You can forgive some people without letting them back into your life. 

Apology accepted, access denied. 

It’s not as harsh as it sounds when it’s intentional and wise, not reactive. In many cases, the apology isn’t present, or, if it is, it is words betrayed by behavior. Trust cannot be rebuilt without effort. Often, the offender isn’t willing to do the work to mend the offense. Disrespect can permanently close doors that apologies cannot reopen. Perhaps the offender can’t even get to a place where they believe an offense was made, let alone concede they were the culprit, and if there was no offense, there is no need for an apology. If there was no offense and no need for an apology, there is no need for mending and reconciliation. 

I’ve noticed another dynamic in many of these situations. Despite there being no need for an apology when the burden is placed in their own direction because the offense is minimized, the tables are easily turned when they shift blame in the opposite direction. When they do, the offense is not minimized, the burden is heavier, and there is suddenly more of an offense. Whether or not there is a fracture in the relationship shifts depending on whom the responsibility would fall in any given moment in the discussion. Whether due to manipulative gaslighting or someone’s own deception to themselves, the result is the same—a portrayal of a reality that doesn’t exist and a misguided blame that only confuses the situation and builds the chasm of a relationship.

If you’re the offender who isn’t able or willing to see yourself as such, there is little I can say to change your stance. These words aren’t for you, because your feet are in concrete. You don’t see it that way, because  you’ve convinced yourself and those close to you there is another reality—one more palatable to you. It has to be that way for you to breathe each day. The cadence of your life would be inconveniently interrupted and would require more outside-your-comfort-zone than you might be capable of.

These words are for the person wrestling with their next steps. They aren’t sure how much access to give. They aren’t sure how much time to consider. They aren’t sure what they believe and trust. They don’t know how to forgive and if they can or even want to. What does forgiveness require?

It doesn’t require access. It doesn’t require a stamp of approval stating “It’s okay.” It requires a pause, reflection, and response. I believe it’s rare for forgiveness to come at the time someone’s words ask for it. In my experience, especially in the circumstances calling for the deepest, hardest forgiveness in my life, there were no words asking for it. There was no admission of wrongdoing. But even if there had been, the words in a moment of time would have been shadowed by the everyday burden of hurt. When your world is fractured, band-aid words have a minimal effect. It’s the constant kintsugi-ing that heals. It’s also the same process that forgives. Kintsugi is a Japanese art of piecing together broken pottery by using a strong mixture of lacquer with either gold, silver, or platinum in the seams. The seams are not hidden. They become part of the beauty of the wholeness. The pottery would not be whole without the seams. 

In my experience, I would not be whole without forgiveness.

A word didn’t mend me into wholeness. It is a process. It is one choice after another. It requires uprooting weeds of anger and blame, discontent and frustration. Of course, it’s not constant. The diligence of weeding over time keeps the growth minimal, so much so that it’s surprising when something pesky sprouts. 

Denying access isn’t a reaction to keep someone out. It also isn’t solely about protecting yourself. We can rationalize a lot with the phrase “healthy boundaries,” but we can overuse the phrase. Of course, we need to know what healthy boundaries involve, but we can’t live in a bubble. We need to know how to cope with a variety of situations. We need to know how to problem solve, deal with conflict, and have difficult conversations. We shouldn’t stay in a bubble because we’re uncomfortable. Sound boundaries are something different. They are not a retreat. They are not timid or fearful. When boundaries are put in place for solid reasons, they have usually been considered over time. They are intentional and can be explained. As difficult as the decision might be, there is a peace about it. 

But that makes sense, because peace often accompanies forgiveness and wholeness, wisdom and healing. Peace is the twine that runs through it and holds it together.