#HealZone Journal Prompt: Day Ten.


Hey, Love!

Question: How do you forgive when the apology ever comes your way?

Response:
First, I don’t care for apologies when the behavior is repeated. The best apology is the person not doing it again. I want more than anything for me to tell them exactly how something bothers me and what they did was wrong. Some might give an apology and I do appreciate it when the person really wants to resolve the issue.

But what about the times when the person doesn’t want to resolve anything? What if they don’t think they were wrong?

Second, I acknowledge what and who I am dealing with. Am I dealing with a narcissist? Am I dealing with a truly confused person and we are just misunderstanding each other? Is the person truly mentally ill?

If so, those are the moments when I accept that I’m not going to get an apology from them. It’s okay for me because as previously mentioned, I don’t care to hear an apology. Hearing “I’m sorry” or “I apologize” annoys the hell out of me because I’ve heard it so many times and said “that’s okay” so many times, I quit going through the motions altogether.

The person changing their behavior is the BEST apology ever!
But what if the person isn’t around anymore? What if they moved away, are in prison, or they died?

Then, I don’t know. Apologies have never made me feel better. So, I don’t know.
I still feel that BOTH of my parents owe me an apology and they are both gone.

My father wasn’t really in my life and as an adult, I can understand why and I’m okay with why. However, I feel some of the ‘why’ could have been changed on his part. The most hurtful part of our relationship wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t around or that he died (almost 10 years ago on March 13th). It was the fact that everyone at his funeral has so much to say about him except me. Hearing people talk about him the way they did had shown me how excluded I was from his life. I felt like the last person he had ever thought of in his life. That feeling isn’t as strong anymore, but I feel it still.

They said things that a daughter should be able to say and I couldn’t. I had no memories worth sharing like my older brother and some of his grandchildren had remembered about him. Even some unrelated people had so much to say about what they remember and I had nothing. Nothing substantial. Nothing I had remembered about him that wasn’t affected by time. My memories were either fuzzy or revealed moments that he came to visit me when his wife wasn’t supposed to know about it.

She was hateful in my eyes. Even though I was older than their marriage, she resented me, it seems. At least from the eyes of a 9-year-old girl who just wanted to call her daddy, she was mean.

Then, there is my mother. I miss her so much. But she had problems with substance abuse. Apparently, she dealt with that years before I was born and years after. I think that’s another reason why my father and she didn’t stay together. But My father had a problem with being faithful to ANY woman.

My mother had trouble accepting that her past was what it was. She had issues with mental health and if affected me greatly.

I guess I could hear an apology, but not because I think I’m owed an apology, but because I wish I could hear from them again. I miss them both. I miss what I DO remember about my father. I miss my mom and her sweet and calm demeanor.

Half of them makes all of me. I am here because of them. Even for me to accept myself, I have to accept the both of them. Ain’t no excluding daddy because he wasn’t there enough, my skin is as dark as it is because of him. My height is because of him. My big feet, my eyes, my hands… I look like him!

In this life, they both struggled with something that probably made them feel like they need an apology or some type of recompense and they never got it. I don’t mean to make excuses for them, but hurt people hurt people whether they mean to or not. And they hurt themselves too. I firmly believe that their hardship wore their hearts out. My father died of a heart attack and my mom died of cardiac arrest. Yes, I was born to older parents, but it doesn’t matter how old you are. When you’re sick, you’re sick.

My dad grew up as a hurt little boy and my mom grew up as a hurt little girl. We all grow up, but we all don’t heal properly. We all grow up with misaligned minds with misaligned thoughts, bodies, and habits. All of these things, my Lord sees including the things He sees in me.

My thoughts and actions, just like my parents are byproducts of my misaligned mind with misaligned thoughts and God is willing to forgive me for all of them. [Cue ugly cry] Every last one of them, He has seen, does see, and will see and He chose to forgive all of them when I ask and most times when I don’t. I’m not going to ask forgiveness when I think I’m right. I try to do it anyway, though.

So, how do I forgive? I keep in mind that all my misalignment, my ugly, my chaos, my gluttony, and greed is forgiven. I should pass on the same. My parents, my bullies, my family, my friends, and people who I don’t even know are forgiven.

They aren’t trusted, but they are forgiven and I hope they forgive me too.

What do you think? How do you forgive?

Talk to you later!

Ebony

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