I forgive you… and now I am going to walk away.

Working in end-of-life care has taught me a lot about life, about how we live it, and what we carry with us.

What I see most often at the end isn’t fear, it is regret. Time spent holding onto anger, the weight of guilt, and the ache of unresolved hurt. And in those final moments, so many people are simply trying to let it go.

I understand that, because I have carried a lot too. A lifetime of experiences, disappointments, and a version of myself shaped by how I thought others saw me. But somewhere along the way, I realized something important: not all of it was mine to carry.

Other people’s pain, their bad days, their projections, and the way they show up in the world, that belongs to them.

And that’s where forgiveness found a new meaning for me.

Forgiveness isn’t about excusing what happened, it is about releasing it. Handing it back and saying, “This is yours, not mine.”

And sometimes, forgiveness also sounds like this:

“I forgive you… and now I am going to walk away.”

Because letting go doesn’t require continued access.

This work has taught me that this is my life too. I don’t have to spend it carrying the past, or other people’s pain, or even my own old stories. I get to choose.

And I choose to let it go.

I choose peace.

I choose space.

I choose to surround myself with kindness, depth, love, and people who feel like light.

And I choose freedom from the weight of it all.

Life is a precious gift. So my message is this… I forgive you, and I am no longer carrying you into the life I still have left to live.

xo

Gabby