Latest / Shattered Not Broken / Forgiveness Doesn't Mean Reconnection: Choosing Peace Over People
Transcript
- riverside edit i forgive you, but you no longer have acce dawn mcclara's stud: Welcome back to Shattered Not Broken. Today I want to talk about something that I think just about everyone has experienced at some point in their lives disappointment. But not the kind of disappointment you feel when plans fall through or something doesn't work out the way you hoped. I'm talking about disappointment in people. People you loved. People you trusted, people you believed would always be there, people you believed in everything they said, people you thought you knew well enough to understand how deeply their words or actions might hurt you. And then one day something happens. Maybe it's something they say, maybe it's something they do, maybe it's something they don't. Do when you really needed them. And suddenly the way you see that person changes sometimes permanently. I've experienced this more times than I care to admit, and I've learned something about myself along the way. When someone hurts me deeply enough, there's a part of me that simply shuts the door. Not necessarily out of anger, not because I want revenge, not because I wish anything bad for them, but because something inside me changes. And I can't imagine ever feeling the same way about that person again. I've often described it by saying that person becomes dead to me. Now I know that sounds harsh, but what I mean is that the relationship as I knew it is over. I don't reach out. I don't initiate conversations. I don't try to repair something that I feel has been damaged beyond repair. I don't necessarily respond to their reach outs, or at least I don't in a timely manner. If I see that person out in public, I'll be cordial, I'll smile, I'll say hello. I may even have a friendly conversation. But I don't go out of my way to engage any more than that. And when we part ways, I go right back to living my life. I don't spend my days hoping something terrible happens to them. Quite the opposite. I genuinely wish them happiness, success, and a wonderful life. And I've told them this. I want nothing but the best for you. Whatever that means, however you need to get there, that's what I want for you. I just don't feel the need to be part of it anymore. And today I want to explore whether that's forgiveness, self protection, avoidance. Maybe it's a little bit of all three. Because the older I get, the more I realize that healing isn't always as simple as saying, I forgive you. Sometimes it's understanding why something hurt you so deeply in the first place. I've been thinking about why disappointment in people can hurt more than almost anything else. And I think it comes down to expectations. When we care about someone, when we believe in someone, when we believe what that person says, we develop certain expectations. We expect honesty, we expect loyalty. We expect respect. We expect people to treat us with the same kindness and consideration that we try to give them. And maybe that's where some of us get ourselves into trouble. We assume other people have the same heart we do. We assume that because we would never intentionally hurt someone in a certain way, they wouldn't do that to us. But that's not always how life seems to work out. Sometimes people disappoint us because they're selfish. Sometimes they're thoughtless. Sometimes they're dealing with their own problems and didn't realize how their behavior affects others. And sometimes people simply aren't capable of giving us the kind of relationship we thought we had. And that is a difficult realization, especially when you invested time, years into a friendship, a marriage, or even a family relationship. You don't just lose the relationship. You sometimes lose the version of that person that you believe ex believed existed. I think that's where some of the deepest pain comes from. Because you're not only grieving what happened, but you're also grieving what you thought you had. I've experienced that in marriages and in friendships and other relationships throughout my life. And I think one of the hardest things to accept is that someone can mean the world to you. And you may not. mean the same thing to them. They may say you do, but remember the old adage, actions speak louder than words. Or maybe you don't mean to them what they mean to you. And maybe it's because you thought differently. You thought you were both on the same wavelength. And you guys both had the same respect and care and concern and love for one another. And when you find out that you don't, that's a tough pill to swallow. But I've also come to understand that someone's inability to value me the way I hoped doesn't determine my value. It tells me something about the relationship. And sometimes that's information I need to accept even when I don't like it. Here's something I'd like you to think about. Have you ever been more hurt by what someone's actions revealed about your relationship than by the actual thing they did? Because I have. And sometimes, once you see something clearly, you simply can't unsee it. So let's talk about that phrase I mentioned earlier, you're dead to me. I know it sounds dramatic, and maybe to some people it sounds unforgiving. And when I've told people that there are people in my world that