On resentment, accountability, and the struggle to extend what we hope to receive.
Have you ever been upset with someone and just KNEW that it was their fault and you weren't going to apologize?!
I mean, why would you? THEY treated YOU poorly, and you did absolutely nothing wrong. So you sat back, justified in your feelings, and waited for them to call. To acknowledge what happened. To apologize. To do something.
But they never did.
So you never spoke again. Or maybe you did, but when you finally saw or spoke to each other, the issue simply disappeared. Nobody mentioned it. Nobody apologized. Life just went on as if nothing ever happened. Except, for you, something did happen. And you haven't forgotten.
Okay, maybe it's just me.
But that's where I've been these last few months.
I've been chewing on different topics to write about, starting and stopping, trying to figure out what I wanted to say. But I kept getting stuck. And after sitting with myself for a while, I realized something I didn't particularly enjoy admitting.
I was bitter. My feelings were hurt. And I was having a hard time moving past the fact that people who hurt me seemed perfectly comfortable continuing their lives without ever acknowledging what happened.
And somewhere in all that sitting, reflecting, and praying, I had another uncomfortable realization.
Sometimes, I am the problem.
Not necessarily because my feelings aren't justified or because someone else's behavior was acceptable. But because I don't always respond to hurt in ways that reflect the person I want to be.
I've noticed that when I'm under stress, particularly with the people closest to me, I tend to operate in one of two ways: guns-ablaze confrontation OR sullen retreat.
Sometimes I'm ready to address the issue right then and there, with all the feelings that come along with it. Other times, I need space. Lots of reflection. And LOTS of prayer before I can communicate my hurt in a way that can actually be received.
And the prayer isn't just about finding the right words. It's also about preparing myself for the possibility that the conversation won't end the way I want it to. Because sometimes it doesn't.
Sometimes people don't apologize. Sometimes they don't understand your perspective. Sometimes they don't even recognize that there's a problem.
And sometimes, even when you know all of that, you're still hurt. So why does this matter, and why am I telling you?
#1. Because it's my blog and I want to share. 😂
#2. Because I think a lot of us struggle with getting stuck in our own feelings. And when we can't figure out how to move through those feelings, some of our most meaningful relationships can take a hit.
I say in sessions all the time that people suck. But sometimes? I am the sucky person.
Sometimes I'm the person asking for energy, understanding, patience, and consideration that I'm not always willing—or capable—of giving.
Sometimes I'm the person who responds poorly. Who lets hurt feelings dictate how I engage. Who expects someone else to recognize what they've done without considering what I may have contributed to the situation.
And sometimes, I'm the person who has hurt someone else, whether I intended to or not.
That's a hard thing to acknowledge when you're busy thinking about all the ways someone else has hurt you.
I want grace. I want people to consider my intentions, understand my circumstances, and recognize that even when I get things wrong, I'm still worthy of patience and compassion.
But I sometimes struggle to offer that same grace, especially when my feelings are hurt.
And here's where things get complicated.
I don't believe that extending grace requires me to remain in every relationship. I've made intentional decisions to create distance in places where I don't feel I can show up as my full self, with the authenticity and joy I want to embody.
I want to be at peace with making those decisions.
But what I'm still working on is making peace with the hurt that led to them.
Because distance doesn't automatically erase disappointment. And deciding not to engage with someone doesn't mean you've stopped thinking about what happened.
I'm learning that I can be confident in a boundary and still have work to do with the resentment I'm carrying.
I can acknowledge that someone hurt me and still examine how I've responded.
I can recognize that I haven't always gotten things right without taking responsibility for everything that went wrong.
And I can want to be a person who extends grace while admitting that, right now, some days I struggle to do exactly that.
A Few Things I'm Learning Along the Way
1. Being hurt doesn't mean I'm always right.
My feelings are valid, but that doesn't mean every reaction I have to those feelings is helpful or justified. I can acknowledge that someone hurt me while also being honest about the ways I may have contributed to the conflict. Both things can be true, no matter how hard it is to admit.
2. An apology would be nice, but I can't make it a requirement for my peace.
Y'all. This one is still a work in progress.
I can want someone to acknowledge what happened without allowing their silence to determine how I move forward. I may never get the conversation, explanation, or apology I hoped for. That doesn't mean the hurt isn't real. It just means I have to figure out what to do with it, even without their participation.
3. Grace and access are not the same thing.
I can extend grace to someone without inviting them back into the same space in my life. Forgiveness, reconciliation, and trust are different things. I can wish someone well, recognize their humanity, and still decide that distance is the healthiest and most peaceful choice for me.
4. I have to be willing to offer what I'm asking others to give me.
If I want patience, understanding, accountability, and room to grow, I have to examine whether I'm extending those same things to others. Not perfectly. Not at the expense of my own well-being. But intentionally.
It's difficult to ask someone to see beyond my mistakes when I'm unwilling to consider that they might be more than theirs.
5. Sometimes the work isn't fixing the relationship. It's examining what's happening within me.
Not every relationship will be repaired, and not every difficult conversation will happen. But I still have a responsibility to pay attention to what I'm carrying.
Am I protecting my peace, or am I rehearsing my resentment?
Am I making decisions based on my values, or am I allowing my hurt to make them for me?
Those aren't always easy questions to answer, but they're worth asking. Checking in with myself may be the single most important takeaway.
6. I don't have to have it all figured out to practice grace.
Some days I can reflect, pray, and genuinely wish people well. Other days, I'm still irritated when I think about what happened. Both can exist while I'm growing.
I'm learning that grace isn't necessarily something I arrive at once I've worked through every feeling. Sometimes it's something I have to choose to practice while those feelings are still very much present.
And maybe that's where I am right now.
Still hurt in some places. Still examining myself in others. Still praying. Still learning.
Still trying to understand what it means to extend grace when my feelings are hurt.
And some days, that's as far as I've gotten.
A Question for You (and Me)
The next time you find yourself holding on to hurt, I invite you to consider this question:
Am I holding on because I haven't figured out how to release it, or because releasing it feels like saying what happened was okay?
Sometimes we confuse releasing resentment with absolving someone of responsibility. But those aren't the same thing.
You don't have to come up with any concrete answers today. I'm certainly not there yet. 😂
As I continue to sit with others and explore what it means to live with grace, courage, and authenticity, I'm also committed to examining the places where I struggle to do those very things.
We all have something to learn. And I'm grateful that we don't have to figure it all out alone.
