Forgiveness is one of the hardest words in the human language.
It’s wrapped in misunderstanding, often preached as something we “owe” to the people who hurt us.
But what if forgiveness was never for them?
What if forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves — a way to stop bleeding from wounds they left behind?
The Truth of My Wounds
I’ve carried wounds left by someone who was supposed to protect me. My mother.
She was the cruelest and most hateful human I ever knew. She locked me alone in rooms, stripped me of love, isolated me from anyone who cared. She told me, in ways both silent and screaming, that I wasn’t worthy of safety, care, or affection.
Her abuse didn’t just hurt my body. It fractured my soul. It planted seeds of self-doubt, loneliness, and unworthiness that I’ve been in battle with my entire life.
The truth is: she destroyed me.
And I’ve spent years — decades — trying to rebuild.
The Monster in My Mind
She’s been the monster in my brain for as long as I can remember.
Her voice became my voice: “You are nothing. You are not good enough. You’ll never be anything. You don’t even deserve to cry.”
And here’s the thing: that voice doesn’t just live in the past. It lingers. It sits heavy on my heart, some days more than others.
Anger lives there too — anger so sharp it can cut through everything if I let it. Anger that makes trust difficult. Anger that, if left unspoken, can poison every relationship, every hope, every corner of life.
Carrying this anger unchecked is like carrying fire pressed against my own chest.
It burns me, not her.
The Myth of Forgiveness
People will say, “You need to forgive her.”
But forgiveness doesn’t erase the abuse. It doesn’t excuse it. It doesn’t mean I allow her back into my life (again) or pretend it didn’t happen.
Forgiveness, for me, means this:
I choose not to let her cruelty define me forever.
I choose to release the chokehold her memory has had on my spirit.
I choose freedom over chains.
Forgiveness isn’t forgetting. It’s unbinding.
Healing Through Motherhood
And here’s something sacred: I’ve healed parts of that wounded child by being the mother I never had.
My daughter is the light of my life. Our bond is proof that cycles can be broken. That cruelty doesn’t get the last word. That love, tenderness, and protection can become my legacy instead of trauma.
Through her, I see how much I’ve reclaimed. I see the girl I was being nurtured in ways she was never given. I see myself becoming the safe place I always longed for.
This too is forgiveness in action — not of my mother, but of myself. Allowing the wound to become a wellspring of love, instead of a chain of pain.
Forgiveness as Ceremony
As I’ve walked this path, I’ve also brought ceremony into it. Because some pain lives too deep for words alone.
I sit in ritual.
I call in angelic light to hold the parts of me she abandoned.
I release cords of control and cruelty, offering them to the violet flame.
I place my hands on my heart and whisper: “This fire belongs to me now. And I choose to let it warm me, not consume me.”
Forgiveness, in this way, becomes sacred.
Not for her redemption. But for my reclamation.
A Closing Truth
I will never say what she did was okay.
I will never accept that treatment.
I will never erase the child who suffered.
But I can choose peace.
I can choose freedom.
I can choose to no longer carry the burden of her cruelty in my bones.
Forgiveness isn’t letting her win.
Forgiveness is remembering that I was always mine.
And this, beloved, is what my work has always circled back to — ceremony as a path to remembrance. To unbinding. To stepping into a life that is no longer defined by pain, but by the truth of who we are.
Ceremonial Forgiveness Practice
Here is a simple but powerful practice you can return to whenever the anger or the monster’s voice rises:
- Set your space — Light a candle or place your hand on your heart. Breathe deeply.
- Name it — Speak out loud the wound you’re carrying. “Linda, you told me I was nothing. I no longer accept this as truth.”
- Breathe the fire — Imagine anger as heat on your heart. With every exhale, see it leave your body as smoke, dissolving into light.
- Reclaim your truth — Place both hands on your chest and whisper:
- “I am worthy of love. I am safe in my own being. I forgive for me, not for you.”
- Seal the ritual — Imagine angelic light wrapping your chest, calming your heart, sealing your freedom.
💛 Final Note
This is not about excusing cruelty. It’s about liberating your soul.
Forgiveness is the key that unlocks the prison you’ve been trapped in — and hands you back your freedom.