Why Forgiveness is the Ultimate Rebellion
When I was nine years old, I was told a story that changed the way I saw the world.
It wasn’t a fairy tale. It was a warning.
A well-to-do Native woman in Fairbanks had been at a party on the outskirts of town—the kind of gathering where the “movers and shakers” meet. Local professionals, people with power and pedigrees, were gathered in a room filled with laughter and expensive drinks. But as the night went on, the masks slipped.
She heard them talking openly about a strategy to stay on top. They weren’t discussing policy or business; they were discussing people. They spoke about keeping people addicted—to alcohol, to drugs, to the chaos. Because, as they laughed among themselves, “An addicted person can’t fight for their land or their rights when the time comes.”
That story was a seed planted in my young mind. It taught me early on that there are people who profit from our pain, and that trauma isn’t just a personal struggle—it’s a weapon used against us.
The Cost of the “Old Way”
For a long time, I thought the only way to fight a rigged system was with the “expeditious retaliation” I saw in the streets. If you crossed us, it was settled. Fast. We thought that was strength.
But look at the math. I’ve lost brothers, cousins, and friends to that mindset. They couldn’t get past the trauma. They couldn’t outrun the mistakes of their past. They died “protecting” a reputation while the people from that party stayed wealthy, watching us destroy ourselves from the comfort of their living rooms.
I almost became a statistic myself. But I had a guardian angel, and I realized that by staying angry and vengeful, I was playing right into their hands.
The Turquoise Ink
If you look at my left wrist, you’ll see the word “Forgive.” Directly beneath it, in that same vibrant turquoise, is John 15:13: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
I didn’t get that tattoo to be “holy.” I got it because I was tired of being a pawn. I had to forgive the man who murdered my Godbrother, Lee. Not because what he did was okay—it wasn’t—but because I refused to let his actions dictate the rest of my life.
Unforgiveness is a prison cell where you are both the inmate and the guard. By holding onto that debt, I was staying exactly where those people at the party wanted me: distracted, broken, and stagnant.
The Posh Outlaw Manifesto
Being an “Outlaw” isn’t about breaking the law; it’s about breaking the cycle. It’s about refusing to follow the script written for you by people who don’t want to see you win.
True “Poshness” isn’t just about the lifestyle or the labels. It is the luxury of a quiet mind. It is the elegance of a heart that refuses to be hardened.
You can change your mind any day. You can wake up tomorrow and decide that the version of you that was hurt, vengeful, or lost is no longer the one in charge.
The “Check-In”: Is it time to heal?
If you are carrying a weight that isn’t yours, ask yourself:
- Who is living in your head rent-free? If you are still fighting someone who isn’t there, they are still winning.
- Are you numbing the noise? If you need a substance to quiet your past, you aren’t free; you’re just hiding.
- Are you tired of being a statistic? Healing is the most “outlaw” thing you can do because it’s the one thing they don’t expect you to do.
How to Start the Rebellion:
- Cancel the Debt: Realize that the person who hurt you can never pay you back. Stop waiting for an apology that isn’t coming. Cancel the debt so you can walk away.
- Find Your “Guardian Angel”: Seek out an elder, a counselor, or a brother who has found peace. You don’t have to walk the trail alone.
- Live the New Life: The best way to honor the brothers we’ve lost is to live the life they didn’t get to have.
Living well isn’t just the best revenge—it’s the ultimate victory.
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