I Forgive You...

Forgiveness is something that a lot of people feel should be earned. The person who has hurt them must do something to earn their forgiveness, their trust.

But what do you do when you're the one who needs to be forgiven? What do you do when you're the one who has hurt you?

As I sat up late into the night, I thought about a conversation I had with my therapist. I talked to her about how I wanted to have conversations with people who have molded me to be the way I am today, whether consciously or not.

When I brought up the realization of understanding now where my buried emotions come from, she prodded a little, asking what I would say to the person who played the biggest part of that piece of me.

At first, my brain panicked. I didn't want to think about what words I might say. I think part of that was because I was worried it might make me cry. It didn't, and after a beat, I was able to find my words.

"I would tell her, 'I spent my whole childhood repressing my own needs to make sure yours were met. I buried my emotions and actively made sure I didn't need any of the attention because I could tell that you needed it more. I do not blame you for the way I trained myself not to understand my own feelings. The fault is entirely my own. But I want you to know that I did it because I love you. I didn't want you to feel lesser because I was quicker to learn math or science or had better grades in school. I didn't want to pursue a boyfriend actively because I could tell that their attention gave you a sense of being. I didn't want to take away your light, but in the process, I managed to dampen my own." Now, what I actually said was a shorter, less eloquent version of realization spilling from my lips in the moment, but while I lay awake processing all of those feelings late into the night, I understood that placing my own emotions second actually hurt her. She lost her own worth by trying to find it through other people. She no longer sees the person that she is capable of being.

I can feel the fear and frustration and the loss of the person who I used to tell everything. The person I would listen to late into the night. The person that taught me the different meanings of the word "fuck". My sister.

But I don't blame her. I can't blame her. Without first finding the ability to forgive myself for not being someone else in the past, there is no one else I can blame. I'm learning how much I hurt myself, disconnected myself, hid myself just to try and please someone else.

I cut off friendships. I hid from invitations to higher learning. I made sure to just be good enough at dance to be part of the group without being the star. All this I did because I wanted my sister to have a better life. I wanted her to find the friendships that I found. I wanted her to feel special. Even when she told people I was horrible and they avoided talking to me for four years, I blamed myself for not doing better by her.

And part of that is true. I didn't communicate how much she meant--means to me. I didn't communicate how much it hurt when suddenly everything else was more important than me. I simply continued to quietly try and make sure everything was ok for her.

When I first started therapy, some of the discussions about why I am terrible at expressing my own emotions touched upon that childhood. The fact that I was asked to grow up too soon. Too quickly. I have always been aware that a lot of that ask is on me, though some of it is because of the environment. There was anger in talking about it, mostly because I was afraid it would lead to discovering that someone else I was trying to protect was actually a bad person, but now I am able to see that's not true.

Instead, I am surrounded by amazing people who tried their best while I enabled them to rely on me. I trained them that I was someone that could be shit on and still come to their aide. I gave them permission to only reach out to me when it was convenient for them.

Now I worry that I pushed my own sister into believing that she isn't as strong as I know her to be. And in that, I need to forgive me. I need to allow myself the grace that I give others so that I can start to communicate more what it is that I mean to say instead of "it's fine."

I need to allow myself to say, "I don't care if you don't have an entire special meal for me, but I do care if you let me know that there's not an option so I can take care of it myself."

I need to allow myself to say, "No, I can't help you today. I need to focus on my own wellbeing and my mental health is in a fragile state today." I need to allow myself to say, "I love you. Even when you hurt me. I always forgive you, but can we forgive ourselves?"

My thoughts are still swirling, even as I write this. But the point I am trying to make is that we can't protect people from the world. If they don't experience it for themselves, they will never be equipped to deal with it later on. We can support each other without pulling down the shades to block everything that is "harmful" or "scary" in the world. When we talk about the things that are scary or upsetting, we form bonds and empower each other to improve and change rather than hide.

As I continue to put myself as a priority, I recognize how important it truly is to understand my own feelings so that I can more effectively help others. When we practice what we preach, we can help our own happiness and then teach that to others. It's no longer just an in the moment, "I made you feel better". It's teaching the tools to better ourselves and improve our lives long term. It's not an easy task. I've been at it actively for 1.5 years, and I'm just barely starting to understand what I actually need. Putting it into practice will be a whole other can of worms, but I'm stubborn as fuck and won't give up easily... even when that's all I want to do.