One day, she thought, I will get tired of being angry, too tired to keep holding on to the need to be right, and I will let go. I will recognise that all forgiveness is self-forgiveness, and if I’m holding out on them, I’m holding out on myself. I’m tired of holding out on myself. I love myself more than this, don’t I?

And perhaps then, and only then, she will let herself love so fully, so completely that it doesn’t matter what anyone says, or does, they will always have a home in her, for she is forever theirs, and they hers. Maybe not in this lifetime, maybe not in the world of fearful behaviour, but she will hold them, and love their soul in a way they, and her, never even thought possible.

This, she realised, was the only true way to be free, the only true way to love herself, and recognise she was already everything she could possibly desire to be

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