Throughout the course of my 30 Before 30 Project, I've had to reflect on the meaning of forgiveness. When I wrote the word "Forgive" in the final spot on my list, it was born out of a wish to go back to the person that I used to be: someone who held no grudges and no ill feelings towards anyone, no matter what had transpired in the past. When I was writing my list, I thought that I needed to find my way back to being the person that I was before my life went into a tailspin in order to be happy again.
But even though the original intention behind wanting to forgive didn't hold anymore, it was still something I couldn't let go of. Did I need to forgive the people who betrayed me? Did I need to forgive myself for not being more careful with who I allowed close enough to cause me real damage?
Forcing myself to forgive someone who hurt me in unfathomable ways made very little sense to me. That sort of forgiveness happens in its own time and cannot be given a deadline.
Forgiving myself seemed to be a good way to go. I spent a lot of time being very angry at myself for failing to protect myself. I've never had my own back. I jump into relationships littered with red flags just as easily as I do out of planes and towers, knowing I always manage to bounce back and not caring what I risk in the process. Sometimes, my daring leads me to incredible highs. But other times it brings me to gut-wrenching lows. Reflecting on my own role in the pitfalls of my life gave me a new sense of awareness and hopefully taught me lessons for the years and relationships to come.
It wasn't until Sunday morning, one day into turning 30, that I finally found a definition of forgiveness that brought me peace and closure. Together with a heartwarming birthday greeting, my friend Janine sent me a quote that finally put everything into perspective:
As the project progressed, however, I found out more about myself, what I'm capable of—and ultimately, what I'm worth. With every new friend made and every timeworn friendship made even stronger, I came to realize that these people that I adore having in my life also think of me as someone worth knowing and loving. With every fear overcome and seemingly insurmountable challenge conquered, I found out that I'm made of some pretty strong stuff. With every new place explored and new experience soaked up, I realized how much promise the future held.
Knowing all that, how could I want to go back?
Knowing all that, how could I want to go back?
Forcing myself to forgive someone who hurt me in unfathomable ways made very little sense to me. That sort of forgiveness happens in its own time and cannot be given a deadline.
Forgiving myself seemed to be a good way to go. I spent a lot of time being very angry at myself for failing to protect myself. I've never had my own back. I jump into relationships littered with red flags just as easily as I do out of planes and towers, knowing I always manage to bounce back and not caring what I risk in the process. Sometimes, my daring leads me to incredible highs. But other times it brings me to gut-wrenching lows. Reflecting on my own role in the pitfalls of my life gave me a new sense of awareness and hopefully taught me lessons for the years and relationships to come.
It wasn't until Sunday morning, one day into turning 30, that I finally found a definition of forgiveness that brought me peace and closure. Together with a heartwarming birthday greeting, my friend Janine sent me a quote that finally put everything into perspective:
"Forgiveness is about giving up the hope that the past could have been any different."
- Oprah Winfrey
I still recall those first few days of heartbreak, when I would be doubled over in bed wracked with tears at the life that had fallen apart around me. I would have given anything then for things to go back to the way they were.
Now, a year and a half later, I wouldn't change any of it—not the mistakes made, the devastation wrought, the anger that swelled up, the resolve that came to reclaim my life, and especially not the grace that allowed me to turn the bitterness into something so, so sweet.
A week ago, fellow blogger Lach interviewed me and asked me what my biggest regret was. Before this project, I would've found it easy to come up with an answer but having gone through what I have over the past year and change, I said, "I can’t say that I have one. Good things came out of even the most painful events of my life, and I wouldn’t be the person I am if I hadn’t gone through it all—so no regrets."
Now, a year and a half later, I wouldn't change any of it—not the mistakes made, the devastation wrought, the anger that swelled up, the resolve that came to reclaim my life, and especially not the grace that allowed me to turn the bitterness into something so, so sweet.
A week ago, fellow blogger Lach interviewed me and asked me what my biggest regret was. Before this project, I would've found it easy to come up with an answer but having gone through what I have over the past year and change, I said, "I can’t say that I have one. Good things came out of even the most painful events of my life, and I wouldn’t be the person I am if I hadn’t gone through it all—so no regrets."
So if forgiveness is indeed letting go of that hope that my past could be different, then I can say with all honesty and confidence that I've achieved that.
But at the end of it all, I don't know if I've earned the right to cross off #30 on my list. The truth is, it doesn't matter anymore. My little project has done so much more for me than I ever expected it to and I can't ask for anything more at this point.
During the interview, Lach also asked me what book changed my life and I told him that as cliché as it sounds, it's The Alchemist. And as always happens when I come to thinking about this book, I realize that despite reading it numerous times, I can never recall how the story ends.
That's because the point of the story was never the ending. It was about the colorful journey of a shepherd boy and how it was this journey that was ultimately his reward.
And I guess that's how my project ends, too. Did I succeed at crossing off everything on my list? It really doesn't matter. All that matters is that I've had the time of my life.
But at the end of it all, I don't know if I've earned the right to cross off #30 on my list. The truth is, it doesn't matter anymore. My little project has done so much more for me than I ever expected it to and I can't ask for anything more at this point.
During the interview, Lach also asked me what book changed my life and I told him that as cliché as it sounds, it's The Alchemist. And as always happens when I come to thinking about this book, I realize that despite reading it numerous times, I can never recall how the story ends.
That's because the point of the story was never the ending. It was about the colorful journey of a shepherd boy and how it was this journey that was ultimately his reward.
And I guess that's how my project ends, too. Did I succeed at crossing off everything on my list? It really doesn't matter. All that matters is that I've had the time of my life.
