Learning To Let Go

Abby Grenier

Learning To Let Go

When I was younger, I often got in trouble for little things, like taunting my brother or talking back to my mother. I wasn’t truly sorry for what I did because at seven, eight, or nine years old, I believed that my actions were justified. However, being the oldest and having a lot expected of me day in and day out from such a young age was challenging. I was always expected to “know what I’m doing” or that I should “know better” just because I was born first. Therefore, as a child I was falsely apologizing and not meaning or learning what true forgiveness was. Growing up, I believe I had many friends. As funny as this may sound, inviting people to my birthday parties was one of the most stressful things I ever had to do. I never knew where the cut-off was and always wanted to invite everyone. However, I never felt like I had a best friend or a close connection with anyone. At the time there was never someone in my life that I completely trusted, including my own family. The closest thing I had to someone I fully trusted was a girl named Lacey. Lacey and I met in first grade, and we became fast friends. We were close friends from first grade to sixth. We had disagreements here and there, but it was always something we could talk about, work through, and overcome. Yet, I never fully trusted Lacey. Granted, yes, this ebbed and flowed throughout our friendship but something was never quite right. From the very first time we ever hung out, she said something along the lines of “I thought you were so annoying before my mom made me hang out with you.” This line–“I used to think you were so annoying before I knew you”–has become a constant thing people have said to me throughout my life. This has led me to constantly think I am the problem when things go wrong. Lacey would often tell our other friends what I said or how I felt. One of the prime examples I have of this was when we were in third grade and I told Lacey I was upset with our new friend Summer. Summer had been leaving me out at recess, and I wished she never moved to Newtown. I hurt Summer’s feelings, and I could not take back what I said. I didn’t realize it at the time, because I was eight, that I was just jealous that I wasn’t getting all of Lacey’s attention. I ended up hurting not only Summer’s feelings but my own feelings were hurt from the person I thought I could sort of trust: Lacey. After Lacey told Summer this, I remember confronting Lacey at our next playdate. I asked her why she told Summer what I had said. Lacey told me she was sorry and that

she was trying to include me more by telling Summer how I felt. I told her I forgave her, and I honestly did, but I still held onto the feeling of betrayal. This was my first time experiencing forgiveness in this way. Fast forward to middle school and I walked into Miss Nucifora’s classroom for the first time. In homeroom, I was placed at a table in the front of the room. Almost immediately after I took a seat, someone walked into the room in a gray and blue West Virginia sweatshirt and sat down right next to me. I quickly learned her name was Samantha and her oldest brother went to the University of West Virginia. Samantha became one of my closest friends from seventh grade until my sophomore year of high school. Samantha and I were inseparable. She became the first ever person I felt to be my best friend. Samantha was loyal, funny, kind, and always knew how to keep me in check. When our sophomore year of high school rolled around, we were so excited, no longer the freshman, the “newbies” of the school. We knew our stuff, and nothing could bring us down–or so I thought. I began to develop feelings for a boy I had met through our younger brother’s sports team. This boy and I started talking every day and hanging out every weekend. But what I didn’t realize was that I was slowly cutting Samantha out of my life. One December day, Samantha texted me saying, “I can’t be friends with you anymore. I need my space.” Receiving this message broke my heart into a million pieces. I had no idea where it came from, and I didn’t know what I did to deserve it. I remember sitting on my bedroom floor and repeatedly calling and texting her asking her to talk, but she never responded, and I never heard back. Because I was never able to get full closure, or even an explanation as to what went wrong, I had a tough time moving on from this and forgiving her for leaving my life. She was my best friend. She ended our friendship with two sentences and was never to be heard from again. It all seemed very unfair to me. I could not forgive Samantha, and I could not forgive myself. It was my fault, I should’ve been a better friend, and I should’ve known better. Fast forward again to my first year at Fairfield University. Coming into school, I was already super nervous, this was my first time away from home for an extended period of time; I needed to make all new friends, and I honestly didn’t know if I even wanted to go to college at the time. Let me tell you, starting college during a global pandemic was not ideal. However, I quickly made friends and immediately thought I had found my group of people. Now, if becoming a New Student Leader (a mentor for freshmen students) has taught me anything, it is that first-years have a warped sense of friendship coming into college. Now

