Skip to main content

The Epitome of Forgiveness

My mother is the epitome of forgiveness.

…especially with my father.

She and my father have been married for well over 34 years. With all of the cheating, lies and making kids outside of their marriage (and expecting her to accept all of that) and abuse, my mother has yet to waiver in who she is- a forgiving and loving person (and a dutiful wife.)

She caters to my father-making sure his meals are made and his needs are met. When we go out, she orders him food or takes her leftovers. She always gets him a birthday gift and remembers their anniversary. She rarely raises her voice to him even when he yells. She just lets things go.

When I was younger, I used to think she was a complete doormat. “I don’t understand why she won’t stay mad at him!” I would think. In actuality, she’s probably one of the strongest women I know. As I got older she confessed to me why she stayed with my father. She said “He may not respect my vows but I do. I know when my last days are here, I’ve done my part in my marriage”. I can’t say I’ve grown that much as a woman. Besides the fact that my mother and I are from different generations, I definitely wasn’t there in my own marriage. If I was, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a divorce.

In terms of my own relationships (especially with men), I will say that my ability for forgiveness has grown leaps and bounds. I was able to eventually forgive my ex husband and grow a better friendship with him. I told myself that if I was able to forgive him, then I can open myself up, heal my heart, and be able to love again.

Someone recently accused me of being jaded (and even bitter). A few blogs, tweets and Facebook statuses, and people think they have you all figured out. Well...they are wrong. I am hopelessly romantic. I truly love men. I love love. I really don’t hold grudges too long. One of my fellow bloggers said it’s virtually impossible for Southern women to be bitter and unforgiving. I laughed but he might be right. I think of all of the hurt and pain the women in my family went through. Marriages to wife beaters, drug addicts, cheaters and liars. This isnt to say that they didn't have their own faults but they were able to forgive and eventually love again. I only have one aunt that is bitter, resentful and unforgiving. As a result, it has been nearly 10 years since her last relationship or physical contact with a man. Truth of the matter is, she is lonely and defeated. I definitely don’t want to be her. I want to love again.

So I say to the man I will love:

I already forgive you for the mistakes you will make...the chances you will take...the hurt you may cause and the human being that you are.

I already forgive you for the words you will say and the words you WONT say.

I already forgive you. Because I already love you

Now and forever more.

I’m open.

I’m ready.

I’m forgiving.

I’m love.


  1. This is a beautiful post. One of my favorites of yours so far. You are right... it takes a real woman to be able to forgive someone for past transgressions. And it (the ability to forgive wholly and completely) is not something that comes easily but, as you've indicated, with time and maturity.

    Btw, so off topic, but did I tell you the new blog look is HAWT?!!! I love it!

  2. very sweet... very hopeful. i feel the same way (dealing with women). no matter who you deal with, we're people first... which makes us imperfect in some (or many) ways. not to use any of the cliches from the article i referenced in my most recent blog but... "he's out there" LOL!

  3. A post and sentiment for the ages.

    In actuality, she’s probably one of the strongest women I know. Yep. I thought the same while reading. It is a beautiful thing when a woman can be so strong in her strength that it allows others to draw strength. I had always considered it strong for you to remain friends with your ex-husband. Not many women can or do, so that is admirable.

    I told myself that if I was able to forgive him, then I can open myself up, heal my heart, and be able to love again. I sense zero amount of bitterness here. Very forgiving sista.

    As a result, it has been nearly 10 years since her last relationship or physical contact with a man. Truth of the matter is, she is lonely and defeated. Hey mon...why don't you invite your aunt out to the dancehall so that she can lose herself in the moment? I am sure that deep down inside she would love such an encounter.

  4. know my aunt hates all things foreign (Her baby father is Nigerian...) so she wouldnt go for it (LMAO!) Good idea though!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

2018: A Year Without Fear

I used to make these lofty, resolution goals each year. The older I got, the grander my ideas became. That is until I reached the age of 30 and my entire life shifted.

At the time, I was divorced, living totally on my own, trying to rebuild myself financially and trying to figure out my next move toward happiness. That was at the time I started this blog.... which started out as my chronicling the dating and mating of a 30 something divorcee' in the South's Largest Metropolis. I was trying to date. I was trying to establish myself financially. And I was trying to find my purpose.

So much has changed in the almost 9 years since I started this blog. I've traveled alone. I gained and lost friends. I got into a Ph.D. program. I got re-married. I lost my mother, my best friend.... not to mention my uncle, cousin, and aunt. I gained a sweet baby girl.  I went from getting my bliss.... to trying to balance that bliss with my own life..... Yet in trying to find the balance, I alw…

I Had Hope For Other Hair: Confessions in Black Motherhood

I had hoped for other hair...
(My Little One Reading a Book Before Bed)

... for my daughter.

No, I didn't want her to have "good hair"... hair that ebbed and flowed close to the weight of Whiteness. I didn't want that for her.  I didn't want her to have hair that was deemed "managable" or "a good grade". as if you can give hair letter grades or grade it on a curve.

I just wanted her to have any hair other than MY hair. She inherited my hair. And I cried.

When I found out I was having a girl, anxiety was replaced with dread. "Dear God.. I have to learn how to do hair". See, growing up, my mother was my stylist, even way into high school. So in between salon visits, she would relax or press my hair. She'd style it or comb it. And I never worried about it. I tried and tried to do my own hair... and failed. The only style I could keep up were Brandy-inspired box braids (which some poor, Senegalese woman would do for hours) or a very sho…

The Art of the Dirty Talk

I am the queen of talking dirty after dark. I mean I am GOOD at it. VERY good. So much so I dated a guy and for months..all he wanted me to do was speak nasty to him. We never has sex. Nothing. Just a bunch of dirty talk....and he was happy. (Hey..a very safe sex fetish!) Heck..I'm even considering picking up some extra income in this economy and becoming a phone sex job does NOT pay enough.

I will say there is an ART to dirty talk. You cant be shy. You cant be a prude and say things 1) you are not comfortable saying and 2) that you certainly can't back up if you are in a position to act on those things with a trust partner. 3 ) things you have no real reference point of familiarity with. Don;t say you are down for a "golden shower" if you think that has something to do with "lemonade kool-aid". DOn't pretend to have a weird accent. That would be ROLE playing..and not "talking dirty". BUT a lot of "talking dirty" is role…