What’s something you’ve forgiven but haven’t forgotten?
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What’s something you’ve forgiven but haven’t forgotten?
For me, it's my biological mother.
I've forgiven her for the abuse, the abandonment, the broken promises, and the childhood I never got to experience. But forgiving her doesn't mean I've forgotten what she put me through.
There are things from my childhood that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Things no little girl should ever have to see, feel, or experience.
But as I've gotten older, I've realized something.
So much of the wife I am today and the mother I've become comes from the childhood I survived.
Not because I was shown what a healthy, loving family should look like, but because I was shown so much of what I never wanted my own family to experience.
I learned what kind of mother I wanted to be by remembering the kind of mother I needed.
I learned the importance of showing up because I knew what it felt like when someone didn't.
I learned how important it is for children to feel safe because I spent so much of my childhood feeling anything but safe.
I learned to make my daughters feel loved, wanted, protected, and heard because I know what it's like to grow up questioning those very things.
And in my marriage, I strive to create a home filled with love, respect, stability, and security because I know firsthand what growing up around the opposite can do to a child.
I didn't have an example of everything I wanted to become. I had an example of everything I wanted to do differently.
And while I can acknowledge that my childhood shaped the woman I am today, that doesn't mean I'm grateful for the abuse or that I deserved any of it.
I deserved a childhood. I deserved protection. I deserved a mother who put her children first.
But I can't change the past.
What I can do is make sure the pain I experienced doesn't become the pain I pass down to my daughters.
Am I a perfect wife? Absolutely not.
Am I a perfect mother? Far from it.
I make mistakes. I have moments when my childhood trauma gets the best of me. I'm still learning how to handle emotions and situations that sometimes bring back feelings I thought I'd moved past.
But every single day, I make the conscious decision to do better, learn, grow, and give my family the love and stability I always wanted.
I've forgiven my mother, but I'll never forget the little girl who had to survive her choices.
And maybe that's what breaking generational cycles looks like.
Not erasing the past.
Not pretending it didn't happen.
But choosing to write a different story for the next generation.
I can't change the mother I had.
But I can choose the mother I become.
Becoming Her — Still Healing, Still Growing
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