Confessions of a Retired Angry Girl

I used to be an expressive girl. I spoke my mind without hesitation, fought for what I believed was right, and never cared if my words cut too deep. For me, it was enough to be heard, to make my point clear even if it meant hurting people along the way.

But here’s the twist: behind that bold, tough-looking girl was a certified cry-baby. Yeah. I was, in truth, a cry-baby. Almost everything that upset me brought me to tears. My Mama used to say that people avoided making jokes around me because I was too grumpy and easily offended. And yes, when I felt wronged, I held onto that grudge, sometimes for far too long.

Then came fifth grade. The year I officially got my "bullying survivor" badge. I can still recall the names, the faces, the whispers. One of my classmates, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named spread rumors that made me look awful. But here's the more plotted twist: while they were busy laughing, I was busy topping the class. Revenge is sweet, but success? EVEN SWEETER. 

Fast forward to college. I found my partner-in-crime, Joanna. We were the perfect definition of Yin and Yang. She was quiet and chill; I was… well, not quiet and definitely not chill. Whenever we landed in trouble, I was the one doing all the talking, explaining, and more often than not, arguing. I had no patience for injustice and couldn’t stand people who silenced themselves in the face of unfairness. It fueled my anger. I wanted to be their voice, their defender, their hero.

Looking back, I realize I was consumed with anger. I hated the world, hated weakness, hated silence. And yet, there are days when I miss that girl. The one who was unafraid to speak, unafraid of consequences, unafraid to be disliked.

Now, I am no longer that angry girl. I find it harder to raise my voice, even at myself. I swallow words I wish I could say. I tell myself it’s better to sacrifice than to create conflict. But deep inside, I know the silence hurts just as much as the anger once did.

Still, my journey is no longer about rage—it’s about grace. As I draw closer to God, I find myself learning to release the burdens I once carried: the anger, the rage, the loneliness, the despair. They no longer define me. I just want love. 

Now, my heart longs to ask: How far can love go?

Because at the end of it all, it is not anger that saves us. It is love.

And that’s the love I want not the shallow kind, not the conditional kind, but a love that runs deep and wide. Love for God, who never gave up on me. Love for myself, so I can finally forgive the girl I used to be. Love for my family and friends, who stood by me through every season. And yes, even love for those who hurt me so badly, because carrying bitterness only chains me to the past.

This is the kind of love I choose now. The kind that heals, restores, and sets me free.

And I am so proud of who I am now. 

To Forgive and Forget, or to Forgive but Not Forget

There are moments in life that cut so deep, they stay with us forever. I've had my share of hurt. The kind that makes you question people, love, even yourself. Sometimes, the pain builds walls around us, making it hard to trust again. And yet, life keeps asking us this timeless question: When we're wronged, do we forgive and forget, or do we forgive but never forget?

I used to think forgiveness was simple. You say sorry, you move on, you forget. But as I've grown older, I realized forgiveness isn't that easy. It's layered, messy, and very personal. 

Curious about how others see it, I asked some random friends, and people closest to me about their own take on forgiveness. What they shared gave me a deeper perspective, and honestly? It touched my heart in ways I didn't expect.

OMAR's honesty stayed with me. He said:

"For me, with my personality, I cannot forget at all. But in life, I believe we must forgive and forget. Because if you don't forget, then you haven''t truly forgiven 100%. There will always be something left in your heart. So, ideally, forgive and forget. But honestly for me, I forgive, but I cannot forget"

I could hear the struggle in his words. The desire to let go fully, but also the reality that forgetting isn't always possible. I felt that. Sometimes, our minds replay the pain even when our hearts want peace. 

Then there's JABIR, who has a more guarded view:

"No, if anyone do, ah like anyone do for me bad, I make that one more badly for him. I will forgive sure but I will not forget because you know if you forget 1st time, second time they will do it again. They repeat one by one. They may not do it today, or tomorrow, but the next day, they will hurt you again. So I will forgive yes but I will never forget."

His words reminded me of self-preservation. Forgiving doesn't mean giving people a free pass to keep wounding us. Forgetting too easily can sometimes open the door to repeated hurt.

ROSSENGEL - my rock and my gentle reminder of faith - told me something that warmed my heart:

"Forgive and love - that's biblical mommy. Love your enemy and do not hold on to the past, but look ahead to what is good. Humanly speaking, that's not easy to do, but in time we can learn, because that's truly the right thing to do."

Hearing him speak reminded me that forgiveness, at its highest form, is an act of grace. It's not about whether the person deserves it, but whether we choose to free ourselves from carrying the weight of resentment.

YUMA's answer hit me differently - it felt raw, unfiltered, and real:

"I don't forgive nor forget. As an empath, I find it difficult to forgive a person or forget the things that he did to me. Most specially if it's from a family member, friends, or someone dear to me. It might seem selfish, but those actions speak louder to me, means you really don't care about how would that make me feel and that's disappointing knowing that I do care. So I would retract from that situation, make you feel like a complete stranger, like I never knew or let you come into my life."

Her words made me pause. Not forgiving at all may sound harsh, but I understood her pain. Sometimes protecting your heart means walking away completely. 

Then came JOANNA, with the wisdom of someone who has grown through experiences:

"To forgive but not forget. My younger self will choose the first one but as you grow older man gud, you see through people's pretentiousness, and intentions. That is why you forgive but don't forget especially when it comes to your self. You forgive yourself but don't forget the lesson."

That one struck a chord with me. It's true. Age teaches us to balance compassion with caution. Forgiveness can be a gift, but memory becomes our teacher.

Finally, ANILA put it beautifully and simply:

"Forgive but don't forget. We're all human, and nobody is perfect. But we should never forget the lesson we've learned from being hurt."

Her words tied everything together because isn't that what life is? A series of lessons, often disguised as wounds. 

As I listened to all of them, I realized forgiveness isn't a straight path. It looks different for each of us. Some forgive and let go completely, some hold onto the memory to protect themselves, and some struggle to forgive at all. 

I used to think forgiving and forgetting was the "right" way, but now I believe it's more about what brings peace to your heart. Sometimes peace means letting go entirely. Sometimes it means remembering so you don't repeat the same mistake. And sometimes it means stepping back and choosing yourself.

Whatever forgiveness looks like for you, I hope it leads you to healing. Not just for the other person, but for yourself. Because at the end of the day, forgiveness is less about erasing the past, and more about freeing our hearts to move forward. 

ⓒphoto from dreamstime