The Weight of Forgetting

I still remember the smell of my grandmother's kitchen, the way the sunlight danced through the dusty windows, and the sound of her warm voice whispering words of comfort. Those memories, though etched in my mind like a scar, have become a burden I've struggled to carry for years.

It wasn't until I hit rock bottom that I realized forgetting wasn't about erasing the pain; it was about learning to let go of the weight that held me back. The weight of remembering every hurt, every failure, and every regret. The weight of carrying the ghosts of my past selves.

I thought forgetting meant I'd lost a part of myself, but what I've come to realize is that it's okay to release the parts that no longer serve me. It's okay to acknowledge the pain and then let it go, like releasing a balloon into the sky.

The problem with holding onto the past is that it can become a toxic relationship. We start to define ourselves by our scars, rather than our strength. We tie our worth to the weight we carry, rather than the beauty of who we are in this moment.

But what if forgetting wasn't about erasing the hurt? What if it was about acknowledging the pain and then choosing to move forward? What if it was about finding a way to honor the lessons learned while leaving the weight behind?

I'm not saying it's easy. I'm not saying it's something we can do overnight. But what I am saying is that it's worth trying. Worth fighting for.

So, let's make a pact to ourselves to be kinder to our past selves. To acknowledge the pain and then release the weight. To honor the lessons learned while leaving the scars behind. Because in doing so, we're not erasing who we've been; we're creating space for who we're meant to be.

And when the memories come flooding back, as they inevitably will, let's take a deep breath and remind ourselves that we're not defined by our past. We're defined by our strength, our resilience, and our willingness to let go.