don’t get me wrong, I also partook in this mentality. Whether it was that my roommate was going to be my best friend, my forever friends were the people I met the first day, or the people I hung out with for the first month of school were going to be my bridesmaids. While that may be true for some, it isn’t for all, and it certainly was not for me. Upon starting my first year here at Fairfield University, I quickly found myself in a group of friends, and I was very happy. Things were falling into place. I was making connections with people around me relatively easy, and I had high hopes for the years to come. All was well during my first month of college until the inevitable happened. That October, a few of my friends and I got into an argument. Names were called, things were said, feelings were hurt on both ends of the spectrum. I ended up going home for a week to take time and think, but also to give my friends some space. I came back from my week-long sabbatical and had a conversation with my friends. We recognized that some things got lost in translation and nobody wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings. We decided to move on. However, two weeks later, a similar situation occurred, and one of my friends, who I considered myself to be the closest with, at the time said to me: “we do not want to be your friend.” Although I knew they were doing what was best for them, this was a hard situation to face. I felt as if I had no one, in this new place with no familiar faces, and fell into a very deep downward spiral, with no understanding of how to break out or how to break free. After the fallout, I struggled with how other people would perceive me. I ended up moving home and commuting to campus for the second semester of my first year and heavily considered transferring. I would drive to campus worried about what people thought or said about me because I knew at a small school, word could travel fast. A lot of the same feelings came back from what happened with Samantha. I felt betrayed, alone, and like I was the entirety of the problem, again. For a long time, I felt like I was in no place to forgive my friends. My reputation is something I thought a lot about every day. Although I thought about my reputation in elementary, middle, and high school, this time, it seemed much larger because, as I said above, I was in a new place, and quite frankly, I knew no one. Going from high school, where I had always felt like my connections weren’t meaningful, and not having many real “friends,” I was excited to go someplace new and establish bonds with fresh faces. But the same situation played out yet again, and it was exhausting. I remember repeating to myself, “am I ever going to get this right?” or “am I ever going to be able to keep friends?” I couldn’t forgive them, and I couldn’t forgive myself. I just didn’t know how.

It wasn’t until last semester that I started to learn about letting go. Experiencing true friendship for the first time last semester was life-changing. I became close with a few people during the second semester of my sophomore year. One of the people had been in my life since the beginning of my career at Fairfield and our friendship only grew after this. My whole life, I had felt like I came second to others. Or, that I was too annoying, or that I was just a problem, and nobody wanted to be my friend because of that reason. But upon spending time and building a relationship with them, I felt peace in friendship for the first time. I had three friends who loved me unconditionally and supported me. I never felt like I had to give more than I was getting. I found a community with walls of trust and never questioned if I was being judged. Even though all four of us had gone through different things and experienced various events, knowing that I could mess up and make mistakes, but still have people in my corner has changed my perspective on what I have come to determine as self-forgiveness. If they loved me no matter what, I can love myself no matter what. The strong and comforting connections that I made have also helped me on my journey to forgiving others. I finally stopped thinking about what went wrong or what could have been. Why would I dwell on that past when I could enjoy what I have now? My friends helped me figure out that life isn’t perfect and people come into my life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. The person I have hurt may not forgive me, but forgiving myself for hurting others or for others hurting me is the first step in the right direction toward self-forgiveness and self-love. As I have developed wonderful relationships with loyal, caring, and loving people, I feel less apologetic for being myself and find myself more willing to forgive others who I feel have wronged me in the past. I no longer feel alone. So if I could say anything to the nine-year-old girl who would constantly apologize and who didn’t understand what forgiveness was, it would be to choose redemption. I don’t need to live for the past and hate myself for it. I can choose to start again. Forgiveness is a weird process that ebbs and flows, and it’s okay to still be figuring out what it is. My journey to forgiveness is all my own. My happy ending is up to me.

Abby is currently studying Accounting and Data Analytics with minors in Spanish, Communication, and Accounting Info Systems at Fairfield University. She is a New Student Leader through Fairfield’s Office of Student Engagement. In doing this, Abby co-facilitates a seminar for first-year students to help them transition to campus life while incorporating communication skills to present to 30 students in a classroom setting. Abby also hosts a weekly radio show where she discusses current events and plays popular music. Alongside this, she helped build and develop a company website using Shopventory to increase brand awareness and visibility for a local shop in downtown Fairfield, CT.

Abby aspires to pursue a career in Data Analytics/Accounting while incorporating her passions of learning new languages, reading books, traveling, and learning about new cultures globally.