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Leya Thaobunyuen: Why is forgiving ourselves so hard? The book explores shame, resentment, ego, identity, and the ways that we become attached to our own suffering. Some of us are stuck in that victim mentality, right? There's an important distinction between remorse and shame. Remorse says, I did something that doesn't align with who I want to be. Shame says, what I did proves who I am. Remorse can move, shame gets stuck. Remorse can teach, shame condemns. Remorse says, Too better. Shame says you are beyond butter. There are things we've done that we wish we could undo. Things that have been done to us that we're still carrying. Conversations we wish we could have again. Choices we would make differently if we could somehow go back knowing what we know now. And sometimes the person we have the hardest time forgiving isn't the person who hurt us. It's the person looking back at us in the mirror. This episode, we're talking about guilt, shame, regret, the choices that shape us. And what it really takes to forgive ourselves and other people. Because forgiveness isn't about changing the past, it's about finally giving ourselves permission to change the future. Welcome back to Second Chances. The best parts are on side B. I'm Jenny, I sat down with Heather Murray and Sharice Brown, authors of Forgiven. Own What Is, Let Go of What Isn't. And let me tell you, we had a conversation, a really good conversation. We laughed, we got serious, we shared some personal moments. We talked about guilt, forgiveness, childhood experiences, choices, boundary, shame. And why we can sometimes extend compassion to practically everybody on the planet except ourselves. And then technology decided to humble me. Our recording didn't survive. Yep, gone. And there are moments when all you can do is stare at the computer and think, seriously? But the funny thing is, for an episode about forgiveness, letting go and accepting what we cannot change, this was almost a little too appropriate. So frustrated about the recording, I could beat myself up. I could replay everything like I should have checked this and that, or I could own what is and let go of what isn't, right? See what I did there? So instead of trying to recreate the interview word for word, I want to do something different. I want to tell you what stayed with me. I want to share what we discussed during our conversation about the book And why I think this subject matters so much to anyone that believes in second chances, especially second chances with ourselves. The rest of your life is ahead of you. One of the first things that stopped me when I opened Forgiven was this thought from Matthew Kelly. Whether you are 16 or 60, the rest of your life is ahead of you. Think about that. The rest of your life is ahead of you. It sounds obvious, you know, of course it is, but. How many of us are physically living in the present while emotionally living somewhere 20 or 30 years ago? Our bodies have moved on, the calendar's moved on, everybody else may have moved on, but part of us is still standing in that old room. Why? We're still replaying that argument, regretting that relationship, wishing we had said yes or wishing we had said no. Still thinking, if I hadn't done that, if I had only known. If that hadn't happened, if I just made that choice. Heather said something that stuck with me. We spend so much of our time either in the past or in the future. We ruminate about what happened or what we think happened, and then we jump ahead and create futures that haven't even happened yet. So we're miserable about yesterday and we're worried about tomorrow. While today is sitting here saying hello. Anybody home? that made me think about the title of their book. Own what is, let go of what isn't. That does not mean pretending the past didn't happen. this was something Sharice was very clear about Forgiveness is not an escape hatch from accountability. We still own what we did. We make amends when we can and recognize where we caused hurt. We can learn. And we can grow, but Sharice brought up an important question. When is enough enough? When have you taken responsibility? And when have you learned that lesson? When have you done what you reasonably can to repair something? when does accountability turn into a life sentence? Because there's a difference between saying I did something I regret and saying I am something regrettable. Those are not the same sentence. One describes an action, the other becomes an identity. And I think a lot of us confuse the two. We keep punishing today's version of ourselves for something yesterday's version of ourselves did. And eventually we have to ask, how long is the sentence? Five years, 10, 30, forever? At what point are we allowed to say I own it, I learned from it, I'm sorry for it, and I'm not gonna incarcerate myself inside that version of me anymore. That word incarcerate really stuck with me because that's exactly what we do, right? We build a prison out of an old decision and become both the prisoner and the guard. This is where it got personal with me. Early in the book, there's a story about Nicole. I'm not gonna tell you the whole story, you need to read the book But I will tell you this: Nicole's story. caught me off guard because I saw pieces of her in myself almost immediately. And it actually brought me to tears. not necessarily because our circumstances were identical. They sort of kind of were, but it was the emotional truth that was underneath it. That feeling of looking backward at choices you made when you were so young and judging that younger girl with everything you know today. So I know that feeling. I'm the oldest of eight children growing up. There was an expectation and the feeling that everyone was watching me. You set the example, Jenny. You make a mistake. And somehow, in your mind at least, it isn't just your mistake anymore. It's everybody else that might follow you. So don't screw this up. And when you
