I’ve noticed something over the years.
Forgiveness seems to have become a destination.
Almost a milestone.
As though one day we’ll finally be able to say,
“I’ve forgiven.”
And somehow…
That will mean we’ve healed.
I’ve been wondering if we’ve accidentally reversed the order.
What if healing was never meant to revolve around forgiveness?
What if healing asks something entirely different of us?
To grieve.
To rage.
To fall apart.
To understand.
To rebuild.
To slowly find our way back to ourselves.
Not because we’re trying to forgive.
Simply because we’re trying to heal.
And then…
Perhaps one day, almost unnoticed…
Forgiveness quietly arrives.
Not as a decision.
Not as an achievement.
Not as proof of spiritual maturity.
Simply as one possible outcome of a much deeper journey.
Or perhaps it doesn’t.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that I no longer want to chase forgiveness.
I’d rather devote my energy to healing.
If forgiveness chooses to meet me somewhere along the way…
I’ll welcome it.
I do believe forgiveness can show up as a natural part of that bigger process of healing.
Not because I’ve decided I should forgive.
But because, somewhere along the way, I’m finally ready to let go.
Really let go.
Let go of the insult.
Let go of the pain.
Let go of the hold the experience still has on me.
Not because what happened didn’t matter.
But because I no longer want to carry it.
And when that moment comes, perhaps forgiveness isn’t something I have to choose.
Perhaps it simply happens.
With curiosity and an open heart.
