Forgiveness has been one of the most misunderstood spiritual teachings of our time.

For many of us raised within Christian culture, forgiveness was presented not as a process, but as an obligation — something we must do immediately in order to remain “good,” “righteous,” or “right with God.”

We were taught that if we don’t forgive others, God won’t forgive us. That our own worthiness hinges on how quickly we can let go of what was done to us.

But this version of forgiveness — forgive and forget, forgive to be forgiven — has quietly harmed generations.

The Harm in Rushed Forgiveness

In the Judeo-Christian framework, forgiveness often centers on worthiness:
Because we are seen as “sinners,” we must continually prove our humility by extending forgiveness to others, no matter how deeply we’ve been hurt.

The result?

1. We bypass our pain.
   We rush to say “I forgive you” before we’ve even allowed ourselves to name or feel the wound. Grief and anger — the body’s natural responses to injury — are suppressed in the name of being “Christlike.”
   
   

2. We lose our boundaries.
   When forgiveness becomes a moral requirement, it’s easy to confuse it with reconciliation.
   We return to relationships that harm us, stay quiet when we’re mistreated, and call it grace.
   
   

Forgiveness, as it’s often taught, becomes another tool of self-abandonment — one that keeps the injured person silenced and the offender unaccountable.

It’s not that forgiveness is wrong — it’s that we’ve been taught to skip the sacred steps that make it real.

A Different Way: The Indigenous Understanding of Forgiveness

In many Indigenous cultures, forgiveness is not a commandment.
It is a sacred process — one that honors the pain, the impact, and the time it takes for healing to unfold.

Forgiveness is seen as a spiritual force — something that must first do its work within each individual before it can do its work between them.

The injured person and the one who caused harm each have their own journey.
Both must confront what happened, feel the weight of it, and take responsibility for their part.

Only when forgiveness has ripened in both hearts are they brought together — not to erase what happened, but to witness and honor what has changed.

Some cultures even assign mentors or spiritual elders to guide each person through this process — to hold them accountable for the deep inner work of truth, grief, and repair.

This is forgiveness as transformation — not transaction.

Honoring Pain as Sacred

True forgiveness doesn’t deny what happened.
It doesn’t demand that you minimize the hurt or rush past the impact.

It says: What happened matters. You matter. The pain matters.

To truly forgive, we must first be willing to stand in the full truth of what occurred — to feel the anger, the grief, the loss, the betrayal — and to let those feelings move through us until compassion can emerge naturally, not forced.

Forgiveness is not instant.
It is sacred work that unfolds over time.

Boundaries Are Not Unforgiveness

Forgiveness does not mean the restoration of a relationship.
It does not mean removing the boundaries that keep you safe.

There are times when reconnection is possible — when both parties have done their work and can meet in truth.
But there are many times when forgiveness must exist without reconciliation, because to re-engage would be to re-enter harm.

Forgiveness can coexist with distance.
It can coexist with clarity, with self-protection, and with peace.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do — for yourself and for the other — is to forgive and walk away.

The True Essence of Forgiveness

Forgiveness is not a command.
It’s a current — a living energy that moves through us when the time is right.

Its purpose is not to erase, but to transform.
To help us see our shared humanity without denying our personal truth.
To restore compassion — first for ourselves, and then, maybe one day, for the one who caused harm.

Forgiveness, when it’s real, creates peace without erasing the past.
It turns pain into wisdom and restores us to wholeness — not by pretending the wound never happened, but by allowing the heart to become strong enough to hold it all.

So take your time.
Honor your pain.
Let forgiveness work within you before you offer it to anyone else.

Because forgiveness that honors the truth is the only kind that sets you free.