Forgiveness is a fraught topic.

The Online Etymological Dictionary entry for “forgive” suggests its origin is as follows:

Old English forgiefan “give, grant, allow; remit (a debt), pardon (an offense),” also “give up” and “give in marriage” (past tense forgeaf, past participle forgifen); from for-, here probably “completely,” + giefan “to give” (from PIE root *ghabh- “to give or receive”).

“Completely given” makes sense when one is forgiving a debt.

“Just consider it a gift,” we say with a wave of our hand. “What is an old lawnmower between friends? You don’t owe me a thing.”

How in the world did that simple concept morph into the idea that we ought to pretend someone hasn’t harmed us?

I have three questions around the idea of personal forgiveness. First, what has been taken from the wronged party? Then, based on the answer, what is owed? Finally, can either party afford to cover the debt?

If I have a bakery and a man steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving children, I can forgive that. He can have the bread. In fact, here’s some more bread and a pie. Is there any other way I can help?

Bread has been taken, bread or its equivalent value is owed. I can afford that cost, and he cannot.

If I have a food truck and a man steals my truck, that’s a harder thing. I probably can’t afford to lose my livelihood, or to replace the truck. If he brings it back undamaged I might be able to forgive the episode, but if all my food is ruined I’m going to want him to pay for more. He owes me that, and forgiving that debt may cost more than I am willing to offer.

What if something less tangible is taken from me? Suppose someone injured me and I lost my eyesight? Or a monster took my innocence, my trust, my childhood?

These things cannot be valued, however much civil courts may assign dollar amounts to trauma. They also cannot be replaced, no matter how high those dollar amounts may be.

The perpetrator cannot afford what is owed in these cases, because what is lost cannot in any sense be repaid. Neither can the victim afford to “cover” the damages themselves and pretend nothing happened.

Forgiveness, therefore, comes from a place of magnanimous power and is by definition owed to no one.

The other side of the story, of course, is that life is messy and humans screw up. A flippant taunt can strip someone of their self-confidence. Damages are inflicted unknowingly and unintentionally, sometimes by complete strangers.

In keeping my own accounts, I know I can never repay all the harm I have caused in the world. I do what I can when I am aware of the damage, but not being omniscient and omnipotent really limits that scope.

I’ve also realized over the years that keeping the books open on what others owe me often weighs heavier on me than it does on them.

Sometimes forgiveness looks like moving past an offense. But sometimes it looks like writing something off as a loss and walking away from a person who habitually racks up debt they have no intention of repaying.

When and how and if you choose to forgive is up to you. No one else can weigh the value of what you have lost.

But the social contract goes both ways. Never forget that you also are not owed forgiveness.