Inching Towards Forgiveness

An examination of my journals over the last decade (something I’m not brave, or masochistic, enough to do) would reveal that easily one third of the content comprised my musings on forgiveness. Why it’s important, what it consists of, when I might truly feel it, and, most often, how the hell do I get there? Once I progressed beyond my immature revenge fantasies and schadenfreude when thinking of those who had hurt me, I eagerly read countless offerings on the subject, longing for the peace and closure that I imagined must accompany forgiveness. In retrospect I realize that I imagined forgiveness was a feeling that was going to one day descend on me in a magical, time-heals-all-wounds sort of way rather than an active practice requiring effort.

I cringe to remember my infantile perception of the subject, but I’m happy to report that over time I’ve progressed to a completely different and more nuanced understanding of various aspects of forgiveness. As I’ve stated about other epiphanies I’ve shared, the things I’ve learned may come as no surprise to the more well-adjusted among us, but for me, taken together over time, they’ve been revolutionary.

Here are the highlights:

Self-forgiveness really does come first. Of course, this required taking a good look at myself and my shortcomings and eventually getting over my bullshit. And there was so much to forgive myself for. As I gained self-awareness the issues would shift, and for a while it was like playing Whack-a-Mole. I’d forgive myself for “giving up” on my marriage, then realize I had to forgive myself for accepting so little for so long. I’d forgive myself for allowing my children to see me accepting mistreatment, then realize I also had to forgive myself for becoming self-absorbed, to their detriment, by the chaos in my brain. And guess what? Like any emotional process, self-forgiveness is not a one and done thing. Which is why in a future post I’ll explore the idea (posited by Heather Havrilesky in Ask Polly—if you don’t subscribe you might want to) that daily self-forgiveness is an antidote to shame and an important ingredient of a peaceful existence.

Self-compassion is transferable. Forgiveness and compassion for myself unlocked a boatload of the same for others. I can now see why someone might withhold the truth out of fear, because I did it. I can imagine how someone’s emotional immaturity might cause them to treat me in a way I perceived as unkind, because I did it. I can understand, finally, that everyone is fighting their own battle and very little is truly personal.

Forgiving others is a gift to yourself. We’ve all read the maxim about failure to forgive being like drinking poison in hopes someone else will die. I learned that forgiveness is often a gift for which the other person has no need. That others’ behavior has little or nothing to do with me, and that my letting go of the anger (which is covering up the hurt) frees up all sorts of energy to live my best life.

Forgiveness does not necessarily mean reconciliation. This was my biggest misconception. I assumed that forgiveness was granted and then a relationship would seamlessly resume in its previous form. It took ages for me to learn that I could let something go completely, and even wish the other person well, but choose not to pursue further interaction with them. Or choose to set boundaries, which I previously imagined were unforgiving, to protect my peace.

Not everyone or everything is forgivable. Despite substantial progress in finding forgiveness, there’s one area where my resistance feels insurmountable: I can’t imagine how to forgive the people who broke my child’s heart by abandoning her. Her father, knowing it was the only way left to hurt me, totally estranged himself from her when she was fourteen and seriously ill. Over the next few years, two of my friends, who my daughter loved so fiercely she considered them second moms, disappeared from her life rather than discuss issues that they had with me. I have long ago accepted and forgiven the hurt I experienced from these relationship failures, but it remains unfathomable to me how someone could entertain the notion that wounding a vulnerable bystander is acceptable collateral damage.

I recently confessed this inability to move on to one of my wisest, most imperturbable friends. Was this another thing I had to forgive myself for? She didn’t hesitate. She said something I’d never considered (I’ve historically been a big fan of black-or-white thinking, after all) and which I’ve taken under advisement:

“Who says that everything or everyone has to be forgiven?”

And now? I’ve accepted that I’m still learning; that while I’ve leveled up in some areas, I still don’t know how to change the way I feel about others. That trying to force forgiveness in some situations is akin to invalidating my feelings and abandoning myself, something I’ve taken great pains to learn how to stop doing. My plan is to try to forgive myself every day, to extend that self-compassion to others, and to stay open to change.

***

Thanks for reading. Please share your thoughts on forgiveness.