A few years ago, I caught up with a friend visiting NYC. He was staying with someone I'd apparently met before. My friend hesitated to remind me how I knew his host. Turns out, 7 years ago, I said something that potentially offended this person—and he still remembers it. In fact, he thinks I'm still that same person.
Processing this, I realized I've thankfully done enough inner work not to be upset or judge him for holding onto a single interaction from 7 years ago that I don't even remember. But this isn't rare. I share because it happens constantly.
Someone gets hurt or offended, never mentions it to the person who caused it, and lets that moment not just fester but define who that person is forever. We do this societally without realizing it. People experiencing homelessness become "the homeless." Incarcerated individuals become defined solely by their crimes. As David Ramirez powerfully sings, "We love the broken, not the forgiven."
Worst of all, we do this to everyday people in our lives—family members, former friends. I'm not suggesting the person who made the mistake shouldn't be accountable. Quite the opposite.
Having the courage to tell someone how they've hurt you gives them a chance to own their shortcoming and you a chance to rewrite the narrative you've created about them.
When left to our imaginations, we only see others through the lens of our hurt. While ideally, people would recognize when they've caused harm and make amends, that's not realistic.
Think about your own life. How much do you actually remember? There have likely been countless situations where you could have done better but didn't realize you caused pain. This realization breeds compassion—understanding it's human to be selfish, demand justice for ourselves, and scapegoat others instead of taking responsibility.
The more subtle consequence of not sharing how someone hurt you—or not forgiving them—is how it eats away at you. I know from experience. I’ve resisted having difficult conversations because of fear. Fear of rejection, abandonment, discomfort, being vulnerable and risking making it worse. I was trapped for years, bound up in unforgiveness like a straightjacket.
Jordan Peterson puts it well: "Having an honest conversation with someone about how they hurt you is challenging. But not having that conversation and letting resentment build is detrimental."
Nelson Mandela, who understood forgiveness profoundly, said, "Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies."
You might not be ready for that conversation. That's okay. Accept where you are, but find capacity to forgive and begin healing. Whether that person changes isn't up to you and isn't the point. You are still responsible for forgiving and healing.
The point is you owe yourself this freedom. You may also need forgiveness yourself. Even if you can't personally be forgiven by someone you've wronged, accept that you are forgiven.
There exists a deeper love within us that transcends our ability to hurt and gives us freedom to heal.
I don't know if I'll ever talk with my friend's NYC host or if what I said was truly wrong. But I know I'm forgiven, and I've asked for forgiveness in my heart. If we ever do speak, I look forward to showing love and seeing him set free, as I slowly am through this powerful practice.
To hear more about forgiveness, check out this podcast I did with Dr. Fred Luskin- an expert on the subject:
Questions
Who do you need to forgive?
Who needs to forgive you?
How do you experience forgiveness in your life?
Wisdom to Remember:
"No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. They must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite." – Nelson Mandela
"As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison." – Nelson Mandela