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grow up carrying that kind of pressure, mistakes can feel enormous. The book includes a thought that was attributed to Anne Frank. Our lives are fashioned by our choices. And yes, our choices matter. And absolutely our choices have consequences. But here's what Heather said during our conversation that I keep coming back to. If she had known then what she knows now, she would have made way different choices. But she didn't know what she didn't know. Neither did I, and neither did you. I want to be careful here because this isn't about letting ourselves off the hook. It's about being Fair to the person we used to be. Think about a decision you made at 18, 25, 30, 40, whatever age comes to mind. Now imagine putting that person on trial. But here's the catch the prosecutor gets to use everything you know today, every lesson, every heartbreak, every therapy session, book, relationship, every consequence, every bit of wisdom you've accumulated since then. And your younger self has to defend herself. using only what she knew then. That's not a fair trial, you guys. Of course we can see things she couldn't We have information she did not have. Maybe she wanted approval. Maybe she was scared. Maybe she was lonely and she had never seen a healthy relationship and what that looked like. Maybe she didn't understand boundaries or if she thought love meant sacrificing herself. Maybe she was impulsive. Maybe she was surviving or she simply made a bad decision. Maybe she had ADHD. Human beings do that. So what if instead of asking, how could I have been so stupid? We asked, What did that version of me understand at the time? And then what do I understand now? Because the second question is where growth lives. The why behind our behavior. This was one of the most fascinating parts of the book for me. Before reading Forgiven, I had never heard the term. ACES. ACES stands for adverse childhood experiences. During our conversation, Sharice explained how experiences in childhood and the environment we're raised in can influence how we respond to the world later. The things we're exposed to, instability, abuse, trauma, family circumstances, the ways we learn to protect ourselves, the messages we receive about who we are. Sharice shared something very personal. When she learned about ACEs and looked at her own childhood experiences, there was this realization, that explains a lot. It wasn't great. Now I don't have to be responsible for anything. No, it was an understanding. And those are two very different things. Understanding why I behave a certain way does not mean I have permission to hurt people. Understanding why I made a choice doesn't erase the consequences of that choice. But understanding can replace condemnation with context. And context can be incredibly healing. Sharice also talked about core beliefs. Think about how early those began. What were you told about yourself when you were young? In those formative years? Were you the smart one? The difficult one? The responsible one? The dramatic one? The pretty one or the troublemaker? Were you the peacemaker? The one who never needed anything? Or asked for anything. The one who had to hold everything together. Those messages get inside of us. Sometimes we carry them into adulthood without ever stopping to ask, is this actually who I am? Or is this who I learned I had to be? And then we make adult choices using emotional tools. That we may have picked up as children. And again, understanding is not excusing. It's information. If I know why I react the way I do, I can start changing how I react. If I know where the wound came from, I can stop pretending it isn't there. If I understand the pattern, I finally have a chance to interrupt it. There's a thought in forgiven that captures this beautifully. When you forgive, you don't change the past, but you can change the future. That's huge, you guys, because forgiveness doesn't travel backward through time. It doesn't erase what happened. It changes what happens next. Maybe I can't change the relationship I stayed in, but I can change what I accept in my next relationship. Maybe I can't change the boundary I didn't set, but I can't set one today. Maybe I can't unsay the words I said or spoke. But I can change the way I communicate now. Maybe I can't give my younger self the wisdom I have today, but I can stop punishing her for not having it then. That's changing the future. There are two quotes connected to this book that I keep thinking about. Desmond Tutu said, Forgiveness says you are given another chance to make a new beginning. And Bruce Lee said, Mistakes are always forgivable. If one has the courage to admit them. The word in both of those phrases is courage, because asking for forgiveness is vulnerable. A real apology isn't, I'm sorry you were offended. That's not an apology. And it isn't, I'm sorry, but here's everything you did wrong too. That's not an apology. Real accountability sounds more like I did this, it hurt you. I understand why. I'm so sorry. I can't undo it, but I can change what I do from here. And then comes the difficult part. What if they don't forgive you? What if you own it? What if you apologize sincerely? And what if you made the changes? And what if you become a different person and the person you hurt still says no? This is where forgiveness gets complicated because we don't control the other person's healing. We don't control their timeline. And apologizing doesn't perk. Just forgiveness. We can't say, Well, I apologize. So now you're required to release me. No, they get to decide what they need. And sometimes the consequences of our actions is that a relationship does not return to what it was. That's painful. But here's the other side. Their decision not to forgive you does not mean you must punish yourself forever. You can take responsibility without surrendering the rest of your life. You can say, I wish I had done things differently. I understand the damage. I'm
