take better care of it. You will be more loving and attentive.

    Similarly, if you look at everyone as a part of this single existence, it will be easier to look at them with love.

    Everyone has an inner light, though sometimes you have to look a little harder to find it. It all starts with love.

    Before I go, I want you to think of the most loving experience you have ever had. When did you feel immense love? This beautiful feeling of love that transcends all boundaries. Love that transcends all barriers.

    Close your eyes and feel this love.

    Then, when you feel it, observe yourself and notice how everything feels balanced and in a state of bliss.

    Mentally, you will feel creative. Physically, you will feel this beautiful energy. And emotionally, you will feel nourished. That’s what love does to you.

    The best glimpse into your own inner spirituality is through love.

    The world needs a lot more love, and each one of us has the potential to create a more loving world by starting with ourselves.

    That’s how we truly end hate—within ourselves and in the world: with love.

  • We Don’t Know What Tomorrow Will Bring

    We Don’t Know What Tomorrow Will Bring

  • Forgiveness Is for Past Reconciliation

    Forgiveness Is for Past Reconciliation

  • Be Kind to Yourself in the Year Ahead

    Be Kind to Yourself in the Year Ahead

  • I Forgive Forcefully (An Act That Takes Great Strength)

    I Forgive Forcefully (An Act That Takes Great Strength)

    “You don’t have to rebuild a relationship with everyone you have forgiven.” ~Unknown

    “Forgive” and “forcefully” are not two words I have ever joined together before.

    My idea of forgiveness involved kind and gentle meekness.

    Goodness.

    Altruism.

    Compassion.

    But never forcefulness.

    Well, not until I waded through the choppy waters of forgiveness after I had the courage to leave my abusive marriage.

    Forgive is a Verb

    Forgiving isn’t an emotion. It’s an action. It’s a process that has no time limitation or expiration date.

    It can’t be ordered, demanded, or rushed.

    When I first discovered that my husband had been lying to me, we had been married for thirty years. Out of the blue I discovered he had lost his job…over fifteen years previously.

    You read that correctly—fifteen years.

    For fifteen years he led me to believe that he was going to work every day. I thought we were saving money for college for our three children, “rainy day” needs, and retirement.

    But there was no accumulation of money at all. He didn’t contribute anything to our family. Consequently, his financial betrayal had devastating, long-lasting effects on me.

    We didn’t have health insurance. Going to the doctor or dentist was a luxury. We couldn’t afford a lot of the basic necessities for our children and relied on help from our families. He caused all this while criticizing my concerns, saying I was too needy and materialistic, and that I should be grateful for what I had.

    Little by little, I discovered that most of our marriage had been built on a mountain of lies. My ex-husband is a pathological liar. He is also a sex addict. He cheated on me routinely and without regret because he felt like life ‘owed’ him whatever he desired.

    Looking back, I see how he moved us away from my friends and family, isolating me. He belittled me until I had no self-confidence left. He used me like a worthless piece of trash.

    It’s impossible to put into words how it feels to discover that most of my life was completely out of my control.

    The story of my life was written by someone else. Someone who is selfish, greedy, and power hungry.

    Is forgiveness possible?

    Victim Bullying is Real

    Our first marriage counselor beamed proudly at my husband (ex-husband now.) She praised him for his willingness to attend counseling with me and for his acceptance of his faults.

    I listened to him manipulate the facts of the story to present himself in a better light, and I marveled at how blind I had been for so long.

    And then the counselor jumped into the topic of forgiveness, and I felt like my head was spinning.

    This man had abused me.

    For thirty years I was abused emotionally, sexually, and financially.

    Yet now everything was in my hands. He had done his job and apologized, so I needed to meekly accept it. Right?

    But I couldn’t.

    That first session, our marriage counselor gave me three homework assignments: a book to read, a list to write of things he could do to rebuild my trust, and a letter to write expressing how hurt I felt.

    My abuser’s homework?

    Nothing.

    I felt further victimized. I was trying to uncover and measure the piles of dust that were being swept up. At the same time, he was handing me a can of Pledge to clean up his mess.

    We need to stop bullying the victims by pushing them to forgive before they are ready. If the forgiving is completely up to me, then I need to do it my way. Period.

    By the way, this same counselor eventually pulled me for a private session one day and encouraged me to have a bag packed and an exit strategy planned. The blindfold eventually was lifted. She was the first person to validate to me that my experience was abusive.

    One Right Doesn’t Fix Bunches of Wrongs

    Once my husband started admitting to all the wrongs he’d done, he acted as if I should naturally just forgive him right away.

    It doesn’t work like that.

    “I’m sorry” isn’t the magic eraser of bad deeds.

    Three decades of purposeful abuse can’t be wiped away with a simple child-like apology.

    I left my husband and began working with a therapist alone. She helped me see what forgiveness really is. It isn’t absolution for the abuser. It isn’t a free pass. It certainly isn’t a reset button to give my abuser a second chance. In fact, it has very little to do with my abuser.

    Forgiveness means I am releasing the hurt and anger I feel so that it holds no power over me.

    What Needs to Be Forgiven?

    To forgive is to let go of the hurt that crushes my heart.

    Truthfully, I will probably never know the full extent of what my abuser did to me under the guise of being a ‘loving’ husband.

    So forgiveness can’t hinge on knowledge.

    Even though I’ve learned that my abuser was himself abused as a child, I can’t accept that as a good reason why he treated me badly.

    So forgiveness isn’t understanding or compassion.

    What is forgiveness for me?

    It’s forceful action to reclaim my life.

    Forcefulness Is Real Action

    New memories pop up to haunt me all the time.

    The time my ex-husband missed my son’s winter concert. I know he wasn’t working, so where was he? Who was he with? Was he using the money I had earned at my job to go to a strip club?

    The time he fought against taking me to the hospital because we didn’t have health insurance. I was having a hypertensive crisis, and he tried to get me to somehow ‘fix’ my problem at home. I ended up driving myself to the ER, where I was whisked away for a CT scan immediately because the doctors feared I was having a stroke right then.

     My husband put my health in jeopardy by not ‘allowing’ me to go to the hospital, by not having medical insurance, and by not being around to help. Thankfully, I have fully recovered. But it’s something I had to forgive him for, even though he never specifically apologized for that particular instance.

    I’ll never know the full story.

    I won’t hear apologizes for every single betrayal.

    These are the ghosts of my past that linger in the air.

    And with each new spotlighted transgression, I must forgive my abuser all over again.

    This goes on and on, repeatedly. But I no longer view it as re-victimization. I see it as my empowerment to direct my future.

    Forgiving Is Not for The Weak

    So, as an abused person, forgiveness is not a single act for me. It is a continuing action.

    I can try to give a blanket forgiveness, but when bleak memories attack me in the dark hours of the morning, I find myself needing to release and let go of all that hurt again. If I don’t, I risk being weighed down with anger.

    It’s exhausting.

    But it’s also empowering because I’ve learned I can’t rely on the gentle meekness displayed during schoolyard apologies. To forgive is hard work.

    It takes force, which includes:

    • Strength
    • Determination
    • Power

    No, forgiveness is not for the weak.

    Are you struggling with forgiving something that is hard? I understand. Try to take the power into your hands and forgive with forcefulness. You have the strength to do it. And the freedom you uncover is well worth the effort.