Yom Kippur is all about forgiveness—a time to reflect on our mistakes and seek to mend both our relationships with others and with ourselves. Forgiveness has two distinct sides: asking for forgiveness when we’ve wronged someone, and the act of forgiving others when they’ve wronged us.
Which do you think is easier? Which one is easier for you?
For me, both have been incredibly challenging.
Let’s start with asking for forgiveness. It requires vulnerability, humility, and the courage to confront our own flaws and mistakes. When I was younger, this was particularly difficult for me, and there were several reasons why:
1. Ego and Pride: Admitting that I was wrong or that I hurt someone felt like an attack on my self-image. I was so closely identified with my ego that apologizing felt like exposing a weakness. I hadn’t yet learned to detach from my ego and recognize that my true essence—my soul—is loving and kind. My ego made me feel vulnerable and threatened when it came to asking for forgiveness.
2. Guilt and Shame: There’s a fine line between guilt and shame. Guilt, at times, motivated me to seek forgiveness, but shame did the opposite. It made me feel unworthy of it. I was too embarrassed to bring up my mistakes. Yet, as I later learned, these emotions stem from the ego. The soul, in its pure essence, does not engage in shame or guilt.
3. Fear of Rejection: This fear still lingers today. The idea that someone close to me might not forgive me, might stop loving me, or grow tired of me can feel paralyzing. The fear of rejection often feels like a second wave of pain, amplifying the original hurt.
4. Denial or Justification: One of the hardest things to overcome has been the tendency to rationalize my actions to avoid facing the fact that I’ve hurt someone. If I’m in denial or convinced that I was justified, asking for forgiveness can feel unnecessary, as if I’m defending a part of myself I’m not ready to question.
All these obstacles are rooted in the ego. When we connect with our spiritual essence—our soul—none of these reasons hold power. Our soul knows that we are beings of love, compassion, and understanding. We’re here to make mistakes, to evolve, to transcend. Admitting our wrongdoings and apologizing is part of our journey, knowing that we are still safe, loved, and held. Vulnerability and humility are our true essence, not signs of weakness.
Now let’s talk about the other side of the coin: forgiving others. For some, this can be even more difficult. It certainly was, and sometimes still is, for me.
The first thing to understand about forgiveness is that it’s not for them—it’s for us. For years, I believed that forgiveness had to be earned. I thought that only if someone showed regret or changed their behavior could I forgive them. This made it incredibly hard to forgive certain people close to me.
Then I learned something powerful from my dear friend, Dr. Edith Eger, a Holocaust survivor and the author of The Choice. She taught me that forgiving others isn’t about condoning their actions; it’s about letting go of the part of ourselves that’s attached to judging them.
It’s not my place to judge. It’s not about accepting what they did. It’s about understanding that holding on to judgment hurts only me. As the saying goes, holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.
Dr. Eger shared that she had forgiven the Nazis, and her way of “getting revenge” was by living a happy, long life. That shifted everything for me. If she could forgive after such horrific events, I realized I could too.
Perhaps the hardest forgiveness of all is the forgiveness we owe ourselves. For all the mistakes we make, for not living up to our expectations, for falling short of the ideal version of ourselves we hold in our minds. No one is a harsher judge of us than ourselves. What helps me in this process is visualizing my younger self as the one who made those mistakes. When I see her, it’s easier to channel compassion instead of judgment, and to recognize that she was doing the best she could with the knowledge and awareness she had at the time.
After forgiveness comes the lifelong work of learning how to live with our scars, with the pain of the past without being consumed by it. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It means accepting what happened and finding the lesson in it.
For me, this means letting go of the need to judge and instead seeking the learning opportunity in every difficult experience. It’s this change in perspective that helps me flow through life’s challenges, closer to my own sense of enlightenment.
Of course, forgiving doesn’t mean we need to maintain relationships with those who’ve wronged us. Especially when they’re people close to us, it’s our responsibility to set boundaries that protect us from further harm. Forgiveness is about release, not about inviting more pain.
One of the biggest realizations I’ve had is that many things I find myself needing to forgive—whether others or myself—are rooted in expectations. I create expectations about how people should behave, what they should say, think, or feel. When I let go of these expectations, I free myself from the negative emotions that come with disappointment.
So, during this sacred time, I invite you to reflect. Who do you need to forgive? What apologies do you need to make, even to yourself? Let’s take this opportunity to release that burden and set ourselves free to live, love, and laugh fully.
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