Tessa ReneeForgiveness is easy. People think it’s the hardest part, but honestly? Letting go of anger feels good. It’s lighter. It takes less energy to forgive than to carry rage around like a second skin. But forgetting? That’s where the softness ends and the steel begins.
I’ve forgiven people who didn’t deserve it. I’ve let things slide for the sake of peace, for the sake of moving forward, for the sake of keeping my own heart unpoisoned. But let me be clear: forgiveness does not erase memory. You might hear me say “it’s okay,” but behind my smile is a catalog of every betrayal, every lie, every sharp word I swallowed.
It’s not revenge I want. It’s awareness. Forgetting would mean lowering my guard, and I’ve learned the hard way that people repeat patterns. They slip back into old habits the second you convince yourself it’s safe to trust blindly again. And I don’t do blind anymore.
I’ll forgive you. I’ll laugh with you again. I might even let things feel normal on the surface. But deep down, the file is still open. The memory is still alive. Not because I want to hold it against you, but because it reminds me what I deserve.
Soft doesn’t mean stupid. Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. My heart is open, but it has teeth. And if you try to cross me again, don’t be surprised when I show you I kept the receipts.
Final Word: My grace has memory, and my memory has claws.
Disclaimer: This is survival strategy, not therapy advice. Don’t confuse forgiveness with amnesia.
Tessa Renee
