Why Do We Keep Making Excuses for People Who Hurt Us? Gita’s Lesson on Self-Respect
Riya Kumari | Mar 29, 2025, 23:59 IST
You know that moment when you’re mid-rant about someone who’s done you dirty—ghosted, gaslit, or just generally proven themselves to be a human red flag factory—and you suddenly hear yourself saying, “I mean, they had a tough childhood,” or “They’re just bad at texting,” or my personal favorite, “They’re going through a lot right now”? And before you know it, you’re basically defending them against yourself.
There’s always a reason, isn’t there? “They had a rough childhood.” “They were just stressed.” “They didn’t mean it.” We tell ourselves these things because we want to believe them. We want to believe that people don’t hurt us on purpose. That deep down, they care. That if we just give them a little more time, a little more patience, a little more of ourselves, they’ll finally see our worth and treat us the way we deserve. But what if they don’t? What if they only see how much we are willing to endure? What if every excuse we make is just another way of teaching them that their actions have no consequences?
1. The Gita’s Answer: Wake Up
The Bhagavad Gita isn’t about toxic relationships. Not literally. It’s about a battlefield, a war, and a warrior who doesn’t want to fight. Arjuna, the hero, is standing between two armies, frozen by doubt. He doesn’t want to hurt his own people, even if they’re in the wrong. He doesn’t want to be cruel, even if the truth demands it. And then Krishna speaks.
He doesn’t tell Arjuna to be heartless. He doesn’t say, “Forget your emotions.” Instead, he tells him something harder: "See things as they are. Not as you wish they were." Because Arjuna’s dilemma isn’t just about war. It’s about the cost of avoiding reality. It’s about the fear of standing up for what is right when it comes at a personal cost. It’s about knowing when kindness turns into self-betrayal. Sound familiar?
2. The Difference Between Compassion and Self-Destruction
We all want to be good people. But too often, being "good" gets confused with being endlessly forgiving. We think patience is noble, even when it leaves us exhausted. We think understanding is love, even when it’s one-sided. We think walking away is selfish, even when staying hurts us.
But the Gita teaches something different: Compassion does not mean tolerating harm. Love does not mean sacrificing yourself for someone who won’t change. Forgiveness does not mean giving infinite chances to someone who has already shown you who they are. At some point, our kindness is no longer a gift—it’s an invitation. And the people who take advantage of it? They’re not confused. They know exactly what they’re doing.
3. The Hardest Realization
Here’s the truth no one likes to say out loud: People who love you will not make you beg for basic decency. They won’t make you justify why you deserve respect. They won’t act like your pain is an inconvenience. They won’t only care when they think you’re about to leave. The Gita’s wisdom isn’t about revenge or anger. It’s about clarity. About seeing people for who they are, not for who you hope they will become.
It’s about knowing that your love should be a bridge, not a cage. So ask yourself: Are you waiting for someone to change? Are you handing out excuses because the truth is too painful? Are you stuck in Arjuna’s dilemma, knowing what must be done but afraid to do it? Then listen to Krishna. Not everyone deserves access to your heart. Not everyone deserves a second chance. And sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is finally—finally—walk away.
1. The Gita’s Answer: Wake Up
Clarity
( Image credit : Pexels )
The Bhagavad Gita isn’t about toxic relationships. Not literally. It’s about a battlefield, a war, and a warrior who doesn’t want to fight. Arjuna, the hero, is standing between two armies, frozen by doubt. He doesn’t want to hurt his own people, even if they’re in the wrong. He doesn’t want to be cruel, even if the truth demands it. And then Krishna speaks.
He doesn’t tell Arjuna to be heartless. He doesn’t say, “Forget your emotions.” Instead, he tells him something harder: "See things as they are. Not as you wish they were." Because Arjuna’s dilemma isn’t just about war. It’s about the cost of avoiding reality. It’s about the fear of standing up for what is right when it comes at a personal cost. It’s about knowing when kindness turns into self-betrayal. Sound familiar?
2. The Difference Between Compassion and Self-Destruction
Cry
( Image credit : Pexels )
We all want to be good people. But too often, being "good" gets confused with being endlessly forgiving. We think patience is noble, even when it leaves us exhausted. We think understanding is love, even when it’s one-sided. We think walking away is selfish, even when staying hurts us.
But the Gita teaches something different: Compassion does not mean tolerating harm. Love does not mean sacrificing yourself for someone who won’t change. Forgiveness does not mean giving infinite chances to someone who has already shown you who they are. At some point, our kindness is no longer a gift—it’s an invitation. And the people who take advantage of it? They’re not confused. They know exactly what they’re doing.
3. The Hardest Realization
Love
( Image credit : Pexels )
Here’s the truth no one likes to say out loud: People who love you will not make you beg for basic decency. They won’t make you justify why you deserve respect. They won’t act like your pain is an inconvenience. They won’t only care when they think you’re about to leave. The Gita’s wisdom isn’t about revenge or anger. It’s about clarity. About seeing people for who they are, not for who you hope they will become.
It’s about knowing that your love should be a bridge, not a cage. So ask yourself: Are you waiting for someone to change? Are you handing out excuses because the truth is too painful? Are you stuck in Arjuna’s dilemma, knowing what must be done but afraid to do it? Then listen to Krishna. Not everyone deserves access to your heart. Not everyone deserves a second chance. And sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is finally—finally—walk away.