I forgive you
For burying your grief in the grave with him,
Just to make your tears small
So you wouldn’t have to be different from the other kids,
For pushing it down until you were older
And finally ready to admit that you’ve needed your dad in your life,
That a part of you has craved him every single day for the past twenty-something years
And it’s okay to miss him.
I forgive you
For every large display of intense emotion used as a cry for help,
Each one, an attempt to save you from the deep-rooted pain of loss you were to afraid to feel,
Constantly seeking help from the unavailable ones
Over and over again
To prove that the story you’ve been telling yourself is true,
The one that says you’re “too much,” “not enough,” and everything in between.
I forgive you for the way your wounds have hurt others,
And for giving your power to them
Because you struggle to believe that you have everything inside of you
That it takes to make it in the world.
I forgive you for making yourself small,
For being scared to thrive without others’ approval
Or to be okay without them taking care of you,
Without your daddy here to protect you.
I forgive you for always thinking that you’re the problem,
For diminishing your light so others can be seen,
For taking one hit after another
Because you believe it is all you deserve,
For becoming addicted to that pain
Because you still cannot face your own,
Each hit, like a drug, waking up the beautiful lion inside you,
Yet still too afraid to roar.
I forgive you
For thinking there is anything to forgive