WHY DO WE FORGIVE OTHERS FOR WHAT WE COULD NEVER FORGIVE IN OURSELVES?
Forgiveness is a complex act, often filled with contradictions. We forgive out of kindness, selfishness, fear, or even vanity. Yet sometimes, we easily forgive others while refusing to offer ourselves the same grace. Why? Because forgiving others can sometimes be a way of absolving ourselves, of not carrying the weight of mistakes alone. But at what cost? Every forgiveness given without reflection makes a piece of our integrity disappear. We end up tolerating things we once swore we would never accept, simply because we became attached to those people, or because we fear loneliness more than pain. In the end, this gap between what we allow ourselves and what we offer others reveals how much harsher our judgments are toward ourselves.
I have forgiven strangers, temporary companions, people I never truly cared about. Forgiveness felt easy, almost like a game. Because I knew it wasn’t forever, that those bonds were fragile. So I allowed them to be imperfect, to hurt me, without consequences. But when it comes to the people we truly love, the ones we let into our roots, forgiveness becomes a burden impossible to carry. For them, I can stay angry for years, while for strangers, I forgive in an instant.
HOW FAR ARE WE WILLING TO HUMILIATE OURSELVES JUST TO FEEL ALIVE ?
Sometimes, the fear of emptiness and silence pushes us to lower ourselves, to silence our dignity just to avoid losing a connection. Sometimes we betray ourselves, bow our heads, hide our wounds, hoping to keep someone close. This excessive humility is not always wisdom, but often a silent cry to avoid disappearing into loneliness or being forgotten. Yet this need to feel “alive” through someone else’s presence or gaze quickly becomes a cage. We begin to confuse suffering with attachment, and we sink into relationships that slowly destroy us because we believe we have no other choice. But losing yourself in that fight is denying your own worth.
My best friend was truly the only person with whom I felt completely myself, from A to Z.
With her, I could say anything, do anything. She accepted all my flaws, my excesses, my silences, everything. But the problem is that what I believed was our strength eventually became a weakness. There was one thing she struggled to understand.
She couldn’t understand how I could treat strangers with so much kindness, openness, and softness, while with her, it felt as though she was never allowed to make mistakes, never allowed to fail or weaken. It was clearly hypocrisy.
That invisible imbalance created a distance between us.
I could become angry over trivial things, like when she didn’t answer the phone while I was out at night, even though she knew I could “potentially” be in danger. I could stop speaking to her for days because of that. Yet at the same time, I was capable of forgiving my abuser, while with her, my heart would burn over insignificant things.
I eventually realized that I had placed an enormous responsibility on my best friend, as if she were my mother or my father, when she was only my friend. And even if our friendship was passionate, I too often forgot that people do not belong to us.
And I regret not cherishing that friendship the way I should have.
She was the one who deserved my patience, my forgiveness, and my gentleness above anyone else.
WHAT IS OUR LIMIT WHEN IT COMES TO KEEPING SOMEONE IN OUR LIFE?
Human relationships are not possessions, as I said before. Yet we often behave as if we have ownership over the people we love. We cling to promises, memories, and expectations, even when they suffocate our essence. The fear of losing what we built together sometimes pushes us to accept the unacceptable, to betray our own needs and boundaries until we completely lose ourselves. This betrayal of the self, although painful, is often experienced as less terrifying than the emptiness left behind. But the truth is that life is far too vast and too rich to imprison yourself inside a relationship that suffocates you. Learning to let go, learning to set boundaries, is a form of justice toward yourself. Real courage is accepting that some people are simply not meant to stay, no matter how deeply we love them.
I lost myself in that waiting, in those expectations. I wanted someone else to be my pillar when I could not even be one for myself. And I forgot that forgiveness cannot erase everything, nor repair everything.
Today, I ask myself: why is my heart so harsh toward the people I love the most, yet so gentle toward those who mean nothing to me? Why can I forgive strangers for terrible things, but not the people with whom I share my life?
Forgiveness.
Such a human word, one that challenges us every single day.
We cling to relationships that destroy us. In some cases, we bind ourselves to people who are not meant for us, and to promises that will never come true. When the truth is that there are seven billion people on this earth. Other friendships, other loves, other souls are waiting for us. Yes, learning to meet new people and open yourself again is exhausting. But it is better to endure the pain of loss and loneliness than to trap yourself inside a toxic relationship.
With time, I learned to let go. I understood that no one can understand me as deeply as I understand myself. There will always be people who doubt every gesture others make because they doubt themselves.
As for me, I no longer have anything to prove to anyone because now I know myself. And I know that I do not need to be kind to everyone in order to be a good person. I must first begin with the people who are truly mine, because they are the ones who deserved everything I was giving away to others.
And my life has become lighter since I started setting boundaries. Since I accepted that some people are simply meant to leave.
There is the liberating kind of forgiveness, the one that heals, lightens, and repairs. And then there is the forgiveness we give under pressure, out of need, out of weakness.
That kind of forgiveness heals nothing.
It suffocates. Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves, not others. And the worst thing is not losing someone else. It is losing yourself.
That is the real sadness.