When people say “Forgive,” I think they must mean release. After all, I can’t forget all of the mean girls of the past. My memory is way too clingy, and anyway the more I try to forget something, the more I remember it.
Let it go. Let it have happened. Let it roll off of me like I have learned how to do with so many other things that I can’t do anything about. Straighten the back, straighten the shoulders, relax. The bullying actually took nothing away from me. Constant remembering causes me pain.
With this season of various reunions in my life — high school, summer camp — it appears that I am the only one who remembers the pain that happened to me, that I thought everyone saw. That the pain was neither permanent nor necessary and will drift off into the past out of reach if I let it.