are dead to me, one person told me that that's unfortunate. And maybe it is. But for me it's never meant that I hated someone. It's more like an emotional door closes. I can remember the good times. I can appreciate the role that person once played in my life. I can acknowledge that they may have been important to me. But I can also recognize that the relationship has changed. And sometimes I simply don't want to reopen that door. I think people sometimes struggle with that concept because we've been taught that forgiveness means everything goes back to normal. That if you truly forgive someone, you should be willing to give them another chance. But I don't believe that's always true. You can forgive someone without trusting them again. You can forgive someone without inviting them back into your life. And you can forgive someone without pretending the relationship is what it used to be. And perhaps most importantly, You can forgive someone while acknowledging that their actions changed how you feel about them. That doesn't automatically make you bitter. It doesn't mean you're holding a grudge. Sometimes it simply means you've learned something. Now I do think there's a difference between setting a healthy boundary and shutting someone out because we're afraid of being hurt again. And that's something I've had to examine within myself. Am I closing the door because this relationship is genuinely unhealthy? Or am I closing the door because I don't know how to have the difficult conversation? Those are two very different things. And if we're going to talk about healing, we have to be willing to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions too. Because growth isn't just about recognizing what other people have done to us. It's also about recognizing how we respond. Here's where I'm going to be particularly vulnerable. I've had people tell me they feel they hurt me. And I've looked them in the eye and told them they didn't, even when they did, sometimes very deeply. Now why would I do that? Because deep down I'm a people pleaser. And because I absolutely hate conflict. I don't enjoy arguments. I don't enjoy drama. I don't enjoy uncomfortable confrontations. I don't enjoy uncomfortable conversations either. But I do know that those conversations do have to happen. I especially don't enjoy conversations where someone becomes defensive, makes excuses, or tries to turn the situation around. So what's the easiest thing to do? Smile, say no, you're fine, everything is okay, and then move on. But here's what I've started realizing. Sometimes in trying to protect someone else's feelings, I've completely dismissed my own. Think about that for a minute. Someone hurts me, they recognize or at least suspect they've hurt me. And instead of being honest, I reassure them that everything is fine. I essentially give them permission to walk away feeling better while I'm still carrying the pain. And why? Because I don't want them to feel uncomfortable? Because I don't want an argument? Because I don't want to deal with the possibility that they might deny what happened? That's something I've really been thinking about. I've spent a lot of my life trying to make sure everyone else was okay, making sure other people were happy, making sure nobody was upset, making sure relationships stayed intact. And sometimes I did that at my own expense. I think a lot of people pleasers can relate to this. We become so accustomed. to managing everyone else's emotions that we forget we're allowed to have our own. We're allowed to be disappointed. We're allowed to be hurt. We're allowed to say what you did wasn't okay. We're allowed to say you lied to me. And why did you lie to me for so long? We're allowed to say, why didn't you tell me the truth before now? And we're allowed to say those things without being cruel. angry or confrontational. In fact, I think one of the things I'm learning in this chapter of my life is that honesty doesn't have to create drama. You can be honest and still be kind. You can acknowledge pain without attacking someone. You can tell someone they hurt you without demanding that they agree with your perspective. Maybe that's what I should have done in some of those situations. Instead of saying you didn't hurt me, perhaps I should have said, actually you did hurt me very deeply. And while I don't believe you necessarily intended to, it changed how I feel about our relationship. But I forgive you and I genuinely wish you well. That's it. No argument, no debate, no lengthy explanation, just the truth. Because I'm beginning to understand that keeping the peace and having peace aren't necessarily the same thing. Sometimes keeping the peace means swallowing your feelings. Having peace means being able to acknowledge those feelings without allowing them to control your life. And there is a Big difference. Now, let's talk about something that I think has added an entirely new dimension to relationships, and that's social media. I find it fascinating how much meaning we've attached to whether someone follows us, unfriends us, deletes us, or blocks us. Years ago, when a relationship ended or friendship faded, you simply stopped calling each other. You might run into someone at the grocery store, exchange a few pleasantries, and go about your day. Today, we have Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, and