I never thought I would write these words.
For years, I carried things inside of me that I didn’t know how to explain. Hurt has a way of growing when it is buried. It can turn into anger, resentment, and eventually words that come out much harsher than we ever intended.
This is not a story about pretending the past didn’t happen.
It is not a story about saying that everything was okay.
It is a story about realizing that healing sometimes requires us to look at our own actions too.
Recently, I spoke to my dad out of years of pain. I told him exactly how I felt. There were things from my childhood that had stayed with me for a very long time, and when I finally let those feelings out, they came out with anger.
At the time, part of me felt justified.
After all, I was the one who had been hurt.
But later, during pastoral counseling, I began looking at the situation differently. My pastor helped me understand something that was difficult for me to accept: I could acknowledge what happened to me without allowing my pain to determine the kind of person I would become.
As a Christian, I kept thinking about the commandment:
“Honour thy father and thy mother.”
Those words became uncomfortable for me.
How do you honor someone who hurt you?
Does honoring your father mean pretending nothing happened?
Does it mean forgetting?
Does it mean allowing someone to continue hurting you?
I came to understand that, for me, the answer was no.
I can tell the truth about my childhood and still choose not to speak from hatred. I can have boundaries and still refuse to become disrespectful. I can forgive without pretending that trust has automatically been restored.
And most importantly, I can apologize for how I responded without apologizing for having feelings about what happened to me.
That distinction changed everything.
So, Dad, this is my apology.
I am sorry for the disrespectful way I spoke to you. I am sorry for the words I used when my anger took over. Regardless of the pain I carried, I know that I am responsible before God for my own words and actions.
My apology does not erase my story.
It does not mean that the things that hurt me suddenly stopped hurting.
It does not mean that every disagreement between us has been resolved.
It simply means that I do not want bitterness to have authority over my life anymore.
For many years, I thought healing meant receiving an apology from the person who hurt me. Maybe part of me believed I could not completely move forward until someone finally admitted what happened, understood my pain, or said the words I had waited so long to hear.
But I am beginning to understand that I cannot base my healing on another person’s response.
I have to answer for my heart.
I have to answer for my words.
And I have to answer for the woman I choose to become.
I cannot change my childhood, but I can decide what I carry into my future.
I choose peace over anger.
I choose forgiveness over bitterness.
I choose boundaries where boundaries are necessary.
And I choose to honor God even when doing so requires me to humble myself and admit when I have handled something the wrong way.
Dad, I cannot rewrite our past.
Neither one of us can.
But I can take responsibility for my part today.
So I am sorry.
Not because my pain wasn’t real.
Not because my feelings didn’t matter.
Not because the past should be ignored.
I am apologizing because I want my actions today to reflect the person God is teaching me to become.
Maybe healing does not always end with everything being perfectly repaired.
Sometimes healing begins when you finally realize that the past may explain your anger, but it does not have to control your future.
And this apology is part of mine.
Bio:
My name is Lilyan Ruiz. I am a mother of two grown daughters, a Criminal Justice student, and a woman whose Christian faith plays an important role in my life and in my writing. I write from personal experience, often exploring themes of family, forgiveness, healing, faith, accountability, and overcoming difficult circumstances.
Through my stories, I hope to encourage others to confront their past honestly without allowing it to control their future. I believe that forgiveness does not mean forgetting what happened, and that healing can include truth, healthy boundaries, personal responsibility, and faith in God.
“An Apology to My Dad” is part of my journey of putting my experiences into words, choosing peace over bitterness, and remaining honest about my story.