The truth is, forgiveness means different things to different people.
I no longer carry hatred toward her. I don’t relive the anger every day. But forgiveness does not mean allowing dangerous people back into your life.
Especially when they refuse to admit the harm they caused.
Every winter, when the air turns cold and the windows frost at the edges, I remember lying on that balcony unable to feel my hands.
But then I look at my son running through the living room laughing, alive and healthy despite everything that happened.
And I remember something even more important:
Some people enter your life to teach you where love exists.
Others enter your life to teach you where boundaries are necessary.