As a counselor, I’ve spent years sitting with people in their pain. I’ve seen what shame does to a person. I’ve watched how resentment carves deep lines in the soul. And I’ve also witnessed—often quietly, sometimes in bursts—the miracle that happens when someone chooses to let go.
Letting go is not forgetting. It’s not dismissing or denying what happened. It’s not pretending it didn’t hurt. Letting go is an act of reclamation. It’s saying: I will not carry this any longer. I will not let it define me, or own me.
Forgiveness is part of this process. And it’s not always easy—especially when we’ve been betrayed, or abandoned, or harmed. But forgiveness is less about the other person and more about setting ourselves free. When we forgive, we make a conscious decision to loosen the grip of pain, anger, and bitterness so we can breathe again.
We have to do this. For ourselves. For each other. For the possibility of a world not dominated by cycles of harm.
Seeing the Other
To forgive others, we must begin to see them as more than what they’ve done. We have to look deeper—to the fears, the wounds, the generational patterns, the misunderstandings that shaped their behavior. That doesn’t mean we excuse cruelty or look away from justice. But when we see that all behavior has roots, we start to shift from condemnation to compassion.
As Alfred Adler, the great psychologist, said: “Behavior is a choice.” And that includes us. We can choose to act from fear, from pain, from the desire to control—or we can choose to act from love. From empathy. From the longing to understand.
We all carry the capacity for both good and evil within us. We all have hurt people. We all have been hurt. That’s the truth of being human.
But here's the miracle: we can choose good. Every day. Every moment. Every breath.
Forgiving Ourselves: Are We Not Worthy of Something Good?
Perhaps the hardest forgiveness of all is the one we owe to ourselves.
We hold on to shame like armor. We replay our mistakes. We punish ourselves long after the lesson has been learned. But if we want to be whole, if we want to live fully, we have to be willing to love ourselves—flaws, scars, and all.
We have to ask ourselves: Aren’t we worthy of something good?
If we let go of self-punishment, if we loosen our grip on the belief that we must suffer in order to be redeemed—then something incredible happens. We open ourselves up to receiving goodness. Peace can enter. Joy can return. Love becomes possible again—not just for others, but for ourselves.
Sometimes we’re attached to our suffering. It becomes familiar. It becomes identity. We believe that by holding on to guilt or pain, we’re staying “responsible” or “humble” or “safe.” But that isn’t healing. That’s a cage.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean you approve of what you did. It means you recognize you are more than your worst moment. It means you believe you are capable of change—and worthy of grace.
In my work, I’ve seen how powerful this can be. When someone finally forgives themselves, there is often a softness, a quiet strength that returns to their face. They begin to live from a place of possibility, not punishment.
The Art of Letting Go
Art has taught me this, too. Sometimes we have to let go of the image we were trying to create so the real beauty can emerge. Sometimes we have to paint over something, not out of shame, but to start again. Sometimes, the mess is the masterpiece.
Letting go is creative. It’s a process of transformation. And like any good work of art, it takes time, patience, and a willingness to stay with the discomfort until something new emerges.
So if you’re holding on—if your heart is heavy with what was or what could’ve been—I invite you to lay it down.
Start small. Breathe. Write. Draw. Cry. Pray. Speak. Dance. Forgive.
Let go.
Choose love again.
Because I believe we can. And I believe we must.