I just read a blog post that concluded “life is too short to be so
fucking angry all the time.” You can
read that post at Change the Topic, a blog I discovered through yeahwrite. I absolutely agree with this
statement, but I question whether or not I have actually been following this
bit of advice. I have struggled to let
go of anger all year long. It comes and
it goes. There are good days and bad
days … and there are also really bad days where I can’t even get out of
bed.
When I was teaching, I was typically the one adult in the building
that students sought out to share their secrets and struggles with. Those kids were smart; they knew a good thing
when they saw one. One bit of advice I
would often offer was to use writing as a means of moving beyond it. I would frequently suggest that a student
write a letter to whoever he was holding responsible for his current pain. The secret to that letter, however, is that it
never actually gets sent … or e-mailed … or tweeted … or whatever else the kids
are doing these days. It’s the act of
getting that anger out of you and onto the page that is most important.
I wrote one of these letters a few months ago. I wish I could say that it helped, but I
guess I wasn’t truly ready to forgive (you just MIGHT be able to tell). I
shared it with my husband, who said it was too much cursing even for me. But, if you’ve been
following me, you know Sam is supposed to “suck it” this week anyway, so here
that shit is:
Dear _______________,
According to Joyce Meyer, Christian author and speaker, “Usually, when a person hurts someone else,
he's probably hurting himself at least as much and is suffering some fallout as
a result." When I recently read
this quote, my thoughts immediately fell upon you. In the recent year, no one has hurt me more
than you have. Although such hurt was
recently imposed upon me, said hurt is some of the greatest I have felt not
just in the past six or seven months – but in the whole of my existence. I acknowledge the truth of Meyer’s statement
as I have been witness to such hurt before by people who were in even greater
pain than I, and really just doing the best they could at that point in their
lives. I believe you must be hurting to
have proceeded as you did. I don’t know
who hurt you; I don’t know what they did to you. I do, however, know that it wasn’t me. I didn’t hurt you and I did not and do not
deserve the hurt and pain you have imposed upon me, and thus my family. As I reflect upon Meyer’s words, I know I
must tell you two things. First: Fuck
you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you until your ass
is sore you fucking piece of shit. Second:
I forgive you. But know this: my
forgiveness is not for you. You don’t
deserve it one bit, and I will never, ever like you or approve of your
actions. I forgive you for me and for my
family. I forgive you because people
that are personally hurting hurt other people and I don’t want to hurt my
husband, my daughter, my son, my best friends, and my family. I love them too much to let the pain you have
unjustly and unnecessarily imposed upon me to hurt them any longer. So, you are forgiven you asshole.
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Clearly, my catharsis is not yet complete. But, I'm trying. Please trust that I am trying and I want to be good for the people I love and that love me too. If you're one of those folks (again -- you know who you are and I fucking love you): THANK YOU. I would never be able to forgive the people who have hurt me without you guys loving me like you do.
I struggle with forgiveness. I mean, I like it as a theory, obviously, but I find it hard to actually DO. That's why I like your letter so much; it's a side of forgiveness with a big fuck you.
ReplyDeleteI think your letter is just beautiful. Maybe not for the curse words (and although you will never see them on my blog, I am a huge HUGE fan of them), but for what your letter represented: That you love yourself and your family too much to hold on to the pain. Well done.
ReplyDeletei KNOW that person that hurt you and i could have written that letter, too... it took some time (a year) and some writing and a shit-ton of soul-searching to finally realize it wasn't me! it was him. i hope your friend and my friend will live long and miserable lives.
ReplyDelete