Holding Grudges
That “one love kumbaya forgiveness is next to godliness I am a beacon of love and light my ego doesn’t get angry anymore because I have transcended human pettiness” bullshit doesn’t really work for me.
Well, not entirely.
You see, when I am being mistreated I get angry.
I get resentful.
And yes I have been known to get petty.
The thing is, when I was in people-pleaser mode, it would take me so long to get mad. My anger would move like a humming bird. It would flit in and flit out just as quickly.
I didn’t know I had a right to my anger, yet. I didn’t know I was worthy of somebody standing up for me. I didn’t know how deep my “no” could go because I had been shown it didn’t matter.
My anger could about-face with a glib sort of apology “I’m SoRrY yOu FeEL tHaT wAy”, a compliment, a free drink, literally something as small as the person that hurt me making me laugh?!
See, I would think hopefully, everything is fine now aha, back to normal.
And then I would slip back into my comfortable role of ignoring my own hurt feelings, minimizing my own wants and needs, forgiving someone who wasn’t sorry, tenderizing myself up to get hurt again and again until…
I stopped.
First it was unanswered phone calls. I couldn’t face the discomfort of my boundary so I laid it silently and it almost went unnoticed. In the aloneness of my space I ruminated. I fumed. I felt every heartbreak, betrayal, crossed line, non-apology, act of extreme selfishness, every lie, and it strengthened my resolve. Every hoover attempt at sliding back into my energy was blocked by my bitter heart. Every pick and prod at the squishy parts I mistakenly let them see were suddenly calloused over. Rock fucking hard. No longer allowing myself to be distracted or swayed by anything less than changed behavior, my feet were more sure than ever, and my path unfolded in full HD.
And then something surprising happened…
Given the space and time to love and heal myself, to find forgiveness for my flaws and mistakes and wounds, to get my head and my heart on straight, to understand the ins and outs of my own subconscious, to see the technicolor red of my open wounds, compassion bloomed. The grudges gave way to understanding. The need to hold onto to the small version of someone else who lived in my past faded away. I could see it all.
Far away from the reach of the toxicity of others, I could see their humanity and divinity, I could feel that unconditional love that people make sound so easy.
It isn’t.
Forgiveness and love aren’t necessary for healing. They are a bonus that comes from it—the cherry on top of the self-love Sundae. They come in time, with practice, and when you have been safe from abuse long enough to become unaccustomed to the feeling of mistreatment.
We get so much about healing and forgiveness twisted. I honestly think we use these concepts to gaslight each other into silence over mistreatment because liberation is contagious, its a chain reaction, and the people in power only have power because of exploitation which is essentially systemic abuse.
My lil petty ass grudges were my gateway to self-love. The first time I let myself get angry for myself because of someone’s treatment of me felt so good that I kept on keepin’ on. I haven’t ever stopped. Each betrayal, each brush with someone else’s toxicity, each cutting remark or whisper of gossip has phased me less than the one that came before it. It could be called toughness, but I’m not closed off. It could be called transcendent, but my feet are on the ground. It’s really just deep, abiding, ever-expanding self-love.
And without my grudges, it wouldn’t have been possible. So the next time someone takes your healthy boundaries for low-vibrations, remember that this is a necessary step on your healing journey. No one is entitled to your forgiveness. Stay mad as long as you need to.
Listen here!
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