Learning to receive well with the words \"I forgive you\"

I forgive you.

Three short and simple words. Yet for me, they are so very difficult to say …. especially if I have to look the person in the eye.

Let me go back to the beginning and give you some context.

I was wronged last week.

I won’t go into the details because there’s no need to; but in short, there was a misunderstanding due to miscommunication. I asked a few questions so I could understand what was happening, but my attempts to clarify things was met with hostility. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself on the receiving end of some verbal – and what for me felt like emotional – abuse.

I was hurt. Really hurt.

I had done absolutely nothing to deserve that reaction, but I did not want things to escalate. So I chose to do the only thing I could in the moment: I turned around and walked away.

Not long after, a fellow acquaintance stepped into the situation as a mediator and spoke to both of us separately. This acquaintance later told me that the other party was sorry for reacting emotionally and that I would be receiving an apology.

Interestingly, THIS is when I felt stretched.

It wasn’t the misunderstanding that made me uneasy.

It wasn’t even the argument or the verbal/emotional abuse itself. It had happened so quickly that I barely had time to process it.

It was the idea of receiving an apology that made me uneasy …. which, when I stopped to think about it, felt a little ‘off’.

But the more I sat with it, the more it made sense.

Growing up, I was never taught how to receive well. All my life, I have grown up around a kind of ‘politeness’ that was built on refusing gifts, brushing things off, or deflecting any kind of kindness:

"Your presence is enough." (when someone expresses a desire to bring a gift).

"No, no, you don’t have to." (when someone asks what we would like as a gift).

"I don’t want to trouble you." (when someone offers to help).

It wasn’t out of a genuine refusal or lack of need, but rather from a certain embarrassment and pride. A desire to not inconvenience others. To not make a fuss. To not draw attention to any of my needs. And most importantly, a desire to be independent; to assert that I do not need your or anyone’s help. That I am quite capable looking after myself.

It was pride. Ugly, disgusting pride; disguised as politeness.

So somewhere along the way, I learnt to deflect.

Gifts? Refuse them with a laugh.
Compliments? Brush them off. In fact, return the compliment to the giver.
Help? Decline it profusely.

It’s the same with apologies. I tend to close them down as quickly as possible.

“It’s okay.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Let’s just move on.”

… Even when it’s not okay.
…. Even when something in me still feels unsettled.
…. Even when a part of me genuinely wants the offered apology.

Because receiving, was …. uncomfortable.

It requires me to pause. To be seen. To admit, even quietly, yes, I needed that.

And that takes a kind of vulnerability I’ve been taught to avoid.

So when I heard an apology was coming, I had to fight against my usual default mechanism.

Because I realized that if I did that, if I brushed it off as the old me would have, I wouldn’t actually be receiving anything at all.

And to not receive it with gratitude would be an insult to the person offering the apology.

So I decided that it’s okay to be uncomfortable. To receive with gratitude. To receive eagerly, even.

It took me some preparation and practice. I had to rehearse saying the words over and over in my mind.

When the moment finally came, it was a little awkward. I had to bite my tongue because my instant reaction was say “it’s okay”.

But I paused. I let the discomfort sit there, instead of rushing to smooth it over. I listened. I allowed the person’s words to land, without interrupting, without dismissing, without trying to tidy it all up too quickly.

And then, looking them in the eye, heart thumping, I said the three words I had rehearsed so many times, “I forgive you.”

Not as a reflex. Not as a way to escape the moment. But as a response that had actually made space for what was being offered.

I had already forgiven, that was never in question.

But to receive the apology, and receive it well, and to offer forgiveness in return, was the catalyst that healed my heart.

I’m slowly starting to understand is that receiving well – whether it’s a gift, a compliment, help, or an apology – is not passive.

It’s deeply intentional.

It means I don’t diminish what’s being given. I don’t pretend I didn’t need it. Instead, I honor, cherish, and value the gift.

Because when someone offers something genuine, it usually costs them something. Their money. Their time. Their energy. Their comfort. Or their pride.

To brush that off isn’t humility or politeness.

It’s cowardly.

Receiving, on the other hand, requires courage.

The courage to stay present in a moment that feels a little exposed. The courage to acknowledge, that matters to me. The courage to let something good come toward me without pushing it away.

And I guess that’s the part I’m learning and growing in right now.

That there is strength not just in offering .… but also in receiving.

This past week, I received well. And somewhere in that simple, quiet act …. something in me softened too.

My question and invitation to you:

Think back to the last time you were offered or gifted something. Did you receive it well?

If this is something you’re working on in your life, what are some things you can do to prepare your heart and mind to receive?

I would love to hear your receiving stories. If you have any that you would like to share, do send me message.

With love and blessings,

Being xxx