“I need to talk to you about something,” I said to my husband one night before going to sleep.
“Oh, oh, sounds serious,” he answered.
“It is!” I continued, “I know through the years there have been times I’ve said some really mean things to you and got mad at you too often. I know I apologized right away, but I need to know: Have you forgiven me for those times?”
“Honey,” he put his arms around me. “I forgave you as soon as they happened. I knew when you said them that you didn’t mean them. You were just overtired and overworked.”
“You mean, I’ve carried the guilt all these years, and you had already forgiven me?” Relief overwhelmed me.
I was born with a guilt complex. It attached itself to my DNA in the delivery room, and continued to be my lifelong partner for years. I felt guilty…
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