I’m Turning 30 And I Don’t Ever Want To Be Bitter

I find myself, at 30, trying constantly to keep a positive mindstate. It’s hard not to be bitter. I fail on some days; head down unintented pathways. I always forgive myself afterwards, though. It’s important to me, this act of self-forgiveness.

Acts of forgiveness are only spoken of, and only seem fitting, when directed at anyone and anything other than ourselves. “Forgive them, for they know not what they’re doing,” even the Bible tells us.

Forgive anything. Forgive anyone but the self.

I’ve learned that if I am to be fully committed to living, as opposed to merely existing, I’ll have to forgive myself many times over. It is in the act of self-forgiveness, I’ve found, that I’ve been able to let go of other limiting externalities with little effort.

I wanted to write about the importance of family; of maintaining a support structure; of nurturing friendships; of letting go many times over, dying, and resurrecting. I’ll save that for some other time.

For now, on my 30th birthday, I don’t want to be bitter. I want to be better at forgiving myself.


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