Forgiveness is Hard

Do We Owe Forgiveness? Are We Owed Forgiveness? What If I Can't Forgive?

“You should forgive and forget.” Said so casually and confidently that if you struggle to do either, it’s almost like there’s something wrong with you. Like forgiveness is a switch we flip when we have time. Like forgetting is a conscious admin task where we drag painful memories to the bin and rid ourselves of them permanently.

And if we struggle to forgive and forget? Well, maybe we’re bitter. Resentful. Dramatic. Sinful even. Especially within personal development and religious circles, “just let it go” is presented as noble advice, said with an air of simplicity that can make you want to throw your phone across the room.

We don’t talk enough about the struggle between wanting to forgive someone and actually being able to. We look at unforgiveness almost entirely through the lens of intentionality, i. e.:

“If the wanted to, they would”

So if they haven’t forgiven, surely it’s because they’re choosing not to.

But what if it’s not so black and white? What if our spirit genuinely craves the peace that comes with letting things go but our mind is still coming to terms with the violation? It’s constantly sounds the alarm: “they’ve done it before, they can do it again”. And sometimes, they do in fact do it again.

Everyone else, including the perpetrator mind you, quietly thinks we should be “over it by now”, though they may not always have the audacity to say it out loud. Meanwhile, something deep within us is still trying to make sense of what happened in the first place.

I submit to you that the struggle to forgive isn’t always a choice, rooted in malice, stubbornness or spite, contrary to how it’s spoken about. Sometimes, it’s rooted in survival. In today’s newsletter, we will explore forgiveness and the struggle to actually forgive.

Forgiveness

I’m a firm believer in forgiveness. I’ve written before about why we should forgive and what happens when we don’t. True forgiveness is consciously releasing the weight that comes with feeling violated by someone else.

It is not necessarily reconciliation, nor is it excusing people’s behaviour. And it’s not accepting repeated disrespect and harm all in the name of being “Christ-like”. Forgetting however is an entirely different kettle of fish.

To forget is often viewed as acting as if the violation never took place. Personally, I see it as the memory no longer hijacks our emotions. Forgetting - to me - is when the impact of the memory has been neutralised, not the memory being completely discarded.

Contrary to popular belief, most of us do not literally forget. Our brains have noted the pain as it does when it believes our survival is at stake. It’s not even always conscious; sometimes the body remembers before the mind so does while we may “forgive” theoretically, we could still feel unsettled, guarded or anxious around them emotionally.

This I believe is where the disconnect comes from.

Scripture Says

Scripture is abundantly clear about forgiveness and it’s a recurring theme; we essentially need to forgive. It’s a non-negotiable in our faith journey, and the call to it is both comforting and if I’m being completely honest, challenging.

Forgiveness is fundamental to the health of all communities, institutions and society as a whole. “Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.” - Colossians 3:13 (NLT).

Forgive anyone. There’s also the attached reminder; “...the Lord forgave you”.

Just as we have been forgiven by God, we should forgive others. “‘If you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive others, your Father will not forgive your sins.’” - Matthew 6:14-15 (NLT).

The crown jewel though, and most challenging is when Peter asked Jesus how many times we should forgive. He even added a generous suggestion which I assume felt right, seven times. Seems reasonable. But nope.

“No, not seven times,” Jesus replies, “but seventy times seven!”

- Matthew 18:22 (NLT).

Fair enough.

This introduces an interesting conundrum: if I can’t or - more pertinently - feel like I can’t forgive someone, what does that say about me spiritually? So now I have to do it and if I struggle, I’ve failed. It almost feels less like an instruction, but more like an ultimatum.

Survival vs Moral Instruction

We cannot speak honestly about forgiveness without acknowledging the seemingly insurmountable difficulty that comes with it. For some, the struggle to forgive has nothing to do with willingness, but more about forgiveness from a place of profound emotional safety violation.

A thought hit me violently and took a while to shake:

Why do we assume people intentionally choose to not forgive?

For some, the inability to forgive is rooted in things actually beyond them. They can’t simply decide their way to forgiveness. The realities of what they’re navigating may feel bigger than conscious willpower.

