Hate used to visit my heart, but at some point, I realized it was not meant to live there.
It came came as my defender when I was hurt – when betrayal cut too deep, when I felt unseen in my pain. Butor a time, hate felt powerful and purposeful. But what began as armour soon hardened into eternal rage and isolation.
One day I woke up and realized I didn’t need to fight.
There was no war, even if my body hadn’t realised it yet.
Those who wronged me had faded into their own stories, but my heart still kept guard at a door no one was trying to enter.
It was time to let that guard rest.
And allow the tears to come instead of the rage.
Grieve the dream that died, the love that never came, the apology that never arrived.
Letting grief in, did hurt, – yes – but it flowed finally through me when I allowed it.
Hatred on the other hand had stayed far too long, like an unwanted guest, until I showed it the door.
Forgiveness I learned is not forgetting.
I will never forget.
Forgiveness was uncoupling myself from the weight that no longer belonged to my present.
So, I learned boundaries instead.
I learned self-respect.
Self-honour.
Self-integrity.
I learned to surround myself with people who built me up.
I let others reveal themselves first.
I let them earn my trust slowly.
Above all, I learned to always have my own back – unapologetically.
I learned to protect my peace, but with an open hand, not a closed fist.
I carried this burden long enough. In hindsight, far too long.
I lay it down purposely and deliberately, everyday,
because there is more ahead of me – a life waiting to be lived – than the life that no longer exists.
And I refuse to waste anymore of my precious time what was never mine to hold.
~ Evgenia Pimżin