all those other platforms where our lives remain visible to people we may no longer have personal relationships with. And I've watched people take things a step further. They don't just stop communicating, they delete you, they block you. They make sure they never have to see anything about your life again. Now I want to be very clear about something. I absolutely believe there are times when blocking someone is necessary. If someone is harassing you, disrespecting your boundaries, manipulating you, or continually disrupting your peace, you have every right to protect yourself. You do not owe anyone unlimited access to your life. And sometimes blocking someone is the healthiest decision you can make. But I've also seen situations where someone has hurt another person and rather than acknowledge what happened, they simply remove that person from their world. And I have to wonder how often that's about avoiding accountability. Because sometimes I think it's easier for people to eliminate reminders of their behavior than it is to face what they've done. Now I'm not saying that's always why someone blocks another person. We can't know someone's motivation simply because they click the button. But I do think there's a difference between protecting your peace and avoiding an uncomfortable truth. And I think that distinction matters. Especially when the person being blocked hasn't done anything wrong. There's also another side to this that I don't think people always consider. For many of us, social media isn't just personal, it's professional. In my real estate career, social media is one of the ways I stay connected with clients, customers, colleagues, and my community. It's how I share information, celebrate milestones, support local businesses, and stay visible in an industry built on relationships. So when people start using social media connections, As a way to make statements about personal relationships, those decisions can sometimes have a broader impact. And again, everyone has the right to decide who they want to connect with online. But I think we should ask ourselves whether we're making these decisions from a healthy place. Are we setting a boundary? Are we trying to hurt someone? Are we avoiding something? Or are we simply moving forward? Because those motivations are not the same. And here's the other thing I've learned. Just because someone removes you from their social media doesn't mean you need to respond. You don't have to retaliate. You don't have to post something cryptic. You don't have to recruit people to take sides. You don't have to prove anything. Sometimes the most peaceful response is no response at all. Let people make their choices and continue living your life. This brings me to what I really wanted to talk about today, forgiveness. I've always believed that sometimes you forgive people for yourself, not for them. But I think I'm only now beginning to fully understand what that means. For years I thought forgiving someone meant moving past what happened, not talking about it, not dwelling on it, just accepting it and continuing forward. And in some ways that worked. But I started questioning whether I was actually forgiving people or simply avoiding the emotions associated with what happened. Because there's a difference. You can stop talking to someone and still be angry. You can say you wish someone well and still feel hurt every time you think about them. You can tell yourself you've moved on while continuing to carry disappointment that you never really acknowledged. And I don't think that's unusual. I think that's human. But here's what I'm learning. Forgiveness doesn't mean what happened was okay. It doesn't mean the other person deserves another chance. It doesn't mean you have to understand why they did what they did. It doesn't even mean they have to apologize. Forgiveness, at least the way I'm coming to understand it. is making a decision that I'm no longer going to allow what happened to take up space in my life that it doesn't deserve. I'm not going to spend years replaying conversations. I'm not going to keep wondering what I could have done differently. I'm not going to keep trying to understand why someone treated me in a way I would have never treated them. And I'm certainly not going to let their actions determine how I feel about myself. Because when I do those things, I'm still allowing that person to influence my life, even if we haven't spoken in years. And I don't want that hurt anymore. I want peace, real peace. Not the kind where I pretend something didn't happen, the kind where I can acknowledge that it did happen, recognize that it hurt, and still choose to move forward. I think that's what forgiveness looks like for me now. Not necessarily reconciliation, not necessarily a renewed friendship, not necessarily another opportunity for someone to hurt me. Just freedom. Freedom from carrying something that I cannot change. And freedom from believing that I need someone else's apology before I can heal. There's something else I think we need to normalize. You can forgive someone and still feel disappointed in them. You can forgive someone and still miss the relationship you once had. You can forgive someone and still occasionally feel sad about how things ended. Forgiveness doesn't erase memories, it doesn't magically restore