“I am sorry. You have been through so much, especially at a young age. I cannot imagine how difficult dealing with these things must have been and I am so sorry.” My father’s words echoed through me, bringing along with them a certain sinking feeling, the chilling coldness of shock.
I had just come to light of some news, that in my eyes, was completely, totally, and utterly devastating. The things I would have least expected had now been dropped on me and I had not a clue how to deal with any of them. I was tired, I was cold from the blustery air, I had wept like a child, my eyes were pink and puffy, my nose was running like an African Olympian, and I was hurt. I
was shattered, at best.
They say the truth will set you free, but what if it doesn't ? What if the truth leaves you heartbroken and burdened?
Like, where had this come from? Why did this have to be me? Had I not been through enough already? I am just starting to heal. Why does life have to dump another pile of steaming hot horse poop right on my shoulders? But seriously though, where can I return this?
The series that is grieve ran, beat, bumped, and coursed down my spine, propelling, forcing and seeping its way into my core.
The frustration that is denial hit me, and hit me hard.
I refuse to believe any of this. This is some kind of sick and twisted joke. Better yet, this is just a dream. I will eventually wake up, shake it off, and we will be laughing about it by breakfast.
But then, like an IV drip, anger slowly seeped into my bloodstream, and at an indeterminable moment, it took over, completely filling me. It mingled with my blood cells. My arteries were its best friend.
How could you not tell me? Why is this happening? This is unjust, unfair, stupid, hurtful and I need someone to blame. I would also like to punch someone in the face. This is a big deal and I would like to sit on my victim couch and hate on the world.
And then finally acceptance cleaned out the toxicity of my system.
Yes, this has happened to me. No I didn't want it to, but I cannot change that. I can handle this. It will not be fun, it will not be easy but it will not be impossible. It’s time I get my butt off of the victim couch, because feeling sorry for myself is such a waste of time.
It took a lot to get to that place though. In hindsight, I have come to realize it was something as simple as an apology that helped me get there.
“I am so sorry.”
4 words helped to set me free.
It was the moment that I replayed in my head on repeat for days.
My father apologizing for………for things that weren't even his fault, things that were nobody’s fault. Things that he did not need my forgiveness for.
This made me realize that an apology is so much more then a few whispered words. An apology, one that is true and sincere, is a great act of love. A heartfelt apology is grace. In some cases, its more than asking for forgiveness. It’s helping to carry the burden of pain, of brokenness. Its grace it it’s finest.
And sometimes a small amount of grace goes a long way. Sometimes all you need is a little bit of grace to accomplish a whole lot of healing.
AND
With that being said…..
It occurred to me.... how many other things have so many other people never heard an apology for?
Too all the people who have ever been hurt, who are hurting, who are broken, scared, scarred, tired, depressed, feeling beaten, who feel like a failure,who don't feel good enough, who have ever felt pain….
This is for you.
I AM SORRY!
I AM SO TRULY SORRY!
I am sorry for all the hurtful things that have ever been done to you. I am sorry for all the bad things that have ever happened to you. I am sorry for the pain! I am sorry for the way it messes with your mind, the way you feel more then broken and shattered, beaten and tired. I’m sorry for the way that people look, but don’t ever truly see. I’m so sorry for the hope that someone will eventually see the hurt hidden in places within you, but being crippled by fear of that actually happening. I’m sorry for the emptiness that comes with being fragile. I’m sorry for the agony that comes with being broken, for the burning of self-hate that course’s through your veins that intoxicates every part of who you are. I am sorry for the ways you ache like pulsing blood behind a bruise. I am sorry if you have ever been blinded by sadness or bound by oppression. I am sorry for all the times people told you “it would get better” and you never believed them! I am sorry for apathy. I am sorry for the grief of things that are far beyond ever forgetting. I am sorry for the feelings of worthless indifference, alienated abandonment, and terrifying isolation. I am sorry for all the ways you feel you must fake it. I am sorry for all the times you have never felt good enough, or worthy of love. Im sorry for all the times you have looked in the mirror and disliked what you saw. I am sorry! I am so sorry for ALL of it!
So there!
Will you please accept my apology?
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