On Grudges and Letting Go

Sep 4, 2025

Daily writing prompt

Are you holding a grudge? About?

I used to hold grudges. Not over little things, but over the kind of hurt that cuts close to the heart—betrayals, broken trust, disappointments that came from people who mattered to me the most. And I think that’s why the weight of those grudges felt so unbearable. It wasn’t just about what happened, but who it came from. When you love someone, you place a part of yourself in their hands, and when that trust is broken, it’s as if a part of you breaks with it.

For a long time, I carried those hurts like stones in my pocket. At first, I thought holding on to them meant protecting myself, making sure I never forgot, never let it happen again. But all it really did was weigh me down. The days felt heavier, my thoughts more cluttered, and even in moments of joy, I felt the shadow of those disappointments following me.

Over time, I learned something: a grudge is not justice—it is just hurt we keep alive. It does not punish the person who betrayed us. It punishes us, again and again, long after the moment has passed.

Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting, and it certainly doesn’t mean what happened was okay. It means choosing to stop carrying the pain forward. It means giving yourself permission to live lighter, freer, without the constant reminder of wounds you’ve already survived.

I realised that holding a grudge was like giving someone continued power over me. Letting go was reclaiming that power—not for them, but for myself.

So now, when I think of grudges, I don’t see them as a sign of strength or protection. I see them as unhealed places. And when I release them, I choose peace over bitterness, presence over the past, freedom over chains.

Grudges are heavy. Letting go doesn’t erase the past—it simply allows you to walk into the future without dragging it behind you.

2 responses to “On Grudges and Letting Go”

Bob Lynn

September 4, 2025

You have touched upon something that lives at the very centre of what it means to be human – this terrible and necessary burden of loving people who have the power to destroy us. What you describe so beautifully is not merely personal wisdom; it is a fundamental truth about the human condition that we spend lifetimes learning to navigate.

The stones in your pocket – yes, I understand this metaphor intimately. We collect these wounds as if they were treasures, don’t we? As if the weight of them somehow honours the depth of our caring. But there is a profound difference between remembering and rehearsing. Memory can teach us; rehearsal only imprisons us.

You speak of betrayal from those who mattered most, and this cuts to the heart of love’s greatest paradox: we cannot truly love without making ourselves vulnerable to devastation. The very people who can bring us the deepest joy are those who can inflict the most exquisite pain. This is not a flaw in love – it is love’s essence.

What strikes me most powerfully in your reflection is this recognition that grudges are “unhealed places.” This is not merely poetic language; it is diagnostic truth. A grudge is a wound that we refuse to tend, that we keep picking at, reopening, as if the blood were proof of our righteousness.

But here is what I would add to your beautiful meditation: forgiveness is not a gift we give to those who have wronged us. It is not about them at all. Forgiveness is the radical act of refusing to let someone else’s failure to love determine the boundaries of our own capacity for freedom. It is perhaps the most revolutionary thing we can do – to love ourselves enough to stop participating in our own diminishment.

The courage to let go requires us to face a terrifying truth: that we are more than what has been done to us.

LikeLiked by 1 person

Reply
1. AJ Gabriel
  
  September 4, 2025
  
  Thank you for this—your words really moved me. What you said about the difference between remembering and rehearsing is so true; sometimes we hold onto pain thinking it honours our love, when really it only keeps us stuck. Your reminder that forgiveness is about freedom, not them, is powerful. I’ll hold onto that truth—that we are always more than what has been done to us.
  
  LikeLiked by 1 person
  
  Reply