I'm Sorry

The topic of forgiveness has been in the air, lately.  There's something about the wintry holiday season that makes people think about making up with those they've been in conflict with.  It's a theme in many movies (anyone recall Neil Diamond's "The Jazz Singer" from the 1980s?), sermons, holiday-themed novels, magazine articles.

It's always a nice thought, "making up." The reality is that "making up" is a lot harder to do. 

We've all seen the films where the estranged relative or friend or whoever makes an entrance at a family gathering, usually a holiday or a wedding or some such thing.  The person the relative is estranged from gets a pained, pleased, tearful, joyful expression on his face and suddenly there are lots of knowing smiles from those who witness this event, and everyone is hugging and clinking glasses in joyful toasts to the renewed relationship.

(cue: swelling music)

It's a nice moment, but what happens afterward?  Is everything back to normal from that point on, or is there hours and hours of conversation where old hurts are re-hashed and dissected and new hurts are born out of old arguments and misperceptions?

Most people don't know how to forgive and forget. 

We're only human.  We can say we forgive, but it doesn't necessarily mean we mean it, at least right away.  And we rarely forget entirely the infraction that caused the problem to begin with.

We're only human.  Forgiveness takes time.  Forgiveness takes practice. 

I have a few theories about this, if you can bear with me.

I recently read a short article about forgiveness (Ann O'Connor, "Please, forgive me," Finding God, Volume 6/Issue 2, 2009). The author was a woman who had argued with her teen daughter.  The mother kept saying to her daughter, "I'm sorry," and she really meant it.  But, she said, her daughter was still upset and the two weren't able to overcome the hurdle of the argument.  The mother thought on it for some time, perhaps she prayed, and then approached her daughter and asked, "Can you forgive me?"  The mother said it was like a magic door had been opened.  She and her daughter were able to communicate better about their argument and finally resolve the issue.

Here's one theory.  When we tell someone "I'm sorry,"  we may genuinely mean it.  But oftentimes, saying "I'm sorry" is a way of giving ourselves permission to forgive ourselves, rather than the person we've wronged truly being able to accept our apology.

Now, most people, when someone says, "I'm sorry," will reply, "Oh, that's all right," or some generic equivalent.  This response has been programmed into us from childhood. Sometimes, the other person means it when they respond in this manner.  Other times, the hurt still festers and things are never put right because of it.

Here's another theory.  When we can ask someone, "Do you/can you/will you forgive me," that other person knows first of all, that we are sorry.  The other person should know that the perpetrator of hurt has really thought about the conflict and acknowledges his/her own part in the problem.  The guilty party isn't just paying lip service to apologize and move on with life - the person is really asking for that other person to forgive him/her.

Now, this isn't to say that the guilty party is always 100% responsible for the rift.  We all know there are two sides to every story, it takes two to tango, etc.  It's usually pretty rare that only one person is responsible for a rift in a relationship.

If the other person can say, "Yes, I forgive you,"  what a wonderful gift to all involved.  The phrase "I forgive you" may not make the music swell and the flowers bloom.  It may not restore to perfection the relationship that was once had.  But, "I forgive you" can go a long way toward making a relationship possible again.

In some ways, "I forgive you" is an acknowledgement that there was wrongdoing, and can establish a new set of ground rules.  If you recognize that you need forgiveness, for example, and you receive it, one would hope you wouldn't keep doing whatever it was that caused the rift to begin with.  Saying "I'm sorry" tends to lead to such behavior because "I'm sorry" is often an empty phrase, said just to placate and used defensively.  For example, "I SAID I was SORRY!"  As if that is all it takes to make something "better" again.  Because "I'm sorry" is often used so thoughtlessly, we tend to forget as soon as we've said it the reason why we said it.

And if we're honest with ourselves, we'll see there's some truth in this.

Now, when there is an argument or a conflict, typically after the hurt registers we want to get even.  Some people withdraw, mull over the pain, magnify it, nurse it, and then decide to "get even" with the person/s who caused it.  Retaliation may cause a momentary satisfaction, but it does nothing to truly make either person feel better. 

Sometimes, when someone says "I forgive you" they think it gives them free rein to then dictate the terms of the relationship from that point on.  Holding the forgiveness over someone's head, like a sharpened guilliotine blade, ready to fall the moment that forgiven person says or does something slightly out of line, is not true forgiveness.  It's a form of retaliation.

