You did the best you could with what you knew, what you had, and where you were.

So did they.

That doesn’t make it okay.
That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

But it means you no longer have to carry it all.

Forgiveness isn’t forgetting.

It’s not erasing or excusing.
It’s unbinding.

It’s choosing to stop dragging the past into your present like a bag of broken glass you keep checking for sharp edges.

You are allowed to remember without reliving. To heal without reopening.

To forgive yourself for who you were before you knew what you know now.

To say: This shaped me, but it doesn’t define me.

Not because it wasn’t heavy, but because you are ready to set it down.