Why We Can’t Forgive People

Everyone Talks About Forgiving but How to Do So?

Everyone talks about forgiving, but no one actually explain how.

Imagine this: Your closest friend, the one you trusted with your deepest secrets, casually mentions something you told them in confidence to a group of mutual friends. The betrayal stings. Weeks later, while they’re acting like nothing happened, you’re still simmering. Forgiveness feels not just difficult—it feels impossible.

We’ve all heard the line: “Forgive and move on.” Sounds easy. But it’s not. Forgiveness is one of those ideas that gets tossed around, but no one teaches you how to actually do it. Especially when the wound is still open. Or the person is still around, still affecting your life.

Let’s get into why our minds resist it, why it’s harder when the pain is ongoing, and how to start letting go—even when forgiveness feels out of reach.

Why we can't forgive them

Forgiveness clashes with something deep in us. When someone wrongs us, it shakes our sense of safety. Our brains, built for survival, scramble to regain control. But we can’t undo the past. So we hold onto resentment. It gives us something to do—like we’re standing our ground, even if just in our heads.

Suppose a coworker takes credit for your idea. You can’t change what happened, so you keep replaying it. That loop in your mind? It feels useful. It’s your brain’s way of saying, “I’m not letting this slide.” Forgiveness, by contrast, feels like giving up.

But here’s the catch—resentment doesn’t solve anything. It keeps us stuck in that loop. We’re not hurting them. We’re just wearing ourselves out. And yet we hold on, because that anger gives us a sense of motion, even if it’s just spinning our wheels.

We can't forgive when our survival depends on them

It’s even harder when the person still impacts your life. If they still control your finances, emotions, or sense of security, letting go feels risky. Your brain flags it as a threat—and resentment kicks in like a defense mechanism.

Take this example: Your boss fires you unfairly. Now you're broke and scrambling. Each job rejection, each bill, brings it all back. Forgiving them feels impossible—because you’re still feeling the consequences.

But let’s say things change. You get a better job. Money stress fades. That boss? They lose their grip on your mental space. You didn’t forgive them. You just stopped caring about that. When their actions stop affecting your life, forgiveness becomes a lot easier.

We need better rewards to forget old rewards

So how do we move on, even when it still hurts?

You don’t need to force forgiveness. You just need something better to focus on—something that gives you more energy, more meaning, more control.

Say you’ve got parents who’ve always been critical. Then one day, they’re diagnosed with a terminal illness. Suddenly, your focus shifts. You stop replaying old fights. Not because you’ve erased the past, but because the present needs your attention.

Same principle applies in smaller situations. A friend ditches you for a better offer. It stings—until you pick up photography and start spending weekends capturing city life. You’re too engaged in something new to keep caring as much about the old betrayal.

The goal isn’t to excuse what happened. It’s to stop renting your mind to someone else’s actions. When something better fills your time and attention, the past starts to shrink.

Conclusion

Forgiveness feels impossible when we’re stuck.

But peace doesn’t always come from forgiveness itself. Sometimes it shows up when you find something else to care about—something that restores your sense of direction.

Next time resentment creeps in, ask: What’s one thing I can do right now that gives me even a little sense of forward motion?

It could be a walk, a side project, or just setting a boundary that wasn’t there before.

Whatever it is, it’s a shift.

And once you start focusing on what’s ahead, you might notice that forgiveness sneaks in—not as a goal, but as a side effect.