Ann wrote:
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To me, there is still somethong about how forgiveness seems to shift the responsibility for what happened from the perpetrator to the victim. If the victim forgives the perpetrator, then the perpetrator doesn't truly have to be sorry for what he or she did. The perpetrator can just let go of the whole thing. And if his or her transgression is brought up again, then that is the victim's fault.
I've not yet read Carol's "Recognition" trilogy, although it is on my to-read list, so I don't know how she handles the situation you've described. But I do know that you have not described forgiveness, Ann. The responsibility of the wrong remains with the person who did the wrong. The responsibility of making things right remains with the person who did the wrong, assuming the wrong can be righted. Never does the person doing the forgiving become responsible for anything except releasing his or her responsibility for correcting the wrong.

Forgiveness is not a method for shifting blame. It's not a way to escape justice. And it's not a "get out of emotional jail free" card, either. As our favorite couple stand in this story, Clark must work to regain Lois's trust. That's not only reasonable, that's what I would expect Lois, as a mature and self-assured adult, to require of him. If he assumes everything's just peachy now that he's apologized and asked forgiveness, then he's got another assumption coming. And if he pulls something like this again, it means he hasn't really accepted that what he did was wrong. A person who asks forgiveness must also acknowledge that his or her actions were the actions which created the hurt in the first place.

But Lois, if she has truly forgiven Clark, must release her emotional bond on that hurt. Her feelings of betrayal are perfectly legitimate, her belief that Clark should have trusted her is completely justified, and her caution at diving into marriage with him indicates a healthy person, not a needy or frightened one. But she can't keep holding Clark's offense over his head like the sword of Damocles. She can't use it as a lever to keep him at a disadvantage. She doesn't have to forget what happened, but she does have to stop holding onto it. If she doesn't, she'll never be able to fully trust him, and without trust, how could she truly love him?


Life isn't a support system for writing. It's the other way around.

- Stephen King, from On Writing