I went to another ward yesterday. Because I didn’t even want to be in the same room as her. I wanted to make sure she got the message she really hurt me.
So, I sat there in the back row, slightly uncomfortable, slightly exposed and vulnerable; pasted smile. I actually hesitated with the sacrament. No it’s her, not me!
And one of the talks was on f.o.r.g.i.v.i.n.g.
Pretty much what I didn’t want to hear. But, per usual — what I needed to hear.
I’m not ready. I know I will get there, but I’m not at the point where I can say it’s OK. It’s OK that she treated me like an invisible moron who is less important than anyone else working at the school. It’s not important that she yelled at me in front of students. It’s not OK that she practically called me ‘J****.’ It’s not OK that she offered this tiny apology and thought that was enough. It’s not OK that she hasn’t gone to the principal and the administrators and undone the damage. It’s just not.
No. I’m going to keep this hurt and hold on to it for a while longer.
So I ate five cookies. That will show her!