Forgiving Myself for Being Human

My  sister, Becky,lived with my parents and me until I was nine. Then after much struggle with learning about retardation, my parents admired her into a center for the mentally challenged/retarded individuals.

When Becky lived with us and throughout my childhood, I always wanted to sit in the front seat when traveling and commuting. My maniacal solution was to elbow and pinch her until she audibly displayed discomfort. My mother would then pull into the outside of the right lane so I could be separated from her by placing more in the front seat. I would gloat with satisfaction.

However, that ended when she was registered and placed in the rehabilitation center. Even the night she was given to the state department, I cried. My cunning act of getting my way plagued my life for over a decade. I would tell oder people how bad I was as a sister and what I did that had me haunted.

Finally, one man told me I was acting life a child while being one. This was very enlightening to hear. My response to this knowledge was forgiving myself. Afterwards, I no longer felt stifled by acting like a child at the young age range of four to nine. As my Love days, “Forgiveness is the willingness to experience something you are unwilling to experience so that you can let it go.”

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