There are secrets that no matter how hard you try to hide, they keep coming back. Not because you want to be remembered, but because there's still a part of you that's not whole. That's how I feel—I was only twenty years old when something happened that still haunts my conscience.
I was young, emotional, and heartbroken because of my boyfriend who I didn't understand. My mind was in turmoil at the time. So I approached the person I thought could help—the priest in our parish. He was kind, smart, and seemed to be able to cheer up anyone who was sad. I started opening up to him about my problems in life, in family, in love.
I didn't even realize it, I was slowly opening my heart. With every conversation we had, with every piece of advice he gave, a feeling began to form that shouldn't have been there. I fell. And it's even more painful to admit—he fell too.
It was just one night that something that shouldn't have happened. And after that, we immediately thought: Wrong. We both realized that it wasn't right—not just in the eyes of God, but also in the eyes of society. We didn't do it again. We never saw each other again. He was the one who told us not to see each other again, to end it all.
Many years passed. I found new love and got married. I didn't hide what happened—I admitted to my mistake. I told my husband the truth. And fortunately, he accepted me wholeheartedly. He still loves me despite my painful past.
But why is it that up until now, there is still pain? Why is there still a reproach in my heart even though I have repented for a long time? Every day, even though my family is happy, there are still nights when I feel restless. Sometimes, I wonder: Has God forgiven me?
I wrote to Dr. Love, and this is his response:
“Everyone makes mistakes—even priests. What matters is that you both repented. And if you sincerely asked forgiveness from God, He has already forgiven you. Don't carry around a sin you don't need to carry. Move on.”
It made me think. It's true. I'm not Maria Clara. I'm just a human being, I fell in love, I made mistakes, but repented and changed. I didn't intentionally love the wrong person, but I learned how to correct myself. If God is forgiving, who am I to not forgive myself?
Friend, maybe you have a similar story. Maybe you have been carrying a secret for years. If so, I hope you can learn from my story. You don't have to confine yourself to just one mistake. You don't have to hurt yourself over and over again because of the past.
The important thing is, you have changed. You have apologized. You have accepted your shortcomings. Now, you have a new life, a new hope, and a new beginning. If you can forgive others, you should also be able to forgive yourself.
The past is just part of your story—it's not the whole of you. You can't erase it, but you can change its meaning. Instead of carrying it as shame, carry it as a lesson. A reminder that sometimes, even if we fall, we can still get up and move on.
Now, I'm happy. Life isn't perfect, but I've learned to embrace my own story. While there are parts of it that hurt, it's still a part of who I am now—stronger, wiser, and more forgiving.
And if you have a sin you want to forget—start by forgiving yourself. That's where true freedom begins.
