Forgiveness Isn’t for Them, It’s for You - Gita on Forgiving Without Trusting Again
Riya Kumari | May 28, 2025, 00:00 IST
Let’s get one thing straight: forgiving someone does not mean you have to be the president of their fan club again. You don’t have to like them, trust them, or even pretend you’d save them from a zombie apocalypse. The idea that forgiveness equals reconciliation? Yeah, that’s a scam—right up there with detox teas and “I’ve changed” texts.
We live in a world that often confuses forgiveness with permission—permission to hurt us again, to stay in our lives as if nothing ever happened. But forgiveness is not a favor you do for someone else. It’s not about them. It’s about freeing yourself from the weight you’ve been carrying. The Bhagavad Gita, written thousands of years ago, offers a quiet but powerful insight: forgiveness is a practice of the self, an act of inner liberation. It doesn’t mean you erase the past or blindly trust again. It means you decide to no longer let pain rule your present. This is a lesson worth holding close.
Forgiveness Is an Act of Self-Respect, Not Weakness
When someone wrongs us, the natural response is to hold on—to anger, resentment, suspicion. It feels safer to keep that guard up because trusting again feels risky, even foolish. But the Gita reminds us that clinging to bitterness only binds us more tightly to suffering. Krishna tells Arjuna: “Those who are free from malice toward all beings, friendly and compassionate, are dear to Me.” (Gita 12.13)
This is not about being naive or pretending the harm never happened. It is about reclaiming your peace by choosing not to be chained to anger. Forgiveness is a choice to untangle yourself from the bitterness that poisons your own mind and heart. It is strength, not weakness. It is a boundary, not a welcome mat.
Detachment: Forgiving Without Forgetting, Loving Without Trusting
The Gita speaks deeply about detachment—not as coldness, but as clarity. You forgive, but you do not forget. You recognize the harm done, and you allow it to exist in your memory without letting it define your present. “Perform your duty without attachment to the fruits of your actions.”
(Gita 2.47) In practice, this means doing what is right for you—letting go of grudges and pain—without expecting anything from the person who caused it. Forgiveness doesn’t demand reconciliation or renewed trust. You are not obligated to rebuild a bridge with someone who has burned it. Forgiveness is the release of the burden, not the invitation to cross the chasm again.
Boundaries Are Sacred, Not Sinful
Forgiveness can coexist with boundaries. In fact, it must. The Gita shows us that righteous living involves knowing when to engage and when to withdraw. Arjuna was urged to fight when necessary, not out of anger, but from duty and discernment.
Similarly, forgiving someone who hurt you doesn’t mean you have to let them back into your life. You can forgive and still say, “No, this is where I stop.” This boundary is not a failure of forgiveness. It is its very foundation. Protecting your heart is not selfish—it is sacred.
Closure Comes From Within
We often wait for apologies or acknowledgments to heal. But the Gita teaches us that true closure is self-generated. It comes from within, through acceptance and understanding of your own role in healing. “Let a man lift himself by his own self; let him not degrade himself.” (Gita 6.5)
Forgiveness is the work of lifting yourself above pain, beyond needing external validation. It is the quiet strength of saying, “I choose peace, with or without you.” This kind of closure is not dependent on others. It is the truest kind.
Forgiveness as Liberation
The Bhagavad Gita offers a timeless lesson: forgiveness is for your own freedom, not theirs. It does not require trust, nor does it demand forgetting or reconciliation. It simply asks you to release what weighs you down, to honor your own peace, and to live with open eyes and a guarded heart.
When you forgive in this way, you are not surrendering. You are standing tall. You are choosing your well-being over bitterness. And that choice—quiet, steady, unshakable—is the greatest act of love you can give yourself.
Forgiveness Is an Act of Self-Respect, Not Weakness
This is not about being naive or pretending the harm never happened. It is about reclaiming your peace by choosing not to be chained to anger. Forgiveness is a choice to untangle yourself from the bitterness that poisons your own mind and heart. It is strength, not weakness. It is a boundary, not a welcome mat.
Detachment: Forgiving Without Forgetting, Loving Without Trusting
(Gita 2.47) In practice, this means doing what is right for you—letting go of grudges and pain—without expecting anything from the person who caused it. Forgiveness doesn’t demand reconciliation or renewed trust. You are not obligated to rebuild a bridge with someone who has burned it. Forgiveness is the release of the burden, not the invitation to cross the chasm again.
Boundaries Are Sacred, Not Sinful
Similarly, forgiving someone who hurt you doesn’t mean you have to let them back into your life. You can forgive and still say, “No, this is where I stop.” This boundary is not a failure of forgiveness. It is its very foundation. Protecting your heart is not selfish—it is sacred.
Closure Comes From Within
Forgiveness is the work of lifting yourself above pain, beyond needing external validation. It is the quiet strength of saying, “I choose peace, with or without you.” This kind of closure is not dependent on others. It is the truest kind.
Forgiveness as Liberation
When you forgive in this way, you are not surrendering. You are standing tall. You are choosing your well-being over bitterness. And that choice—quiet, steady, unshakable—is the greatest act of love you can give yourself.