Jan­ice Lear­mond-Criqui

We all car­ry in­vis­i­ble shad­ows—those silent re­minders of past mis­takes, missed op­por­tu­ni­ties, bro­ken promis­es, or words we wish we could take back. They linger in our minds, of­ten mas­querad­ing as guilt, shame, re­gret, or self-doubt. They whis­per lies that we’re not wor­thy, not lov­able, or not enough. But here’s the truth: you are not your mis­takes. You are not the worst thing you’ve ever done. And the key to step­ping in­to your bright­est, most em­pow­ered self lies in one sa­cred act-for­giv­ing your­self.

The Bur­den We Car­ry

We of­ten ex­tend grace to oth­ers far more eas­i­ly than we do to our­selves. We tell friends, “Don’t be so hard on your­self,” yet when we look in the mir­ror, we’re re­lent­less crit­ics. We re­play our mis­steps like a looped sound­track, sub­con­scious­ly pun­ish­ing our­selves with thoughts like, “How could I have been so blind?” or “If on­ly I had done things dif­fer­ent­ly.”

But hold­ing on to guilt doesn’t make you more re­spon­si­ble. It keeps you stuck. It an­chors you to a mo­ment that can­not be changed and steals the joy from the mo­ments ahead. It clouds your vi­sion, weighs down your spir­it, and blocks the path to the clar­i­ty and con­fi­dence you de­serve.

What For­give­ness

Re­al­ly Means

For­giv­ing your­self doesn’t mean ex­cus­ing bad be­hav­iour or pre­tend­ing some­thing didn’t hurt. It means ac­knowl­edg­ing your hu­man­i­ty. It means say­ing, “Yes, I made a mis­take. But I am learn­ing. I am grow­ing. And I de­serve to move for­ward.”

Self-for­give­ness is not weak­ness—it’s a de­c­la­ra­tion of strength. It says, ‘I refuse to live in the prison of my past. I choose to be­come the ar­chi­tect of my fu­ture.’

The Jour­ney to Clar­i­ty

When you for­give your­self, some­thing re­mark­able hap­pens: the fog be­gins to lift. Clar­i­ty comes in like sun­rise af­ter a long night. You be­gin to see the les­son, not just the loss. You hear the wis­dom be­neath the pain. You recog­nise that your mis­take wasn’t the end of your sto­ry—it was the be­gin­ning of your be­com­ing.

Clar­i­ty doesn’t al­ways mean cer­tain­ty, but it brings peace. It al­lows you to sep­a­rate who you are from what you did. It em­pow­ers you to make bet­ter choic­es, not be­cause you’re try­ing to atone, but be­cause you fi­nal­ly be­lieve you’re wor­thy of good things again.

How to Start

For­giv­ing Your­self

If you’re won­der­ing how to be­gin, here are a few pow­er­ful steps:

1. Speak the truth to your­self.

Ad­mit what hap­pened. Name the re­gret with­out sug­ar-coat­ing it. Truth is the foun­da­tion of heal­ing.

2. Of­fer com­pas­sion in­stead of con­dem­na­tion.

Would you speak to a child the way you speak to your­self? If not, change the tone. Be kind. You’re still learn­ing.

3. Find the les­son in the loss.

Every mis­take car­ries wis­dom. What did this ex­pe­ri­ence teach you about bound­aries, self-worth, or courage?

4. Re­lease the need to “pay” for it.

Pun­ish­ing your­self won’t un­do the past. But it will rob you of your present. Let the les­son be the price and move on.

5. Af­firm your whole­ness dai­ly.

Use af­fir­ma­tions like, “I am wor­thy of love, even with my im­per­fec­tions,” or “I choose to grow from this, not shrink be­cause of it.”

The Free­dom on

the Oth­er Side

When you for­give your­self, you cre­ate space for joy, for love, for pur­pose. You stop hid­ing be­hind shame and start show­ing up with in­ten­tion. You at­tract health­i­er re­la­tion­ships be­cause you’re no longer car­ry­ing the weight of un­wor­thi­ness. You be­come mag­net­ic. Not be­cause you’re per­fect, but be­cause you are au­then­ti­cal­ly free.

We all fall. We all fal­ter. But what de­fines you is not the fall. It’s what you choose to do next. For­giv­ing your­self is a rad­i­cal act of self-love. It is the bridge from dark­ness to light, from con­fu­sion to clar­i­ty, from sur­vival to sig­nif­i­cance.

So to­day, let the past be a chap­ter, not a chain. Step out of the shad­ows. Look your­self in the eye and say: “I for­give you. I love you. Let’s be­gin again.”

Jan­ice Lear­mond-Criqui, CPC, CaribDE24

jan­icel­criqui@gmail.com