How to Embrace Elective (not Mandatory) Forgiveness After Trauma

Do I need to forgive my abusive mother to let go of the past?

This is the question I found myself grappling with when I started to recover from the pain of childhood neglect. For most of my childhood, I did not have access to a consistent adult who valued me. As a result, I believed that I had no value, and I lived my life according to this belief.

I treated myself as an invaluable being by denying my needs, catering to everyone else’s, and engaging in relationships with people who sought to benefit from my low self-worth. My physical and mental health suffered. I felt trapped in a cage that I hadn’t built as a child but had taken up residency in as an adult.

My childhood trauma had negatively impacted my life for over thirty years, and I desperately needed to discover what would help me to move forward. So many people praised forgiveness as a cure-all with moral superiority. They all encouraged  me to forgive my mother.

Was forgiveness needed to recover from trauma? I turned to experts—therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, and doctors—to find an answer. Their responses? Mixed.

One therapist told me, “If you can forgive, you should. Forgiveness is the key to healing.”

A psychologist admitted, “I’ve seen clients who forgave and those who didn’t, and honestly, I haven’t noticed a difference in outcomes.”

A doctor insisted, “Everyone needs to forgive. Holding grudges harms your mental and physical health.”

And a psychiatrist offered a more nuanced view: “It all depends on what you need. If forgiveness were a proven cure-all, we’d recommend it universally.”

The lack of consensus was frustrating. I was desperate to move forward, to let go of the past, and I needed to know—was forgiveness the answer? For the next three years, I delved into this question, interviewing clinicians, scholars, religious leaders, and trauma survivors.

Here’s what I discovered: Forgiveness is not a one-size-fits-all solution, and it’s never something you should feel pressured or obligated to do. In fact, if you are forced into forgiving, it doesn’t work at all.

The Power of Elective Forgiveness

What I learned is that forgiveness can be incredibly freeing—but only if it’s optional, not a requirement. Elective forgiveness is about giving yourself permission to decide what’s best for you. It means you can forgive, not forgive, or even find that forgiveness happens naturally over time without the intention to forgive.

For me, elective forgiveness became a way to take back control of my healing journey. I stopped worrying about whether I should forgive and instead focused on what I needed to feel safe, process my emotions, and move forward. This approach lifted the weight of mandatory forgiveness off my shoulders and allowed me to make space for whatever felt authentic in my recovery.

How to Embrace Elective Forgiveness

If you’re wondering how elective forgiveness might help you let go of the past, here are a few steps that worked for me:

1. Prioritize your safety.

For years, I didn’t feel safe having contact with my mother. To protect myself, I chose to establish boundaries, including a five-year estrangement, while we both worked on ourselves in therapy. Only when I felt safe did I consider reconnecting, and even then, forgiveness wasn’t on the table until I felt ready.

To assess your safety, ask yourself:

• Am I prioritizing my need to feel safe over the pressure to forgive?
• Do I understand that forgiveness isn’t the same as reconciliation? (You can forgive without reconciling and vice versa.)
• What boundaries do I need to feel safe, and how can I communicate them to my offender?

2. Welcome unforgiveness.

At one point, I questioned if my inability to forgive was a sign of failure. But I eventually realized that unforgiveness wasn’t a “stage” to get through—it was a valid and necessary part of my recovery.

Unforgiveness can be a place to rest, reflect, and process your emotions. It doesn’t have to lead to forgiveness—it can be the endpoint or simply part of the journey. The key is to allow yourself to be where you are without judgment.

3. Let yourself feel anger.

For a long time, I suppressed my anger because I was taught it was a “bad” emotion. But denying my anger only kept me stuck. Once I gave myself permission to feel it, my anger began to evolve into grief and, eventually, a sense of peace.

Here’s how you can work with anger:

• Write a letter to the person who hurt you, expressing your anger. (You don’t need to send it.)
• Notice where anger shows up in your body. Is it in your chest, your stomach, your fists? What happened when you notice how anger feels in your body?
• Move your body in ways that match your anger—punch a pillow, stomp your feet, or go for a run. Ask your body, “What do you want to do with this anger?”

4. Trust the process.

I’ll admit I’m annoyed when I hear therapists say, “Trust the process.” I want to trust the outcome! But recovery doesn’t work like that. Elective forgiveness isn’t about achieving a specific result—it’s about allowing yourself to explore, feel, and grow without knowing exactly where you’ll end up.

For me, trusting the process meant accepting that I might never forgive my mother, and I may also forgive her if that’s what I need. I’ve let go of my anger and found some empathy for her, but I don’t love her, and I don’t want her in my life. Is that forgiveness? Maybe, maybe not.

The more important question is: Do I need to forgive to let go of the past? For me, the answer is no. I’ve let go without forgiving. What do you need to let go of your past?

Finding What Works for You

Your healing journey is your own, and no one can tell you what you need to do. There is not one experience or method that works for everyone. Forgiveness might be part of your process—or it might not. What matters most is that you honor your needs, your boundaries, and your emotions. Letting go of the past isn’t about following someone else’s roadmap—it’s about creating your own.