My Forgiveness Story He was my high school bully, he was one of many. He stood out because he could reach the most vulnerable parts of me, the places where I still expressed hope and confidence, and make them seem ugly. I transferred schools because of him, and the next year he was there, the
“You are not a mess
You are brave for trying”
Vulnerability is noble, but it’s not easy. The war-torn path behind me indicates I have made many messes and many mistakes, but is that such a bad thing? Or do the courageous and brave get confused with the meek?