I don't believe in cutting out people from the past. It doesn't

Carla Bruni once reflected with tenderness: “I don’t believe in cutting out people from the past. It doesn’t give strength; it just gives loneliness.” In these words we hear the echo of a soul who has lived, loved, and learned that the bonds of memory cannot be severed without cost. She reminds us that to deny our past relationships, even those filled with pain, is not to make ourselves stronger but to exile ourselves into isolation. The past is not an enemy to be destroyed, but a foundation upon which our present rests.

The origin of this thought is born in the nature of human relationships. All who live long enough will encounter betrayal, heartbreak, or disappointment. Many in such times seek to erase the names and faces of those who once walked with them. They believe that forgetting will bring freedom, that erasure will grant strength. But Bruni warns us that this path does not lead to renewal—it leads only to emptiness. For in cutting away those who shaped us, we also cut away pieces of ourselves.

The ancients knew this truth as well. In Homer’s Odyssey, Odysseus is shaped not only by victories but by losses: the comrades drowned at sea, the temptations resisted, the mistakes endured. He did not erase them from his memory; he carried them, and in carrying them, he became wise. Similarly, Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor, spoke often in his Meditations of those who wronged him. He did not cut them from his thoughts but reflected on them, using even bitterness to sharpen his character. Strength comes not from forgetting, but from integrating every shard of the past into the mosaic of the soul.

History itself shows us the danger of erasure. After civil wars, nations that attempt to wipe clean the memory of their enemies often fall again into division. But those that choose remembrance—truth commissions, reconciliations, forgiveness—find healing. Think of Nelson Mandela and South Africa: he did not seek to erase his jailers from history, but to integrate their wrongs into a path of reconciliation. Had he chosen forgetting, the nation might have drowned in revenge and loneliness. By embracing the past, even its cruelty, he forged a greater strength.

Bruni’s words also speak to the intimate world of personal love. The heart that has known affection cannot erase it without scarring itself. Even if a relationship ends, its memory remains part of one’s becoming. To erase it is to deny the truth of who we were in that moment. Better to carry it gently, to honor its place, and to let it become part of our wisdom. Thus, we are not made lonely by exile from ourselves, but enriched by the complexity of our journey.

The lesson for us is this: do not fear the shadows of your past, and do not seek to cut away those who once walked with you. Instead, accept them as part of your story. Learn from them, cherish what was good, forgive what was harmful, and allow them to rest in memory without bitterness. For strength does not come from erasure, but from wholeness; not from loneliness, but from reconciliation with time.

So let Carla Bruni’s words be remembered as teaching: to cut away the past is to weaken oneself, but to embrace it is to stand whole and unbroken. Walk forward with every memory at your side, for even those who hurt you gave shape to your strength. And in honoring the full tapestry of your life—its joys and its wounds—you will find not loneliness, but peace, and not fragility, but enduring strength.