“What can be given to me is of no interest. I’m only interested in what no one can give me or take away from me. Everything else is imagination.” -Eric Baret
The word “forgiveness” is often associated with generosity of heart—a willingness to rise above feelings of hurt and anger, to take the first step, be the bigger person, and move on without being consumed by hatred or resentment. It suggests burying the painful rupture in trust and intimacy, softening the scar, and never returning to the issue again.
For many of us, this is difficult, if not impossible. It becomes even harder when the harm was cruel, intentional, and impactful, such as childhood abuse, rape, or bullying.
Even when we intend to forgive, painful memories can resurface, tug at the scar tissue, and disrupt our wish to return to lost innocence. We try to forgive, but never forget.
Forgiveness feels impossible as long as we cling to this narrative of “damage”: “The perpetrator violated me. My life is worse because of it. My well-being and success have been compromised.” The gap between what my life could have been and what it is becomes the source of my pain, suffering, and disappointment. This mindset forces me to accept being a lesser person before I can forgive, thereby adding self-deprecation onto the abuse I already suffered.
This idea of forgiveness is misleading. It assumes that life could have unfolded differently, that there is such a thing as a better or worse version of our lives. But this is based on personal preference, not objective truth.
True forgiveness requires acknowledging that I was confused. I don’t need anything from the other person. My memory of the experience is tangled up with attachment to a self-image, clinging to certain feelings or states, and fantasies of how life should be. The real problem lies in the assumption that I know what a good life is. But my judgments about the quality of my life are groundless—a mixture of societal conditioning and personal preferences. What was considered a good life in the 15th century might be seen as horrific today. Similarly, a good life in the capitalist West might be a nightmare for an Amazonian tribal community.
I was never damaged. My life is not lesser because of my past. A full life is already in my hands, waiting to be recognized. I was simply blinded by what I wanted it to be. When I let go of this wishful thinking, my need for contrition from others will fade. Acknowledging my confusion is true forgiveness. It offers a real reset, a beginner’s mind, a newfound innocence, and an open future.
(Disclaimer: Forgiveness does not negate the righteous claim for justice. This message aims to support your liberation, not limit your actions. Fighting for justice can be an act of selfless compassion, carried out with clear and lucid awareness.)
Comments