Hi, this is Monique Rhodes. Welcome to the In Your Right Mind Podcast, where we're learning how to be happier by working with our minds.
If you’d like to know more about what I teach, come to Moniquerhodes.com Let’s get you happier—because that’s what you deserve.
An Unexpected Message
This morning, I received a message from someone I hadn’t seen since childhood—someone I never expected to hear from again. As a kid, this person hurt me deeply, in a way that left a lasting mark.
In their message, they said they were sorry. I wasn’t waiting for it, and I wasn’t asking for it. Strangely, just a few days ago, I had brought them up as an example in conversation—proof that, after all these years, something in me was still holding on.
When that message arrived, I didn’t just feel it in my mind—I felt it somewhere deeper. In a place that had gone a little numb.
And I realized: I had still been carrying this.
The Armor We Carry
We all carry things we don’t realize we’re still holding—old wounds, old stories about our worth, the tension in our shoulders that began when we were twelve and never left.
So many of us move through life wearing protective shells. Once, they kept us safe. But now, they often keep us stuck.
When someone reaches out and says, “I’m sorry for the hurt I caused,” something softens—not because the words erase the past, but because they open a new moment. A moment where something different can happen.
A moment where the armor can loosen.
Softening Instead of Striving
The most meaningful healing doesn’t start with effort—it starts with softening.
When we soften toward the pain we’ve tucked away…
When we soften toward the younger version of ourselves who didn’t yet have the tools…
When we soften even toward the people who hurt us—not excusing them, but acknowledging they were broken too—
That’s when the shell begins to melt.
We try to outthink or outperform our pain—burying it under achievements or polished lives.
But what changes us isn’t perfection. It’s presence.
It’s the willingness to sit with the mess, not to judge it, but to hold it gently and whisper:
“You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”
Letting Kindness In
You don’t have to rush to forgive. You don’t have to force closure.
But if someone offers you a moment of unexpected kindness—an apology, a truth, a glimpse of their humanity—you’re allowed to let it in.
Even if it stings at first.
Even if it surprises you how much it still matters.
That message might bring back memories you haven’t visited in years.
You might feel sadness, relief, confusion—or not know what to feel at all.
That’s okay. Letting go isn’t linear. It’s not tidy.
But you can meet what arises—the tightness, the ache, the small voice that says “I didn’t deserve that”—with kindness.
Not because the past didn’t matter,
but because your freedom matters more.
Turning Walls into Doors
Here’s what I’ve learned again and again:
When we treat even the hardest parts of ourselves with compassion, more of life becomes workable.
More space opens up.
More connection becomes possible.
The walls we built to protect ourselves can become doors.
That’s what happens when we soften.
Not collapse. Not resign.
But simply relax our grip.
We stop fighting the past and start meeting ourselves where we are.
We make room for healing to take root in the very places we once felt broken.
The Grace of Kindness
Sometimes, that healing begins with the unexpected grace of someone saying, “I’m sorry.”
Even if you never reply.
Even if it came decades too late.
Even if you’re still figuring out how to feel about it.
You get to decide what to do with the pain you’ve carried.
But you also get to decide what kind of tenderness you’ll allow in.
Because maybe it’s true that time doesn’t heal all wounds—
but kindness just might.
I hope this has been helpful.
Don’t forget, the Happiness Club is where it’s happening.
As always, be kind, take care, and go gently in the world.
