My Post Yom Kippur Thoughts on Forgiving Assholes

Ch. 3, page 19: “Forgiveness is shame’s worst enemy, and fucking up’s best friend. Forgiveness will unburden, unblock, and set you free. When you fuck up (and you will, if you haven’t already a million times) don’t make things worse by beating yourself up with prolonged shame, regret, and rumination. Forgive yourself, early and often.

Admittedly, I’ve fucked up a million times, and probably did asshole things. That said, I’ve tried hard to make amends to myself, God, and the people on the receiving end of my assholery. Hopefully they’ve forgiven me, if not, I’ll do it myself.

Now let’s talk about forgiving others—the hardest thing you’ll ever do, and the most loving gesture you can ever give yourself.

Forgiving someone who wronged you isn’t about letting them off the hook, it’s about releasing the pain you carry because of them. When you forgive, you put yourself first and make your well-being a priority.

In other words, if someone was an asshole to you, forgiving them means you’re no longer dwelling on them or giving them space in your head. It doesn’t mean that they’re not assholes for what they did, it just means you’ve put them–and your anger/hurt–in their proper places. When you forgive, you free yourself and find neutrality and detachment.

As I like to say, “Living well isn’t the best revenge, being indifferent is.”

The practice of detachment is so crucial to forgiveness, especially if the asshole doesn’t apologize. I’ve had boyfriends cheat on me, friends betray me, family turn their backs on me, and very rarely was there any reflection, come to Jesus, or come to Treva with an apology for the pain they caused.

If they don’t apologize, how do I know they’re not still an a-hole?

What stops people from saying “I’m sorry?” Pettiness, grudge-holding, shame, guilt, embarrassment, weakness, low self-worth, and FEAR. One of the best ways I’ve ever seen it summed up was this:

I did recently make up with an old friend with whom I had a falling out. She did an asshole thing, and I thought we’d never find our way back. But to her credit, she worked hard to earn my trust again, and I worked just as hard to trust her. It took balls on both of our parts to be friends, but we’re doing it. We get together, talk and text often, and socialize with our husbands.

Here’s what I’ve learned: You can’t change assholes, they have to want to change. It’s their work to do and journey in life. Most of the assholes that were in my life know EXACTLY why they’re not in it anymore, but I’ll still hold out hope for redemption.

Ch. 3, page 21: “You may never get the apologies you think you’re owed; you may never get the mea culpas you think you deserve; you may never get the “I’m sorry” you so desperately want to hear—so it’s incumbent upon you to find your own forgiveness. Holding on to anger just gives your oppressor more power.

Most of my fuckups were self-inflicted, but as mentioned, there were times where I unintentionally caused pain to someone. As you can tell, I’m a big fan of making amends. I have no problem falling on my sword; I try to make things right, and when I say “I’m sorry” I mean it.

Sometimes forgiveness and grace work their magic, and you find your way back to someone. Sometimes it doesn’t, and you lose them forever. If someone won’t forgive you, then it’s on you to find a way to forgive yourself.

I’ve been on all sides of the forgiveness equation, and here’s what English poet Alexander Pope and I can tell you: “To err is human, to forgive, divine.” If you can accept your failings and forgive yourself (and others), you’re more than divine—you’re my hero.”

On that note, I wish you all a L’ Shana Tova, G’mar Chatima Tovah, and Gut Yontif, which in English means that even if you’re an asshole, I forgive you, and if I was an asshole, I hope you’ll forgive me too. Love, Treva.

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