There was a time I held on to everything — the words never said, the apologies never offered, the way someone exited like I was a phase they could outgrow. I carried it all in my chest, in my gut, in the tightness behind my eyes that I told myself was just fatigue but was really unreleased grief.
I thought forgiveness meant giving them a pass. That if I let go, it somehow meant I agreed with how they treated me. That if I stopped replaying it, I’d be betraying my pain.
But what I didn’t realize back then was that every time I picked up the memory to analyze it again, I was re-wounding myself.
Every time I waited — even silently — for them to come back with clarity, regret, or anything resembling accountability, I was letting them still live inside my nervous system.
I didn’t need that anymore.
I don’t need that anymore.
Because now, forgiveness doesn’t mean they’re right. It means I’m done bleeding.
It means I can breathe again without my chest tightening when I hear their name.
It means I can think of them and feel nothing — or better yet, peace.
Not because they healed it — but because I finally did.
Forgiveness is no longer a gift I give them.
It’s a freedom I grant myself.
I don’t want them in my story as the open loop anymore.
They were a chapter.
Peace is my epilogue.
And if I forgive them for anything, it’s this:
For not being who I thought they were —
and for helping me become who I actually am.
Where softness, self-awareness, and emotional healing are allowed to coexist. Through reflective writing, grounding rituals, and intentional beauty, Sparrow Trades offers gentle support for sensitive souls learning to reconnect with themselves.
