Notes on Forgiveness and Reconciliation

I haven’t spoken to my father in seven years. The last time I saw him was at my cousin’s funeral. I cried harder over seeing him than the death of my cousin.  

To clarify, I was devastated about my cousin, but confronting someone who harmed me drastically when I wasn’t ready to was much more challenging.  

Growing up, I remember one of my favorite things about my father was the scent of his cologne. It was a consistent presence in my life, never changing, no matter what else did. He’d put it on in the morning and still smell the same when he got home from work.  

When he hugged me against my will at my cousin’s funeral, he smelled awful. The scent I had grown up loving was nowhere to be found, and instead, it was replaced with the smell of cheap cigarettes.  

I’ve often heard that forgiving other people is an act of kindness you do for yourself; holding on to anger only hurts you. I don’t think it’s that simple though. While forgiveness is the act of letting go of resentment and anger, I think that it can often be viewed as synonymous with reconciliation.  

In my experience, people often expect reconciliation after forgiveness. That’s why “forgive and forget” is a staple of conflict resolution. Some things don’t deserve to be forgotten, and this concept feels like a scapegoat for accountability.  

National Reconciliation Day is on Apr. 2, and learning about it has brought all this to the surface. While it may have good intentions, it makes me feel like I’m supposed to do something that may not be beneficial to me.  

Ever since I stopped speaking to my father, I’ve had people – usually older adults – ask me if I forgive him for the trauma he’s instilled in me. These same people also tell me that I may want a relationship with him one day.  

There’s a slim chance of that ever happening, and I’m confident in my decision to maintain no contact. If I choose to change this, it will be because it’s something I’ve decided on my own is good for me, not because external opinions told me I should.  

I don’t believe my father deserves to be pardoned for his atrocious actions. To me, forgiving him feels like granting him that pardon. I’ve done years of introspective work to move past the pain that he’s caused me, and now I tend to hardly ever think about him.  

Forgiving someone doesn’t make you the bigger person, just like choosing not to forgive doesn’t make you inferior. It’s my belief that if you choose to forgive, you do it for yourself, not the other person. Forgiveness can only be completed on your own timeline

• family
• forgiveness
• Reconciliation
• relationships