Op-ed: Borka Schuster
For a long time, I believed that the final destination of emotional growth was forgiveness. That the moment we let go of every old wound and absolve everyone who ever caused us pain, we finally heal.
That's the message I heard everywhere. If you really want to move past something, forgive. If you want peace, forgive. If you want to let go of the past, forgive.
And I tried.
I tried to be understanding. I put myself in the other person's shoes, searched for reasons why they hurt me, why they acted the way they did. For years I assumed that if I was still angry at someone, I must be the one doing something wrong.
Then one day it hit me: there was another option.
I don't have to forgive everyone. And that doesn't make me a worse person.
There have been people in my life who hurt me deeply. Not misunderstandings, not clumsy words that came out wrong — but deliberate choices that were never followed by any accountability or honest remorse.
For a long time I waited for an apology. I thought it would finally let me close the whole chapter. It never came. And it probably never will.
That used to bother me a lot. These days, it matters far less.
Because somewhere along the way I understood something: my ability to move forward can't depend on whether someone else eventually admits their own mistakes.
If I keep waiting for that, I'm essentially still handing them the control. As if I'm saying: my healing depends on your next move.
But it doesn't.
I think we often confuse forgiveness with moving on, when the two aren't the same thing at all. Forgiveness means dissolving the anger we feel toward someone. Moving on means refusing to let what happened keep shaping our lives.
Sometimes they go hand in hand — but not always
Today I believe there are situations where I simply don't want to forgive.
Not because I want revenge, and not because I want to nurse a grudge. But because my anger feels justified. There are things where forgiving would feel like betraying the earlier version of me — the one who got hurt.
I no longer believe every wound should be healed with the same sentence. Sometimes the truth is that someone genuinely treated us badly, and we don't have to let them off the hook for it.
And I think that's okay too.
If you're learning to protect your own peace, you might also recognize the quiet signs it's time to set firmer boundaries with the people who keep draining you.
What isn't okay is getting stuck in that anger. Because then the person who hurt us won't be the one causing the most damage anymore — the wound itself will.
If we replay the same scenes in our heads year after year, if we relive the same fury every single day, we're still handing over a piece of our lives to the very person who already took something important from us.
Maybe my pain was justified. Maybe my anger was too. But now I want it to stop taking up so much space in my life.
For me, moving on isn't about the other person. It's about me.
It's about not wanting to build my present around an old story. About choosing to spend my energy on people who build me up, not on the ones who already tore me down.
Because in the end, this is the difference that matters most: forgiveness can be a gift to the other person. Moving on is a gift to yourself.
Is it wrong to not forgive someone who hurt you?
Not necessarily. Sometimes anger is justified, and choosing not to forgive doesn't make you a worse person. What matters is that you don't stay trapped in that anger forever.
What's the difference between forgiveness and moving on?
Forgiveness means dissolving the anger you feel toward someone. Moving on means refusing to let what happened keep controlling your life. The two can overlap, but they aren't the same thing.
Do I need an apology before I can heal?
No. Waiting for an apology hands the other person control over your healing. You can move forward whether or not they ever admit their mistakes.
How do I know if I'm stuck in my anger?
If you keep replaying the same painful scenes and reliving the same fury day after day, the wound is still shaping your life. That's a sign it may be taking up more space than you want to give it.
