I am a typical teenage girl. In a span of 20 minutes I can laugh, cry, scream, proclaim my love for men, proclaim my hate for men, and then order a pizza. To put it simply, I am not free from the constraints of emotion. In my 18 years, I've been though enough hardship to feel anger in all of its forms. Despite these inconveniences, I refuse to talk like the world is out to get me. I am not a victim. No. I've made mistakes and felt their consequences, just like any other flawed human being. What makes me different is the way I've handled misfortune. As a child, I was taught to stand up for myself. I will teach my children to do the same, but I will emphasize the difference between defense and revenge.
The year I turned 11 was a test of my faith. On October 31, my neighbor passed away in a tragic accident. Death is difficult to cope with at any age, but even more complicated when you haven't finished growing yet. Within the same week, my father got into a car accident that nearly cost him his life. These events introduced me to a darkness I had never felt before, but in a strange way, they brought me light. Rather than turn away from God and curse the universe for being unfair, I started to see the beauty in choosing forgiveness. I could've easily retaliated. I could have taken out my anger on my innocent friends, but I didn't see what good could come out of destructive behavior. While 11 year olds aren't typically praised for their wisdom, the lessons I learned would clearly influence my decision making process throughout high school and into young adulthood.
As I got older, forgiving got harder. Every time I was treated poorly I faced an internal battle. My classmates and peers preached the necessity of revenge; fighting fires with fires everywhere I looked. Their actions and words were persuasive. In fact, I often found myself indulging in retaliation, only to be consumed by guilt. I started to realize that revenge is just another word for hate. What joy can come out of hate? What love, trust, or strength can form when our hearts are cold and are minds are closed? To wrong another person simply because they have wronged us cannot be justified.
While I am not truly fit to boast about my morality, I am smart enough to observe how humans treat each other. Being kind and learning to forgive is not an act of religion. It does not mean we allow ourselves to be walked all over. It means that we can stop and think before we judge others. We can let karma come to those who will receive it, and spend our time loving before all else.
