"This topic..." is what you thought when you first saw this blog post.
"I don't want to hear another word about this topic."
And I hear you. I totally do. When it comes to healing, the F-word is the word you most commonly hear, and most want to avoid.
People in my life who have talked about forgiveness have come in two flavors. There's the extremely annoying, dismissive kind:
"What happened to you is IN THE PAST. Let it go," says a condescending family member who envisions herself as the next Mother Theresa, dispensing her earthly wisdom to mortals like ourselves. Whenever you hear this type of forgiveness talk, it takes every last ounce of self-control to not pummel the shit out of the speech-giver. No one understands as much as we do how much we hate being told that what happened was "in the past," somehow magically rendering the person who did it no longer accountable.
And then there's the well-meaning friend who says something like, "forgiveness is ultimately about yourself: when you let go of your anger, you can move on with your life."
But we know it's not that simple.
How can I just "let it go" like Elsa in Frozen when she's gallivanting through the majestic Norwegian landscape like a winter Fraulein Maria? Forgiveness in the real world doesn't make you magically shoot snow sparkles out your ass. You can't just "let go" all the anger you've felt over the years.
Because if I did....what would that make me?
Would "letting go" of my anger make me...weak? Would it mean I'm letting the aggressor off the hook? Would it make me a pushover? Would it mean I had bad boundaries? Would it mean all my suffering was for nothing? Would it mean dishonoring that hurt child inside me, who has been waiting so long for justice? Would it mean repressing my hurt and angry feelings?
All of these fears are normal, and expected. I'm not going to tell you to not feel those feelings, to not have those thoughts. I struggled with--and still struggle with--all those feelings.
But what I can tell you from my own journey so far is this:
In my healing journey, I came to the conclusion that I did not believe in forgiveness without punishment. Forgiveness without punishment was just a form of enabling the aggressor.
And that's a perfectly valid way to feel.
So I did punish my aggressors. I cut one of them out of my life. I didn't go to her wedding (which was also a way to punish my parents for not doing their job and protecting me). I struggled with another one of my abusive siblings as well. I deleted her as a friend on Facebook, and only added her back when I felt like she had sufficiently apologized and changed her ways. I've had a couple of talks with both my parents and siblings, and told them how I felt.
My father has been the most remorseful of my two parents. He came to grips with the fact that what was going on under their roof was not okay, and that he should have done something about it. (He never directly said all of this, but he said something along the lines of "I would've done more had I known how deeply it hurt you." I know. Eye roll.)
My mother never really apologized. But I did punish her, (by not going to the wedding) and I did tell her how I felt. And I understand that's all I'll ever really get from her.
And my sibling who I'm still not talking to...that saga is ongoing. She apologized. And then kept on acting unacceptably. So I distanced myself from her again. And now.....I guess I'm waiting.
But one thing I know now is this: Forgiveness feels GREAT. It is so nice to wake up in the morning, and feel nothing but the warmth of the sun on your skin, and not walk around in an angry cloud all the time. It's so nice to focus on the present moment, and not feel the dark thunderclouds of my past, suffocating me from the refreshing air around me.
Maybe I'll keep that one sibling out of my life permanently. Who knows. Maybe those years of abuse have rendered her permanently untrustworthy, and maybe I'll never really have a relationship with her. That's totally fine.
What happened to me and what happened to you SHOULD NOT have happened. It was wrong. We as a society need to work hard to change our ways of thinking and acting to permanently stamp out sibling abuse. And we can do this slowly by mending the wounds that have been inflicted upon us.
That small child inside of me is proud that I didn't go to the wedding, that I cut off people who abused me, and that I spoke my truth to people who needed to hear it. I didn't choose the family I was born into, but I did do something about the way they treated me. And that's all I can ever ask of myself.
Even after my family members were punished, I had to consciously let go of my anger. The punishments themselves were satisfying, but of course they couldn't completely delete the past. Only I could give up my hurt feelings, and I did. And I'm still in the process of doing it.
My hope for you is that you can find the strength and courage to heal your wounds. Trust me when I say it's possible.
Hugs.
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