trust, and it doesn't mean that every emotion disappears overnight. I think sometimes we put too much pressure on ourselves to reach this place where nothing bothers us anymore. where we can look back at painful experiences and feel absolutely nothing. But is that really the goal? I don't think so. I think the goal is to reach a place where those experiences no longer control us. Where we can remember something without reliving it, where we can talk about someone without feeling consumed by anger, where we can genuinely hope that person has a good life. without feeling obligated to participate in it. And where we can accept that some relationships were meant to be part of our story, but not necessarily part of our future. That's a difficult lesson. Especially for someone like me who has spent so much of her life trying to make relationships work, trying to understand people, trying to give second chances, trying to be the bigger person. Trying to prove that I was worthy of being loved, respected, and appreciated. But I've reached a point in my life where I no longer want to convince people to value me. I don't want to chase relationships. I don't want to constantly question where I stand with someone. And I don't want to feel like maintaining a relationship requires me to continually overlook things that hurt me. That doesn't mean I expect perfection. Goodness knows I am not perfect. I've made mistakes. I've disappointed people. I've said things I wish I could take back. And I hope that when I do those things I have the courage to acknowledge them. I know I have apologized for those things to people, but I want to continue to be able to do that if I make those mistakes, if I say things, or if I've disappointed someone. Because that's another part of the conversation. We can't expect accountability from others. We're unwilling to practice it ourselves. Sometimes we're going to be the person who disappoints someone. And when that happens, I hope we can listen without immediately becoming defensive. I hope we can apologize without making excuses. And I hope we can respect someone's decision to distance themselves, even if that's not what we want because forgiveness and accountability really do go hand in hand. Not because one is required for the other, but because both are part of becoming healthier people. So I've been asking myself a question lately. What would my relationships look like if I had been more honest about my feelings over the years, not confrontational, not argumentative, just honest? What if instead of telling someone they hadn't hurt me, I had had acknowledged that they did? Would it have changed anything? Maybe, maybe not. Some people might have apologized, some people might have become defensive, some might have dismissed my feelings, and some relationships probably would have ended anyway. Here's what would have been different. I would have been honoring my own feelings. I would have been giving for myself permission to acknowledge that something mattered to me. And I would have been allowing the other person an opportunity to take responsibility. That's something I've denied people at times, not intentionally, but by pretending I wasn't hurt. I never gave them the opportunity to understand how their actions affected me. Now that doesn't mean everyone deserves a conversation. There are situations where someone has repeatedly demonstrated that. They're unwilling to listen, take responsibility, or respect boundaries. And in those situations, walking away may be the healthiest choice. But I think there are other times when we shut down communication because we're afraid of what might happen if we're honest. And that's where I want to continue growing. I don't want to become someone who constantly confronts people. That's not who I am. I love a peaceful life. I love being able to wake up in the morning without drama. I love surrounding myself with people who bring happiness, laughter, encouragement, and positivity into my world. But I also don't want my desire for peace to become an excuse for avoiding difficult conversations that might actually be healthy. Because sometimes the conversation we're avoiding is the very conversation that could bring us peace. Even If it doesn't save the relationship. One of the things I've talked about throughout this podcast is how much my life has changed. I've gone through experiences I never imagined I'd go through. I've had to rebuild parts of my life. I've had to rediscover who I am outside of relationships, and I've had to learn how to be comfortable with the person I see in the mirror. That's been a journey and I'm still on it. But one of the beautiful things about this chapter of my life. Is that I'm beginning to understand how much freedom comes from letting go, letting go of expectations, letting go of the need to be understood by everyone, letting go of relationships that no longer feel healthy, letting go of the idea that I have to fix everything. And perhaps most importantly, letting go of the belief that someone else's behavior is somehow a reflection of my work. I can be a good person and still be treated poorly. I can love someone and still need to walk away. I can be kind and still have boundaries. I can forgive someone and still decide that the relationship is over. And I can wish someone happiness without feeling responsible for making