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When I first began looking for jobs in November, I was afraid of leaving the picturesque town that had become home over the last six years. I could not imagine a life without my Monday night margaritas, my Saturday afternoons in the stadium, or my 5 am workout friends. At that time, I thought being single for the first time in four years was enough of a transition period and opportunity for self-discovery. I was learning what it meant to love myself, and I loved experiencing the place that I called home with a brand new set of eyes. And then you happened.

You robbed me of my peace of mind. You took away someone that I thought was my friend. You are the reason I began looking for validation that I never actually needed. Because of you, I can’t sleep through the night. I can’t hear fireworks without jumping, drink gin and tonics without feeling a tightness in my throat, hold someone’s hand without flinching, or look at my favorite black sweater without crying.

It’s been almost eight months, and although I have some battle scars, I refuse to let you win this war. I will eventually learn to forgive you—not because you deserve it, but because I deserve to feel whole again. Here are just a few things that I have learned in my journey to being whole again:

  • I am strong. This experience forced me to cut some of the most toxic, negative, selfish people that I have ever met out of my life, and it drew me closer to the people who love me most. Your recklessness ignited a desire to dust myself off and to start all over. I was able to move hundreds of miles away from my little picturesque town and fall in love with a new town and a new way of life. My Monday night margaritas have been replaced with Monday night trivia, and my 5 am circuits workout has been swapped for a 5 pm anger management session with a rowing machine, but I love this place just as much as I once did that storybook town with the villain (you) who drove me away. My happily ever after does not begin or end with you.

  • I have begun to rediscover the source of my strength. After you did what you did, my faith was shaken, but it is that same faith that now brings me closer to forgiveness. This experience has taught me that while I am strong on my own, I don’t have to be, because I can run to my Maker’s feet and be replenished. Although what you did was traumatizing, my identity is not and will not be in you. It’s in Him.
  • My negative experience can be a light to someone else. In my functional area, I work closely with students who have experienced traumatizing events. When they tell me about their anxiety, panic attacks, or PTSD, I can now genuinely relate to what they are going through. I can offer advice and empathy, and encourage them to seek help, because I have been in their shoes and know how difficult it can be to confide in others. Because my students and I have a shared experience, I know how to offer assistance without taking away their agency, and that is something I never could have learned on the job.

Forgiveness is such a simple word, but when you have been hurt like this, it seems almost impossible. I don’t know how long it will take me to forgive you or the bystander who put her desires over my needs, but I am done letting your bad decision—yes, yours and not mine—run my life. You won’t haunt me anymore, and I’m going to make damn sure of it.