A few weeks later, during one of my workshops, Lisa quietly walked in. She didn’t ask for forgiveness. She asked to help. To learn. To rebuild the parts of herself Rick had broken.
I let her.
Months later, she approached me with an idea — a program for women trying to rebuild after breakups, financial disasters, toxic marriages. Practical tools, honest discussions, real accountability.
It was a good idea — important, even. So we created it together.
Not as the sisters we used to be. Those versions of us were long gone. But as two women who had been broken and pieced themselves back together, who learned that healing doesn’t erase pain — it reshapes it.
Forgiveness didn’t happen in a single moment. There was no dramatic reconciliation. It came slowly, through actions repeated over time. Not forgetting. Not pretending. Just planting something new where something old had been burned down.
What grew between us wasn’t the relationship we once had.
It was something stronger — honest, resilient, earned.
She changed. I changed. And somehow, that was enough.
