I used to hold grudges like proof that I was harmed and hurt. I was afraid to forget, and so hatred and holding a grudge became that proof inside, unerased. I felt erased. The grudge became a kind of friend when no one else was there to validate my reality, my feelings, and my experiences. Those who have a habit of harming rarely show up to take responsibility or bring healing, and so the burden becomes the beginning and blossoming of grudgery.
Once I recognized that the grudge was holding me up instead of creating any healing or change, I began to soften and to long for freedom from those spaces that kept me captive in the past. It is a very personal choice, and I am grateful for the choice to grow from my wounds.
That said, I will never forget those who were careless with my heart, body, and mind. I forgive, and I remember with peace inside. Grief is free to come in waves, sometimes even decades later, and that is what healing is: patience, giving myself space to feel when I am ready, and tending to the hurt as it reappears in my conscious mind.
I give myself grace. Remembering holds boundaries. Grudges are a cage, while remembering is a key.
© 2025 Raven | Jasmine on the Grave. All rights reserved.
Jasmine on the Grave 
Forgiving, letting go of grudges, really is a process, isn’t it, Jasmine, not a one-and-done.
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Yes, I’m grateful you know that too, Mitch. Forgiveness really is a process, and healing is as well, and it is okay that it is.
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