Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?
- Rumi
This post examines self-forgiveness, a recurring theme in my psychology practice and reflections.
My first encounter with forgiveness happened during my practicum at a partial hospital for adults with co-occurring mental health and substance use disorders. Initially, I believed people who abused drugs simply made a choice. I later realized many used substances to cope with emotional pain or to connect with others. Many of my clients came from a traumatic background with abusive or neglectful parents, domestic violence, poverty, homelessness, war, crime, etc. Guided by my clinical supervisor, I used the Seeking Safety treatment manual by Dr. Lisa M. Najavits and her companion book, Recovery from Trauma, Addiction, or Both. From this work, the importance of self-forgiveness stood out and resonated with my clients. Forgiving oneself felt like a foreign concept to me at the time, but the idea planted a seed in my mind.
Dr. Judith Lewis Herman wrote in Trauma and Recovery: "The child trapped in an abusive environment is faced with formidable tasks of adaptation. She must find a way to preserve a sense of trust in people who are untrustworthy, safety in a situation that is unsafe, control in a situation that is terrifyingly unpredictable, power in a situation of helplessness. Unable to care for or protect herself, she must compensate for the failures of adult care and protection with the only means at her disposal, an immature system of psychological defenses."
This insight shed light on the long-term impact on child abuse survivors. For instance, they may find themselves constantly trying to prove to others that they are useful and worthy of love, desperately seeking approval from their parents or their partner. If their effort goes unrecognized, they try harder rather than acknowledge that the parent or partner might be the one causing the dread. They would rather believe they are the failure who does not deserve to be loved than accept that their parent or partner does not actually care enough about them. Another layer is to acknowledge potential shame related to this. If my own parents don’t even care about me, then who will? By recognizing my partner is an abuser, does that mean I have made the wrong choice? As a child, you did not have a choice in who your parents would be or whether they would be able to provide you with the love you deserve. Additionally, as a child abuse survivor, you are more likely to seek a partner who can be abusive, despite all your conscious efforts to avoid one. This, however, is a topic I will save for another post.
In contrast, some abuse survivors may acknowledge that their abusers have caused them harm. They try to convince themselves that they have grown out of the pain and have become a better person. At the same time, they may force themselves to forgive the abusers and provide them with empathy. Maybe the abuser also has a trauma history and did not know better. By forgiving the abuser, the trauma becomes less traumatic and more meaningful. The survivor may further extend themselves by going back and trying to save the abuser from their trauma. If I helped the abuser recognize how they have also been impacted by trauma, they might show some empathy about how they hurt me and thus repair my wound. Unfortunately, although it sounds beautiful, it rarely works out that way. The abuser may distort the story and may not feel tempted to take the responsibility for the harm they have caused, because by accepting the responsibility, they must face their shadows.
With these patterns in mind, examining our thoughts, feelings, and intentions without judgment becomes a vital lesson in healing. Instead of directing our energy toward those who harmed us, we benefit from nurturing and forgiving ourselves. To truly move forward, we must commit to accepting what has become history and relinquishing the hope of a different past or a different ending of the story.
I would like to end with a few lines from Rumi’s Enough Words?
How does a part of the world leave the world?
How can wetness leave water?
No matter how fast you run,
your shadow more than keeps up.
Sometimes, it’s in front!
Only full, overhead sun
diminishes your shadow.
But that shadow has been serving you!
What hurts you, blesses you.
Darkness is your candle.
Your boundaries are your quest.
You must have shadow and light source both.
Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe.
Towards the end of the poem, Rumi uses a metaphor of a frog and a snake. While the frog can hide or fight, it remains entangled with the snake until it is completely silent—then the snake withdraws, and the frog reaches the barley. The soul lives there in the silent breath. By finding peace within and accepting our history, we claim our healing. We are not required to forgive or forget those who harmed us. Instead, we heal from our past by embracing our shadows, desires, and unfulfilled hopes, for they make us who we are and lead us to self-fulfillment.