Forgiveness. Can you imagine? Forgiveness. – Hamilton the Musical.

To everyone that has ever hurt me. 

I forgive you.

I forgive you even though it hurts. 

I forgive you when anger would be easier. 

The one who pushed me down in the playground. 

Who called me fat. Four-eyes. Whore. Skank. 

Who called me everything but my name because my name would have made me a person in your eyes. 

Who loved me when I didn’t like myself. 

Who made me feel like nothing else mattered so much. 

Who never answered my calls. 

Who told me to get over it when I cried for help. 

Who never told me anything at all. 

Who gave me silence when I wanted answers. 

I forgive you because I know no other way. It is not easy for me to feel indifference. To feel apathy. I just feel. I feel so much. 

I cannot feel nothing when it comes to the people who’ve broken me. Or, wait. They tried to break me. 

I think of you when the air turns cold. I wonder where you are now. If you’re happy. If you are wondering where I am. 

I cannot live in what ifs. I have to forgive. 

I forgive because I can’t do anything else. If I hold on to feelings of anger and hurt I will disintegrate into an ashen cloud of my own self loathing. 

I was angry at you because I allowed you to take over my life. So, I am angry at me for allowing myself to be consumed by another person. Another person that I loved so much I gave up the things I loved for them. I hate myself for that. I forgive myself for that.  

I sometimes wish I could start my life over in some spots. I would go up to the kids who pushed me down in the schoolyard and I would punch them in the mouth. Not because I want to hurt them. Because it would have meant I had a fist in the air called justice. Because it meant I would not have let them break me. 

I would have told those mentors who recommended I lose weight to fuck off. It would have saved me six years of eating disorders. 

I would tell sixteen year old me staring with wild eyes at the handsome boy in her play to stop wasting time on boys who are unavailable because for ten damn years I made a habit of holding doors open for men who weren’t even there to walk through the space I created. 

I would have loved you a little bit less. Because it would have saved me some space for my own self love to flower. And I would have told you every day how much you meant to me. To your face. And I would have put the damn phone down. 

I spent too long in a spiral of self loathing and hatred because I was putting people in my life who created that cycle for me. 

But right now the only thing I can do is look back on the myriad of incidents and accidents that compose my life and forgive. Forgive everyone. Because that’s the only way we can truly heal. 

I can’t forget, of course. But with every forgiveness, every act of love, the weight in my chest gets lighter. 
I forgive because I know no other way. 

I forgive you. I miss you. I forgive me. 


Published by The Curious Ally Cat

I'm a 34 year old adjunct professor and writer in Connecticut. People seem to like me because I am polite and I am rarely late.

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