I am reminded of a Miss Manners column from years ago, where a frustrated writer complained that when she told people, "I'm sorry, I can't attend," the other person always demanded to know WHY.  Miss Manners responded that it was poor manners to always demand a reason - we should always be satisfied, at least on the surface, with the statement given: I'm sorry, I can't attend.  To demand a reason might embarrass the other person.

We are a society that often gives, and receives, too much information.

We always want to be sure the other person understands our point of view. I think this is why we continue to talk after saying "I'm sorry" or "I forgive you." We want to know that the other person fully comprehends what we went through in our pain, how mortified we were, how depressed, angry, upset, etc. and all the reasons why we felt those emotions.When we say "I'm sorry" or "I forgive you," the statements should come with no strings attached.  For instance, to say "I'm sorry, but you really blah blah blah blah" isn't fair, and just continues to rehash the reason why saying "I'm sorry" was needed to begin with.  Likewise, saying "I forgive you, but if you ever blah blah blah" negates the forgiveness factor.




And, another theory.  It's impossible for us to have complete control in every situation, every relationship.  To forgive someone restores an element of control.  If someone asks me, "Do you forgive me," I can say "Yes," or "No," and thus control the direction the relationship takes from that point on.  Asking forgiveness also gives a little control to the asker, as well. It is a way of confronting a problem head on, but in a different, much more sincere way. As long as you are sincere.

Forgiveness should not be about control, however. Forgiveness should be simply. . . forgiveness.  No strings attached.

Forgiveness shouldn't be an arbitrary thing, either.  "Oh, it's been a few days of you twisting in the wind and being on tenterhooks, so....I'll forgive you. La la la la la!"  Forgiveness shouldn't be an occasion to torture.

It may take a while to "forget," or "move on," after forgiveness.  Some people, when angry, say things and really mean them, and they aren't sorry for what was said or done.  Others say things and don't mean them, and are sorry for what was said or done.  Either way, most people are sorry about the results of misplaced words or actions, some of which are made out of pure thoughtlessness and not any desire to truly hurt someone.

Asking for forgiveness need not be a deeply religious experience where your minister or rabbi must be present at every occasion, or Disney-esque birds and flowers appear the moment forgiveness is near.  For many people though, saying I'm sorry, or asking for forgiveness can be a very humbling experience.  "Can you forgive me" sounds archaic to our ears, and thus very awkward from our lips.  It can be a very intimate phrase to say.  We aren't comfortable with intimate and archaic, they're too private, personal, too close to our hearts whether or not we want to admit it.

Now, I'm in a situation where I wronged someone. It was unintentional, certainly not personal, at least from my point of view. But, I did it, and it was thoughtless.  The other person was understandably upset, disappointed, and then made an insulting statement to me.  I felt the insult very personally, I felt wounded - and it became obvious to me that what I had done was felt very personally by the other individual.  "But I said I was sorry and I meant it," I thought to myself.  That may be true, but maybe the end of the conflict doesn't come when one person says, "I'm sorry," leaving the other party with no response. 

Because, maybe it isn't "ok" or "all right."  Perhaps, asking for forgiveness not only forces us to acknowledge that "I'm sorry" isn't always good enough, but also allows the other person to engage in what is really being asked, rather than continuing to be unwilling to let the hurt go. 

Granted, a person may not ever be forgiven, and both sides will have to learn to live with the new dynamics of the personal or professional relationship.  Sometimes, a hurt is so deep that there is no forgiving. If that's the case, choices need to be made:  Is it better to not be with such a hurtful person? Is there something I can say or do to improve the situation? 


If you're the one who can't be forgiven, you also have choices to make.  Have I truly made every effort to mend the problem? Have I honestly asked forgiveness and made apology, no strings attached? Are my actions denying my words?

Whether or not you are forgiven, and whether or not you forgive, there are always choices.  What happens is up to you, and you aren't going to know unless you ask.

Will you forgive me?


this post also appears at http://www.spanitz.com/, Spanitz Consulting, "Articles and News," http://www.spanitz.com/artman/publish/index.shtml  (Northern Michigan Notes).