Truth, Then Forgiveness

From error to error, one discovers the entire truth. Sigmund Freud

The open-minded see the truth in different things: the narrow-minded see only the differences. Unknown Source

For a very long time, I held a grudge against my mother for keeping the truth from me. I still feel pangs of hurt when I think about how clueless, yet suspecting, I was of what my mother was doing to our family. I didn’t “officially” know my mother was having an affair until one of my best friends told me in high school, many years after it had already occurred. I didn’t confront her for a very long time.

It was weeks after my maternal grandmother had just passed that I had found out. Feeling lost and depressed from having experienced a death, the truth had caused me to break down internally. It became too much for me. A couple months after, during one of my crying episodes by myself, I experienced this out of body trance and had felt a connection to my grandmother who had just passed. I confronted both my parents about the whole situation. I told them that I knew and I hated them for acting like everything was okay. I felt especially betrayed by my mother. Was love, marriage, and partnership all just a lie?

I went through a phase of where I blamed my mom for everything and rebelled against both my parents. I fought with them constantly. I was never home, drank, did drugs, and started smoking. What was the icing on the cake? I revoked my belief in God and all things Catholic. I was horrible to my mom, yet she was constantly there for me. She even bought me a car, thinking it would help ease our tension. She continued to love and reach out to me.

My mother and I just recently (within the last two years) reconnected with each other. She has apologized for hurting me. She has even said she sees the mistakes she made and knows now how much my dad means to her and our family. It took me a while to finally take a step back and look at my mother as another human being. I believe it might have been selfish of me to remind her of her mistakes. I realize now that all humans are meant to make mistakes (as well as not wired to be monogamous.) I still feel afraid of repeating the same mistakes she has made but I keep reminding myself that my mother is her own person, just like I am my own individual. I shouldn’t look to acquire the bad qualities, but be grateful for having received more good from her.