“You don’t get to repeat this”. Forgiveness and why I’m not done being angry.
Frank Pepe
Learning & Development Training Specialist & Consultant | 5 Years as a Trainer, Facilitator, and Curriculum Designer | Improving employee engagement and leadership skills through training and coaching
Recently I had a deep discussion with my Men’s support group about forgiveness. My father came up as a topic, and I was asked what the path to forgiveness looked like for me. I had a simple answer.
“I’m not done being angry yet”.
My answer may sound immature, juvenile, or ill-informed. A few people have told me that one day I’ll feel differently about the situation – as if the emotional and physical abuse, abandonment, and neglect from my father was just a bad dream. And maybe they are right, maybe one day far in the future I will. But I’ve also been told that there’s no correct way to grieve.
And right now, by writing these articles and reliving the pain, grieving is what I need.
I’m not done being angry.
The damage my father did to my subconscious mind, my self-esteem, and my physical body are wounds that still haven’t healed.
When I get frustrated about my life and really feel the pain my childhood caused me, there’s an animalistic beast inside me that explodes with an untamable fury. I get so upset about the torment that I could scream, throw things, kick, punch, and destroy everything around me, with no regard for my body. And honestly, sometimes, emptying that from my system feels cathartic.
Because, I’m not done being angry.
Going into that space where I’m experiencing it, and even playing music that helps me to feel it lets me know that it was real. This is where I’ve been a lot the past week; feeling that pain and fury. So it was perfect timing when a few days ago, one of my favorite bands released a new song, with lyrics I found timely and poignant.
"You don’t get to repeat this
My greatest fear’s forgiving you
You don’t get to relive this
My deepest sympathies to you"
The first line, “You don’t get to repeat this” not only reminds me of setting boundaries, but also makes me think of the fact that I can take solace in the knowing that no other children will be abused by him. I’m a big believer in the idea that God doesn’t give us any challenges we cannot handle, and if that is true, in a way I’m glad that this childhood was the cross I given to bare, because I AM handling it.
The second line, “My greatest fear’s forgiving you” is only applicable in my angriest moments. When I’m truly, truly deep in the pain and the rage at my father, there’s times I feel like forgiving him is the last thing I want to do. This is the dark space where I want him to suffer, where I want him to hurt in all the ways he hurt me, where I want him to feel the torment of loss, abuse, physical anguish, and neglect.
The last two lines, “You don’t get to relive this, My deepest sympathies to you” bring to mind the 6 year old he left, the teenager he mostly ignored, the young adult he abandoned, and man he’s missing out on watching grow up. I genuinely feel sorry for him that he doesn’t get to be a part of my life. I’m learning my true value – that my heart, creativity, intellect, energy, and so much more are what make me lovable. He doesn’t get the opportunity to see the things that I’ve built. He doesn’t get the chance to go back in time to my graduations, my awards ceremonies, my sports games – and that makes me feel sympathy towards him – because there’s an incredible man behind those accomplishments, an incredible man writing these words.
I know that forgiveness is really a gift that I give to myself. That forgiveness is taking my power back and not continuing to carry the weight, the blame, the anger. I know all of these things- I’ve read more self-help books than any 29 year old you’ve met. And in doing so, I found a phrase that has been my go-to motto for dealing with difficult emotions, “the only way out is through”. So I know I need to fully immerse myself in that anger in order for it to pass.
I’ve thought about screaming off the top of a mountain until my vocal cords die out, or taking a baseball bat to everything in sight, or smashing my fists into the dirt so hard I can create a fissure deep enough to mirror the one in my heart. And maybe that’s exactly what I need to get the anger out. Maybe, doing each of those will empty the wounded vessel inside that’s still carrying the torment, negative self image, and heart break of a 6 year old who lost nearly everything.
And maybe then I’ll be ready to forgive him. To move on. To set that vessel down. And to move forward, weightless.
But right now, I’m not done being angry.
Strategic Account Manager with Walmart Data Ventures
3 年Beautiful article! "The only way out is through" made me think about something I recently heard. People say 'fake it, till ya make it' and I agree BUT I heard "Face it, till ya make it." and it hit a whole new level of feels. I, fortunately, had my dad my whole life, however, I didn't really have my dad my whole life. (It was really only the past 10 years of our lives that he was fully present). Until that point, he was busy fighting his own battles that I later came to realized what they truly were since his unexpected death. Since his death, I've had time to reflect on his life, how it affected in return how it affected and me, and what he was really trying to say to me in our conversations during the past 10 years. In these 10 years before he died, he was just beginning to actually face it and not fake it regarding his childhood struggles. Our relationship grew a lifetime in those 10 years leading up to his death. I'm so proud of you for taking the initiative to face it, by going through it and dealing. Your future wife, children, and family thank you! You are truly an example of a Man! Keep fighting the battle! I promise it is worth it! Said from as a child of a man who finally found himself!
Expert Cognitive Release Coach TM and Executive Coach who helps high achievers release the busy brain and regain time, energy, and productivity. Let it go, so you can flow! Author I Coach | Consultant I Speaker|
3 年Thanks for sharing your healing process, Frank. Powerful honesty.