The Apology

Therapy Session

“Forgiveness isn’t for them, PJ. It’s for you.”

My psychologist’s words hung in the air, settling into the quiet space between us. I sat on the edge of the worn couch, arms crossed, not quite ready to believe her.

“That’s easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You’re not the one still mad.”

She smiled knowingly. “Maybe not. But tell me this—how’s holding onto that anger working out for you?”

I didn’t have an answer. I had carried this grudge for years, gripping it like a shield against vulnerability. It was about a friend, Megan, who I hadn’t spoken to since our falling-out. The details were fuzzy, but the bitterness was sharp as ever.

“What’s one small step you could take?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

The question was simple enough, but my chest tightened at the thought. I hated feeling vulnerable. I hated not being in control. But something about the way she asked made me pause. Maybe I could start small—just one step.

The Challenge

That night, I opened my laptop and stared at a blank email for what felt like forever. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as old insecurities crept in. What if she ignores me? Or worse, what if she writes back and I regret reaching out?

I almost closed the screen, but then I remembered what my psychologist said. Forgiveness wasn’t for Megan—it was for me.

I typed:

Megan, I know it’s been years, and this might seem out of the blue, but I’ve been thinking a lot about our friendship. I realize I wasn’t always the best friend I could be, and I’m sorry for my part in what happened. I don’t know if you’d be open to reconnecting, but I wanted to say this either way.

I reread it a dozen times before hitting send. My heart raced as the email vanished into cyberspace. Part of me wanted to undo it, but another part—a quieter, steadier part—felt lighter.

Journal Reflection

That night, I wrote in my journal:

“I hate feeling vulnerable. But I keep thinking about what my psychologist said: forgiveness isn’t for the other person—it’s for me. For years, I’ve let this grudge take up space in my head, and for what? Megan might not even remember what happened. Today, I took a step. I don’t know if she’ll respond, but that’s okay. I did this for me.”

The Growth

Two days later, Megan responded. Her email was kind, apologetic, and filled with her own memories of regret.

“I’ve thought about reaching out so many times,” she wrote, “but I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me. Thank you for breaking the silence.”

We didn’t jump back into being best friends overnight, but we started talking again—tentatively at first, then with more ease. Slowly, we began rebuilding what we had lost.

That first step wasn’t easy, but it reminded me of something I had forgotten: forgiveness isn’t about erasing the past. It’s about freeing yourself to move forward.

Reflect and Grow

Have you ever carried the weight of anger or regret? What’s one small step you could take to lighten that burden?

Forgiveness isn’t for them—it’s for you. And when you take that first step, you might be surprised at how much lighter you feel.

Call to Action

PJ’s journey with The Plus One Theory is filled with challenges, lessons, and unexpected victories. Stay tuned for more stories from her journal, and get ready to explore the transformative power of small steps.

Want to share your own “plus one” story? Reply to this email—I’d love to hear from you and possibly feature your story in our podcast!