To my mother. For staying blind to all that she wanted to give me. Tried.
K.
Myself for sure … for the times I abandoned myself, ignored my instincts, allowed myself to be in circumstances or situations that didn’t serve me, times I didn’t speak up for my truth. Times I didn’t protect myself.
S.
To my ex-wife for cheating on her and being controlling.
W.
I would apologize to my mother for blaming her alcoholism for symptoms and behaviors that actually had a great deal more to do with a rare genetic condition that we share.
G
To my ex-husband for blaming him for the ending of our marriage, when it was the ego on steroids for both of us that led to our demise.
J
This is something I actually did. On my mother’s deathbed. I started to tell her I forgave her for all she did to me, but at the last second, I asked for her forgiveness for how I’d responded all my life, even when I was young. I’m not sure I got the release I would have liked, but I’m convinced it was the better thing to do.
D
I would apologize to anyone that has experienced less than 100 percent presence. We owe each other full and compassionate attention.
A
For my children who I failed who think they failed me. What am I am I asking forgive for?
For burdening them with my flows, childhood trauma where they had to mother me. They had to protect me from their father, this was not a job for a 12 yr old, 17yr old and I built resilience over time.
I attempted to care and protect them from the harms I endured but both my. Ow adult children understood care as control.
I’m deeply sorry for this pain and suffering that I placed in my children’s shoulders.
R
I apologize, but don’t ask for forgiveness. When I apologize I assume I have done harm and don’t want to do a further harm by somehow shifting the onus to the one harmed , by asking them to be able to forgive, for my insensitivity etc. What takes courage for me is the apology. I want to have the courage to never be forgiven for my harms by the person I harmed. I do work on forgiving myself. Admitting begins a process where I may return to my life less blind, and as a changed or changing person.
J
To my son Travis, who died when he was 23 from an accidental overdose. He was in college in San Antonio and someone turned him on to heroin. Can you imagine? But for my part, as his mother, I questioned for many years what would have made him try it. What millions of tiny, daily choices as a mom, might have contributed to this? I cannot say I am sorry enough to him…
M
To my mother. For staying blind to all that she wanted to give me. Tried.