You had to release the hurt, soften toward the person who hurt you, and somehow find it in yourself to let them back into your peace. That always felt impossible to me. How could I forgive something that still ached?

But then something shifted in my understanding, and it felt like a light coming on in a dark room. Forgiveness isn't about them. It's not even about whether they deserve it or whether they've changed. Forgiveness is about me. It's about me taking back the power that their action took from me.

When I hold onto resentment, I'm letting that person live in my mind rent-free. I'm letting their mistake occupy space in my heart that should be reserved for better things. Forgiveness is me saying: you hurt me, and that was real, but I'm not going to let your failure define my future.

This matters so much in a spiritual sense. God forgives us not because we deserve it, but because He knows that holding onto our failures would destroy us. When I forgive others, I'm participating in that divine mercy. I'm choosing grace over punishment. And every time I do it, I feel a little bit lighter, like I've put down a heavy stone I've been carrying.

But here's the thing—forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't mean pretending the hurt didn't happen or letting someone hurt me again. It means I acknowledge the pain, I release my grip on it, and I move forward without them if necessary. 💫 It's the most powerful thing I can do for myself because it's the most selfish thing in the best way—I'm choosing my own peace over my right to be angry.