In the conventional view, the decision to forgive must not be based on whether the perpetrator deserves it; only then can the independent will of the victim be guaranteed. In fact, refusing to forgive a heartless mother or other betrayer expresses a person's right to his or her own feelings. Recognizing that you are under no obligation to profess love you do not feel is a hard-won freedom.
REFORMED FORGIVERS
We tend to think of forgiveness as the best, healthiest way to resolve an intimate injury, and of learning to forgive as one of life's greatest lessons. Sometimes the opposite is true. Learning not to forgive, after a life in which forgiveness has been compulsive, imposed or unconsidered, is an impressive achievement.
Daily life provides many circumstances where offensive and unchangeable behavior should not be excused and where forgiving is confused with submerging normal reactions to mistreatment. Yet even when the culprit is a peer and not a parent, and the injury is mundane, it can take years for a person to stop extending second chances.
Rita Bergman reversed her lifelong tendency to do what she was told when she turned 75. "As I've grown older I've begun to think more about what I need. Screw it, I don't have to forgive anymore," she exclaimed. The object of Rita's newfound insight was an old friend who had become so obnoxious and critical that she was offending everyone she knew. "I felt terribly sorry for her. She hasn't been the same person since she lost her husband and son a few years ago, and she's all alone."
Repeated infuriating lunches, in which every aspect of her appearance was scrutinized and found wanting, made Rita vow to sever the tie, but she always ended up reconsidering for old times' sake. Only after Rita's closest friend refused to see her if this woman accompanied them did Rita realize enough was enough, stopped making the dates she had come to dread, and ended the relationship.
As with more serious injustices, understanding the source of someone's inexcusable behavior--even feeling sympathy for her plight--does not justify endless exposure to it; there is a fine line between compassion and compliance. "I don't believe in carrying grudges at this point in my life," Rita said, "but how long could I continue to ignore my own feelings? I was always very timid and never opened my mouth, but now that has changed." Rita's refusal to overlook her unfortunate friend's hostility any longer is an act of self-respect that took a lifetime to attain.
Forgiving without reconciling is acceptable; why not reconciling without forgiving? People often wound one another in the name of truth; a person has a right to employ judicial dishonesty to protect him- or herself against being wounded by others.
Sarah Goodman recently reversed her pattern of placating her older sister Wendy. Stricken with a rare cancer in childhood, married to a repugnant layabout, Wendy has lived a life of bad luck and bad judgment. Sarah's duties as the "good" daughter included overlooking Wendy's rages and insults in childhood, and not objecting when as an adult Wendy refused to help care for their dying father.
"I was the one who was always pressured to do the right thing," Sarah said. "That was my script. I'd give in to keep the peace, but I can't and won't do it anymore; her problems are not my fault, and the way she vanished when our father got sick was inexcusable. I used to cry and curse her; now I'm civil. I'm no longer capable of forgiving her, whether she deserves it or not."
Sarah's cordiality toward her sister, which she maintains for her mother's sake, is a conscious pretense on her part and her best defense; she has decided that confrontation is too costly. "It never worked in the past, and now if I tell her how I feel I'll be punished. I don't wish her harm, but I want nothing to do with her on an emotional level."
Sarah frankly admits she derives secret pleasure in the privacy of her own heart from no longer turning the other cheek. Her customized solution involves a measure of hypocrisy, without self-delusion.
Unforgiving reconciliation is an ethical form of retribution. Like other responsible types of unforgiveness, it provides relief, closure and insight. "At my father's funeral I saw what a miserable person she was, a tormented soul who hasn't connected to anybody," Sarah recalled with more sadness than satisfaction. "I feel that really wonderful sense of indifference you have when you break up with somebody and you think you'll never get over the pain, and then one day you bump into each other on the street and wonder how you ever felt that way." Refusing to be what a priest might call "the bigger person" freed Sarah to be her own person.
Forgiveness and unforgiveness are not polar opposites but points on a continuum. The same internal processes can lead to emotionally authentic resolutions in either direction. Anyone who has gone through the profound and punishing process of conscious forgiving or not forgiving emerges more self-aware, more related to others, and less burdened by the past.
When it is genuine, forgiveness is a capacity, not a compulsion; this is why the same person can grant it or withhold it, depending on the circumstances. The ability to discriminate signifies maturity and freedom.
Madame de Stael was wrong. Understanding need not lead to forgiveness--but it can lead to wisdom.
Adapted from Forgiving & Not Forgiving: A New Approach to Resolving Intimate Betrayal by Jeanne Safer, Ph.D. (Avon Books, August 1999).
A Q&A WITH JEANE SAFER, Ph.D.
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