them happy. That's a big one for me. Because for so much of my life, I felt responsible for other people's happiness. If someone was upset, I wanted to fix it. If someone was struggling, I wanted to help. If a relationship was falling apart, I wanted to save it. And sometimes I gave so much of myself trying to keep everyone else happy that I forgot to ask whether I was happy. I don't want to live that way anymore. I want relationships that are mutual. Relationships where both people put in the effort. Relationships where we can disagree. without disrespecting each other. Relationships where honesty doesn't automatically lead to conflict. And relationships where I don't have to question whether I'm valued. That doesn't mean life will be perfect. It means I'm finally becoming more intentional about who and what I allow into my life. And I think that's one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves as we get older, the permission to choose peace. Before I wrap up today's episode, I want to leave you with a few questions. And I want you to really think about them. Is there someone in your life who disappointed you so deeply that you've never looked at them the same way again? Have you forgiven that person? Or have you simply stopped communicating with them? Are you still carrying anger, resentment, or sadness about what happened? Have you ever told someone they didn't hurt you? When in reality, they hurt you more than they could possibly imagine. And here's one that I'm asking myself. Have you confused avoiding conflict with protecting your peace? Because I know I have. And maybe the most important question of all is this: what would happen if you gave yourself permission to acknowledge the hurt without feeling obligated to repair the relationship? What if you could simply say, yes, you hurt me? Yes, it changed things. Yes, I forgive you. And no, that doesn't mean we have to go back to the way things were. There's something, something incredibly fraying about that. You don't need to convince someone that they hurt you. You don't need them to agree with your feelings. And you don't need their permission to move forward. You simply need to decide. what you're willing to carry into the next chapter of your life and what you're ready to leave behind. As I close today's episode, I want to share something that I wish I'd understood a long time ago. Not every relationship is meant to last forever. Some people come into our lives for a season, some stay for decades, some teach us beautiful lessons about love, friendship, loyalty and connection. And others teach us lessons about boundaries, disappointment, and self-respect. That doesn't mean every relationship that ends was a failure. Sometimes it simply means the relationship has served its purpose. And sometimes the healthiest thing we can do is acknowledge what it meant to us, appreciate what was good, accept what wasn't, and move forward. I don't want to spend the rest of my life being angry. with people who disappointed me. I don't want to wish them anything but happiness. But I also don't want to pretend their actions didn't matter because they did. Some of those experiences changed me. Some made me question myself. Some made me question my judgment. And some forced me to recognize patterns in my life that I needed to change. But they also helped me grow. They helped me understand what I want from relationships. They help me recognize what I'm no longer willing to accept. And they help me appreciate the people in my life who consistently show up, tell the truth, respect my boundaries, and genuinely care about me. So here's where I am today. If you've hurt me deeply, I may never feel the same way about you again. And that's okay. I can forgive you. I can wish you well. I can smile when I see you. I can celebrate your successes from a distance. That I don't have to invite you back into my life. And I don't have to feel guilty about that decision. At the same time, I'm learning that I don't have to pretend you didn't hurt me just to make you feel better. My feelings deserve acknowledgement too. And perhaps that's the biggest lesson of all. I can be a kind person without being a people pleaser. I can be forgiving without being available, and I can choose peace without pretending the pain never existed. I can let go of someone without wishing them anything but the very best, because at the end of the day, forgiveness isn't about giving someone else a free pass. It's about giving myself permission to move forward. And that's exactly what I intend to do. Thank you for spending this time with me today on Shattered Not Broken. If something we talked about today or any of the episodes has resonated with you, I'd love for you to share this episode with someone who might need to hear it. And remember, just because something or someone has left you feeling shattered, it doesn't mean you're broken. Sometimes those experiences are exactly what help us discover the strength, wisdom, and peace. we didn't know we had. Until next time, take care of yourself, give yourself grace, and remember that you deserve relationships that bring as much peace into your life as you bring into theirs. You for can forgive someone, wish them well, and still choose yourself. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Thank you again. This is shattered, not broken.