The Art of Forgiveness

I've done a lot of stupid things in my day (I know, you're surprised, right?):

There was that time in Middle School when mistook the Boys' room for the Girls' room by accident and got caught taking a pee in the stall with no door.

There was that time in High School that I drank so much I woke up on the bathroom floor of my friend's house lying next to her golden retriever in a puddle of my own vomit.

There was that time in College when I got a D in Women's Studies because I simply refused to go to the class OR read the text book. How I passed at all is still a mystery...

And of course, there was that little, itty-bitty mistake of marrying The Ex, which resulted in 3 years of hell and possibly a restraining order against him.

Whoops. Can a sistah get a re-do?

But among all of those times in my life when my behavior was less-than-stellar, one time that's left a particularly bitter taste in my mouth was the time when I "dumped" my closest college friend shortly after graduating.

If anyone is wondering, regret tastes like brussel sprouts and asthma inhaler.

I won't delve too deeply into the circumstances surrounding my heinous act of de-friendship, but needless to say, I was completely in the wrong, and the "dump" had everything to do with my own stupid issues and nothing to do with how this girl treated me. We had met freshman year and instantly became like sisters. We lived in tight quarters, sharing every aspect of our lives, for 4 years. We studied together, drank together, nursed our hangovers together...everything. And then I met THE STUPID EX, who convinced me that she wasn't a good friend, and EVEN-MORE-STUPID ME fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Some call it brainwashing. I call it a 22-year-old who didn't (and still pretty much doesn't) have the good sense god gave a doorknob.

Either way...

Commence lingering sense of shame

Now, skip ahead 5 years:

As luck would have it, I came across this woman on facebook. After seeing her comments on some silly college pictures posted by a mutual friend, suddenly all that shame and regret that I had been trying hard to forget came boiling to the surface like liquid hot MAG-MAH. I thought about the good times we had together. And then I though about my last words to her. And then I got nauseus, because I had been, quite frankly, a bitch of epic proportions to her.

So finally, after all this time, I did what I should have done back in 2004.

I apologized.
As whole-heartedly and sincerely as I could.

For the first time in a long time, I was 100% honest with this woman, and with myself. I confessed that the real reason for my bitch-fest had nothing to do with her. I acknowledged that she had been a true friend and I totally stabbed her in the back. I admitted that I had been a complete scum-bag and I asked to be forgiven.

I've heard that saying "I'm sorry" is a difficult thing to do, and maybe it is, if deep-down you feel even minutely vindicated by your actions. But for me, saying "I'm Sorry" was easy; it came tumbling out after years of bottling it up, and pushing it aside. All the things I ever wanted to say came flowing out of me before I even had a chance to question what I saying.

Was I embarassed to be groveling and admitting that I had been an ass-hat all those years ago? Hell yes. But I deserved it. More importantly, she deserved to hear me admit that I had been in the wrong. Like, WAY in the wrong. Very far from the right.

Amazingly, she's written it off as water under the bridge and is ready to start repairing our relationship. To be sure, she's a way bigger person than I could ever hope to be. But self-forgiveness isn't as easily obtained. That incident has been a persistent blight on my over-all self image. Despite her generousness, I can't help but feel that I owe her a debt that demands be repaid before I can truly count this incident as "over". I can only hope to make it up to her in the years ahead by once again proving myself to be a loyal, trustworthy, and deserving friend.

N___, thanks for accepting my apology. You're still as kick-ass cool as you were in college, and I promise I'll never DeBo you like that again.

You have my word.