I think that the biggest misconception about forgiveness is that forgiveness needs to be triggered by something, like an apology or a confrontation. In the months before my mom died, I had such a hard time sitting with the idea that she didn’t have the tools to mother me the way I needed to be mothered and now that her cancer was termina…
I think that the biggest misconception about forgiveness is that forgiveness needs to be triggered by something, like an apology or a confrontation. In the months before my mom died, I had such a hard time sitting with the idea that she didn’t have the tools to mother me the way I needed to be mothered and now that her cancer was terminal she never would. I felt so angry that I asked her to stop speaking to me for a few weeks. My anger was palpable and present in everything I did and I just wanted it to gtfo.
When I visited her for the last time the month before she died, we joked and laughed and held hands and watched her favorite shows and shared memories. I allowed myself to sit with my feelings of anger and sadness and disappointment and abandonment. I embraced them rather than feeling ashamed of them and I stayed present with them instead of numbing them or pushing them away. We didn’t talk about it, but when I hugged her goodbye for the last time I knew I’d forgiven her for not being what I’d needed her to be. And she knew it too.
I think that the biggest misconception about forgiveness is that forgiveness needs to be triggered by something, like an apology or a confrontation. In the months before my mom died, I had such a hard time sitting with the idea that she didn’t have the tools to mother me the way I needed to be mothered and now that her cancer was terminal she never would. I felt so angry that I asked her to stop speaking to me for a few weeks. My anger was palpable and present in everything I did and I just wanted it to gtfo.
When I visited her for the last time the month before she died, we joked and laughed and held hands and watched her favorite shows and shared memories. I allowed myself to sit with my feelings of anger and sadness and disappointment and abandonment. I embraced them rather than feeling ashamed of them and I stayed present with them instead of numbing them or pushing them away. We didn’t talk about it, but when I hugged her goodbye for the last time I knew I’d forgiven her for not being what I’d needed her to be. And she knew it too.