There’s something deeply self-centred in the idea that we could offend someone and they should automatically forgive us because we apologised. Worse yet, when we believe they should have let it go by now - our preferred timeline. Deeply self-centered.

Who made us the arbiter of forgiveness? Of healing? Who gave us the authority to decide enough time has elapsed between offence, apology and forgiveness? For some reason, we project our perspective and view of the world onto other people and use that as the measuring stick.

“If I was in their shoes…” but you’re not though. But then again, scripture says we should forgive. It does but let me be explicitly clear when I say this, the existence of the command does not negate the difficulty and complexity of carrying it out.

Forgiveness may be spiritual but we’re still humans with real emotional and psychological needs that seem necessary for survival. God knows this and recognises our sinful nature and struggles with the flesh so makes accommodation for this by reminding us we can’t earn our salvation (Ephesians 2:9).

Some of us are trying to forgive while dealing with people who refuse to take accountability, with ongoing pain and let-downs, with PTSD or even a complete loss of identity that’s built around the pain and the story.

I don’t say this to make excuses; I still believe in forgiveness and forgiving quickly where possible. These are explanations of people’s realities and the difficulty experienced when trying to forgive. It isn’t necessarily a moral failing, unless we throw the towel in and actively stop trying to forgive.

Sometimes the difficulty could just simply be evidence of how deeply we were hurt. Mind you, there’s someone in the background saying “just move on”. Pain isn’t equal for everyone, and we need other people’s realities to exist without painting them with ours.

But When Is It Actually Enough?

The other side of the forgiveness coin that I personally don’t see or hear people talking about is the experience of the perpetrator actively trying to make amends while feeling like they’re permanently on trial. I imagine it must be exhausting and demoralising.

It’s tricky because there’s this underlying do the crime, do the time way we operate in. But the “time” is arbitrary and there comes a point where we start asking ourselves difficult questions: “How long will this go on for?”. “At what point does it end?”.

I’m not here to debate the merits of whether it’s right or wrong. One school of thought says the victim can take as long as they need. What that school of thought doesn’t consider is that wait can feel indefinite. So can we really expect someone/people to wait indefinitely?

Truthfully, forgiveness doesn’t operate on a universal timeline, primarily because healing is not linear and our experiences are unique to us. We can have a shared experience but the impact on us as individuals could be wildly different.

The person who was hurt gets to move at their own pace which isn’t ours to dictate. Just because we got over it overnight doesn’t mean they don’t get to take days, months, years to heal. Sometimes the wounds never fully close.

This is the reality we have to accept if we have caused genuine harm. Feeling entitled to forgiveness because we have moved on is the fastest way to slow it down. That being said - and it might be controversial - I reckon reasonable expectations can exist.

I believe it’s unfair to keep or expect people to wait indefinitely. How long should we reasonably wait when expecting forgiveness? The answer lives in the nuance of each individual situation. For starters, is forgiveness something to expect or hope for from others?

That aside, there’s a fundamental difference between someone who is genuinely still processing the pain and healing, and someone who is using unforgiveness as leverage - consciously or unconsciously. They can look identical and the only person who will know the real truth is the person with the pain.

Everything else is opinion and projection. That being said, they can still look identical. Pain or the struggle to come to terms with it, or not feeling like it’s been adequately addressed can cause an issue to keep being brought up over and over again.

Similarly, “weaponised” (I’ve started to really hate this word) unforgiveness could make the offence a mainstay, especially in conflict to shame, manipulate or establish moral superiority - not always consciously. Still though, it originated from a place of pain.

Compassion for the hurt caused is still appropriate, and as the perpetrator there may be moments of “grin and bear it”, but I don’t believe it’s something we’re obligated to participate in indefinitely. However long (or short) we choose to wait, is our choice to make.

Another line of thinking I’d encourage you to consider is whether we’re truly repentant and seeking forgiveness, or do we simply not want to deal with the consequences of our actions anymore? See, this is where scripture comes in clutch; true repentance comes with transformation, a changed heart and heart posture.

