Dilemma of Forgiveness

Recently I was thinking of fuck ups. And it led me to the topic of forgiveness. So in today's blog, let's discuss that dilemma. I will use some personal experiences to drive the conversation. And it all started with my grandfather.

An absolute asshole, a total nutjob, an absolutely narcissistic crackhead, if we're being metaphorical and honest. The sheer volume of trauma he inflicted on me, and on our entire family across lineages, is absolutely mental. We’re talking physical abuse, mind-fucking blame games, a complete, fucked-up mistrust of his own children. He genuinely considered other people beneath him and treated them like dog shit. I've got deep-seated, festering trauma associated with that man.

Then, a couple of years ago, the old fucker finally kicked the bucket. And wouldn't you know it, he left behind a huge sum of money for his children and grandchildren. Enough, at least, to pay off my goddamn education loan. And after that check cleared, the whole fucking perspective of the entire family shifted. Suddenly, I started hearing whispers, then outright pronouncements: "Maybe he wasn't so bad after all." For a fleeting, disorienting moment, even I thought the same damn thing. But when that wave of financial relief passed, and things settled down, that’s when the real shit hit the fan for me. 

I am genuinely, incredibly grateful. I express my gratitude that a huge chunk of my loan was sorted out, that our family has fewer liabilities now, and that in his death, he for once, sorted something out. But am I now supposed to forgive this person for all the fucking pain he caused, for all the trauma he inflicted?

This dilemma, by the way, isn't exclusive to dead people who leave a final, inconveniently generous parting gift. This shit happens with living relatives too, or even friends. Someone can spend years being an absolute monster, wrecking lives, tearing down your spirit, and then, suddenly, they step in and "sort you out" with a job, a place to live, or a substantial amount of cash. And just like that, the air fills with uncomfortable suggestions that maybe, just maybe, they're not so bad after all. Maybe you should just "let bygones be bygones" because they did this one good thing. That’s the real mindfuck.

We're constantly told to "think positively" of a person, to "focus on the good." But my question is, just because they threw a bone in this one instance, are we suddenly supposed to wipe the slate clean and forget about all the bad, all the monstrous shit someone has done? That's like saying Hitler was a good person because some modern innovations came out of the war. It’s an extreme example, I know, but it hammers home the point: one isolated act of perceived goodness doesn't magically negate a lifetime of abject cruelty.

There's this insidious human tendency, isn't there? When something beneficial drops into our lap, especially when it’s something as tangible as money, we start to rationalize, to soften the edges of even the most brutal truths. It's like our brains try to balance the scales: "Well, he was a dick, but look! He gave us cash!" It's a convenient narrative, a psychological shortcut to avoid the discomfort of holding two conflicting, ugly truths at once. But that convenience comes at a price.

And the problem isn't even just about the ability to forgive. I might intellectually try to forgive the person. I might even say the words out loud. But deep down, the trauma within me, that shit is left unhealed, unaddressed. It’s a fucking wound. No matter how much we talk about forgiveness, those scars aren't going anywhere. They don’t just magically vanish because someone decided to be financially generous.

This is about my peace, and how does someone truly heal those wounds if we just let all the suffering the person has caused slide by because of their one act of goodness? Because here’s the cold, hard truth: forgiveness, for many, is an internal journey, a choice to release the grip of resentment for your own sake. But that doesn't mean you have to forget the pain. It doesn’t mean you condone the abuse. And it certainly doesn't mean those deep-seated wounds are suddenly gone.

Healing trauma is a separate, arduous, often lifelong fucking process. It involves acknowledging the damage, feeling the pain, and rebuilding yourself brick by brick. It’s not about slapping a bandage of "forgiveness" over a bullet wound and pretending it’s all better. It’s about confronting the shit that happened, regardless of who paid for your tuition.

The content and ideas presented in this article are my own. AI tools were used solely to assist in refining language and enhancing readability.