What’s your favorite thing about yourself?
I know there are people that will argue with me about this. How it’s a flaw, a negative quirk of being me. But my favorite thing about myself is my compassion. By extension, my capacity for forgiveness.
Trigger warning: discussion of sexual assault.
There are exactly three people on this planet I can’t forgive. One is dead. One is not. One is… well, a registered sex offender and I hope she burns in whatever hell she believes in.
Some close to me will know my story. I’m a sexual assault survivor, unfortunately multiple times over. The one who is dead? That’s my stepfather. He… broke me with his abuse. I spent the last twenty years rebuilding what he tried to destroy.
The registered sec offender; that one isn’t my story to tell. Suffice it to say she hurt someone very dear to me. And lost everything because of it. I couldn’t be gladder.
The last, the one whose mere mention makes my chest hurt, knows who they are, I think. That’s enough for me.
Everyone else, I’m able to forgive. Anyone else, I’m able to offer compassion.
Forgive me my flaws, and celebrate with me as I strive to grow.
Maybe someday I’ll find it in me. But today is not that day.
Postmark Wonderland 
Hugs
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