By: Winona Young, Staff Writer
We were standing out on the street and began what I call “the awkward after-dinner shuffle.”
We’ve all done the dance: lots of lingering, questions about commutes, checking the time, until you finally spit out what you’ve wanted to say/do the entire night. For me, it was an apology. One that’s been bottled up for years, and in my eyes, long overdue:
“By the way, (her name), I just wanted to say: I’m sorry again for everything.”
So here’s the thing about fucking up when you’re still growing up — it is 100% inevitable that you will hurt other people’s feelings. Intentional or not, it will happen. And the thing about fucking up is that apologizing is 100% compulsory. Forgiveness is optional, but recommended.
When it comes to forgiving yourself, it really is worth doing. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
What I was apologizing for in particular happened three years ago. It all began with being thousands of miles away from her — with different time zones, with texts, and with talks that tapered out over two or three months. It ended with an essay-long confrontation over text.
I won’t get into the messy details of “I said/she said,” but what I remember myself doing was talking behind a friend’s back, making offhand comments that weren’t true, and no apologizing. The thing about fucking up monumentally for the first time is that you don’t realize you’ve fucked up until after it all ends.
Being cut out of someone’s life is a process done slowly and very quietly. Weekly Skype calls are delayed by a few days, then by weeks. Snapchats and messages are left on “Seen.” And when you’re asked by mutual friends, “How is so-and-so?” you pause and think, “I wouldn’t really know.”
My friends counted my theory as overactive paranoia — that so-and-so wouldn’t do that, she’s too nice for shit like that. I’d nod my head, and we’d move on, but a nagging feeling would remain in the back of my mind.
Like I said before, the ending of that friendship was messy. It was done over text (pro-tip for any relationship: don’t fight over text). Our chat had paragraph-long replies that might as well have been double-spaced, MLA-formatted, and properly cited, given the amount of detail we went into. It ended with a mutual resolution that we were OK, and that come August, we’d grab a coffee and stay friends.
That August coffee date never did end up happening, and for the better part of two years, it kind of . . . haunted me. Now, while I may be extra as hell when it comes to reactions, I feel my emotions as softly as a brick to the face. But I chalked up the fact that we never met up (which came up to timing, and it being Too Soon in hindsight) to be, well, my fault.
That fall also happened to be the first year I spent at SFU, and when the fall rush of parties and hangouts simmered down with the months getting colder, I was filled with a lot of regret about how I handled our deteriorating friendship.
There wasn’t a day that went by that I thought of the friend I lost — they were someone I could see myself being friends with for as long as I’d be here (give me a break, I was 19), and it was a very sobering reality that the break happened without me wanting it, and in some part, without me even noticing.
I reached out again in October to see if we could try another coffee date and she told me that she was busy with settling and school. So was I, and I offered to go all the way to her school, but she had places and people to see that weren’t, well, me. I respected her choice, and thought maybe it was still too soon.
It was definitely too soon, and I was painfully reminded of how this entire mess was My Fault. I replayed every moment we had together, (some of the good ones, but mostly the bad,) and tried to pinpoint just which memories foreshadowed our friendship ending.
The thing about being young and in university is that we are surrounded by people going through the same things we are. This is both a good and bad thing. Pro: you have people who are going through what you’re going through, and if you’re lucky, you’ll have finally found someone who can understand. Con: you’re at risk of hurting each other when the day arrives that both of your issues come crashing into each other.
It’s inevitable that people will hurt you, but it is also inevitable that you will hurt other people. Depending on how much of a guilty conscience you have, you will feel a little ashamed of yourself. Guilt has a way of following you around — it stains memories like the smell of cigarettes sticking to your clothes, lingering and resilient. So I stayed away from messaging her for a good two years.
This wasn’t because I didn’t want to, but because I still thought that maybe what I did ruined us beyond repair. I still of course wondered how she was, if she still thought of me, and more importantly if she had forgiven me. It was the last part that held me back, because I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear that answer.
So when I finally got the opportunity to meet with her and give her my apology in-person, my estranged-friend-turned-friend-again, her response surprised me.
“By the way, (her name), I just wanted to say, I’m sorry again for everything.”
She shook her head resolutely, and brushed my apology off. She said, “No dude, I’m sorry too. It was so long ago.”
I remember looking at my shoes and feeling relief, but my stomach was still in knots. Why? She continued.
“I mean, I was 21 back then, it was so long ago. That, and I know our falling out must’ve really hurt you too.”
I nodded, and I felt validated she recognized my pain. We said our goodbyes with a hug. There were a few cursory jokes exchanged as we parted, and made the resolution to keep in touch.
As I left, I realized how quietly and quickly that resolution between us happened. More so, I realized that, while my as-of-late estranged friend forgave me for everything that happened, I hadn’t forgiven myself in all this time.
Guilt is an unproductive emotion. You agonize and beat yourself up for what you did and you wallow in that feeling for too damn long. Forgiving yourself isn’t about giving the past you a free pass on the mistakes they made, but about recognizing that what you did was wrong, and about making the resolution to become better.
That, and forgiveness is being fair. Because while taking responsibility for your past mistakes of course is very important to do, constantly beating yourself up for what Past You did isn’t fair to Past You. That young kid didn’t know any better — they learned, they grew, and they owned up to it. More importantly, they became You.
TL;DR — I was a real dumb bitch, but I forgave myself for being a dumb bitch, and you should too.
