This last week I have started going through old boxes of my
things that my parents have lovingly kept in their garage for years and years
and years. Amongst it all there were a few boxes of stuff from when I was in
school, mainly books and projects. As I went through it all I found memories
coming back to me that I didn’t even know I had. Nothing very solid, just
glimpses of the person I had been. To be honest I wasn’t the most street-wise
or socially aware of children, in fact in many ways I could be quite naïve and
ignorant. I remembered (not too clearly) some interactions with my friends
where looking back, I wished I had behaved differently. I can’t help thinking
that they must have been hurt by my actions even though I was totally unaware
of it. I really do wish that it had happened differently. And yet I remember no
fallout from those incidents, and looking back through the evidence in my boxes
it’s clear that we were not only friends afterwards, but that they cared an
awful lot about me too.
It makes me feel very grateful for those friends. It also
makes me realise how easy it is to regret mistakes we make in our relationships
with other people. I know that there have been many times that I’ve worried
that I should have done something differently or responded to something better.
But looking over these things, I can see that whilst it would have been better
if I’d had followed a different course, in the long run it really didn’t
matter, and worrying and wishing has never changed anything (although a good apology
can be worth more than gold). My friends have never loved me because I didn’t
make mistakes, but they’ve loved me despite them. I’ve always been blessed
enough to have friends who understand that my mistakes don’t define me but rather
what I define as mistakes determine who I am. Perhaps I need to start being a
little easier on myself when I mistakes and see it as an opportunity to make
them shape me into who I want to be.
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