Bouncing Back

I’d like to propose the idea that we can’t earn forgiveness, despite how sweet and romantic it feels to say/hear it. We should actively change our ways and try to the best of our ability to facilitate forgiveness, sure, but it’s not a transaction. We can’t accumulate enough good behaviour to guarantee forgiveness and reconciliation.

Some people will forgive us. Some won’t. Some will forgive us with distance and time. Some will forgive us in close proximity, quickly. Some will forgive us in their hearts but never tell us. Similarly, some will say they forgave us and quietly punish us. None of that is within our control.

What is within our control is whether we become (transformation) people who deserve forgiveness. For their sake - to help facilitate the forgiveness process - but also for ours, for the sake of our integrity. At some point, we have to be able to genuinely say “I’m no longer that person”.

N.B.: I do think some people are too quick to claim they’ve done the work and are deserving of forgiveness. But that’s neither here nor there.

Forgiveness takes many forms. Some people see it as going back to the way things were. Some people see it as a new slate. Some people’s ability to forgive is connected to the introduced distance that may feel like unforgiveness to the person on the receiving end.

Ah yes, when it feels like unforgiveness. Another distinction worth making is that healing and forgiveness are not the same. What’s required for someone’s healing is not a direct representation of whether they’ve forgiven us.

This gets conflated often and this causes real issues. Damage even. The hurt person ends up feeling guilty for going through their healing process and protecting themselves. The person who caused the pain ends up feeling punished after seemingly resolving things.

Forgiveness and restoration don’t always work in tandem either. Sometimes distance is necessary for healing, which is necessary for forgiveness, which is necessary for restoration. Sometimes all three require safety first which requires time.

We unintentionally underestimate the impact we have on people and how it changes they experience us. We may apologise sincerely but we actually don’t know they associate us with in their internal worlds. It often feels personal but it doesn’t necessarily mean they hate us. Maybe they’re just trying to protect themselves from the threat.

Sometimes the introduced boundary and forgiveness are necessary, and with time things they “go back to how they were”. Or better yet, it’s a new beginning. The point is, their healing isn’t our punishment. It’s an act of self-preservation.

Concluding

Just because we struggle to forgive doesn’t give us leeway to not forgive. When we say with conviction “God won’t give us more than we can handle”, forgiveness sits inside that reality too. Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean we shouldn’t follow through.

Difficulty doesn’t eliminate responsibility.

Putting my logical hat on - and I encourage you to put yours on too - and putting ego to one side; why would anyone choose not to forgive? Yes people can be spiteful. Yes some people are downright wicked, but the struggle to forgive is rarely about us personally.

The struggle is more because of their lived experiences, their pain and their history, not because of you. As I said earlier, the idea that someone is intentionally struggling to forgive us is deeply self-centered and maybe we need more compassion towards the struggle itself. Maybe.

Maybe we don’t understand the scale of their pain. But in the spirit of fairness and balance, I think perpetrators should not be frozen in that version of themselves forever either. People are allowed to grow and do away with old ways. People can transform.

What that transformation work looks like, is unique to them but it doesn’t mean people on the receiving end have to forgive them. It’s easy to feel like something is being held over our heads but similarly we shouldn’t feel entitled to things going back to how they were.

Something worth considering is that the offence may have revealed a fundamental incompatibility of values and beliefs which changes the very dynamic of the relationship. Navigating that can feel like withholding forgiveness or unforgiveness because of what it looks like practically.

The relationship may essentially change shape after offence and survive in a new form. That is not an indictment of unforgiveness, it might just be the best form of resolution. Or best way to achieve internal peace. It may just feel like unforgiveness.

Maybe it isn’t unforgiveness at all. Maybe it’s two people trying to establish the best way to move forward after something has changed the fundamental nature of their relationship. Maybe. And maybe that too deserves grace.

As always, make a decision that future you will be grateful for.

Have a great weekend!

CT

Instagram: chris_topper

P.S.: I recently completed a life coaching certification. I cannot stand the name “life coach” but I’m still figuring it out. Celebrating the small win 🥳