Dear Amy: This year several people from my past have contacted me to ask for forgiveness.
The first letter was from two dormmates writing jointly to apologize for their hurtful behavior. I went to these two women for emotional support, believing them to be friends, only to be bluntly told that neither of them liked me and that they associated with me only because they assumed I would help them with their papers or research projects.
I changed dorms at the end of the academic year and never spoke to either of them again. It has been almost 40 years.
The second letter was another college friend who contacted me in 2008, and we started phoning and e-mailing. "Call me anytime to talk," she said. One night I did, and she exploded, screaming that I had interrupted her nightly wine and crafting time and yelling that we had nothing in common because I am not married, a homeowner or a crafter and telling me to leave her alone forever. I complied.
I read both of these letters carefully and decided my response would be to shred them. These three women are bad memories, and why they sought, need or want my forgiveness after so many years is a mystery to me.
I do not want any further contact with them. To err is indeed human, to forgive might be divine, but forgiveness is also optional.
Amy says: I believe that the experience and isolation of the pandemic — as well as the simple march of time — has caused a lot of people to reflect on their choices.
You don't say how these women expressed themselves, but these entreaties seem like demands. In my experience, the fullest form of forgiveness is not arrived at as the response to a demand. (I also think it's possible that Ms. Wine and Crafting is working one of the 12-steps.)