sorry. I have changed and I'm going to live in a way that demonstrates what I learned. Because sometimes your changed life becomes the apology you continue making, not because you're trying to convince someone else, because you're choosing not to repeat what you now understand. Okay, so why is forgiving ourselves so hard? This to me is the heart of the entire conversation that we're having. Why can we give grace to everyone else except ourselves? Think about it. If a friend came to you and said, So I made this choice a long time ago. I wish I could go back and do it differently. my gosh. We would probably have so much compassion for them, right? We'd say, you didn't know then what you know now. You've learned, you've grown. it's who you are now. Give yourself a little grace. when it's our story, that's different, isn't it? I can look back at something I did. 32 years ago. And suddenly I'm right back there questioning everything. Why did I do that? Why didn't I know better? And what if I'd done this instead? And I have to remind myself, Jenny, you didn't know. You didn't know. You were making decisions with life experience you had at that time, not with everything you know today. And I think that's the hardest part about forgiving ourselves. We look back with all the wisdom we have now. And expect that younger version of ourselves to have somehow known it too. No, she didn't. So maybe instead of continuing to beat her up for it, I can finally say, okay, I understand why you made that choice. I wish some things had been different, but I know better now and I'm going to do better now. To me, that's what giving ourselves grace actually looks like. Why? The book explores shame, resentment, ego. identity and the ways that we become attached to our own suffering. Maybe some of us are stuck in that victim mentality, right? I think there's an important distinction between remorse and shame. Remorse says, I did something that doesn't align with who I want to be. Shame says what I did proves who I am. Remorse can move, shame gets stuck. Remorse can teach, shame condemns. Remorse says, do better. Shame says, you are beyond better. And if we believe shame long enough, we can start building an identity around it. The mistakes isn't something that happened. It becomes who I am. The divorce, the affair, the addiction, the bankruptcy, the bad parent, the person who stayed, the person who left, or the person who wasn't there. The person who made the choice and the person who got hurt, whatever it is, and even being the person who was wronged can become an identity. That's difficult to talk about because the pain may have been completely real, the injustice may have been real, as well as the harm may have been real. So forgiveness doesn't deny any of that. But eventually we may have to ask, who am I if I stop organizing my life around what happened to me? That could be a scary question because sometimes we've carried something for so long that putting it down feels
like losing a part of ourselves. But maybe Putting it down isn't losing ourselves. Maybe it's finally meeting ourselves without the weight. So a little grace for the younger you, There's a passage from the book that may be my favorite. The message is essentially this: forgive yourself for the decisions you made, for what you didn't understand, for being young and maybe being reckless, and then grow from it. That hit me because I have absolutely looked backward at my own life. undone the what if game? What if that hadn't happened? What if the phone hadn't been disconnected? What if he found me? What if he called? What if I had done this differently? What if I had understood that? What if, what if? Okay. So all the stories we can write the what if with. And the problem with imaginary history is that we always somehow know the alternate version, what have turned out perfectly. Really? How do we know that? Maybe the grass would have been greener, or maybe there wasn't any grass. Maybe there was a giant sinkhole over there. We don't know, right? We're comparing the messy life we actually live to an imaginary life where everything conveniently worked out. And that isn't fair. I can look at my younger self and judge her, or I can look at her and think, girl, you had some things to learn. And you learned them. You stumbled, you got hurt. You hurt people, you trusted people you shouldn't have trusted, and you didn't trust some people, you probably should have. You misunderstood things, you took things personally, you made choices out of fear. You made choices because you wanted love or approval and somehow you ended up here. Maybe our younger selves don't need another lecture from us. Maybe they've heard enough and need us to say, I understand you now, I forgive you. Thank you for getting me here. And you know, forgiveness does not mean access. this is incredibly important. Forgiving somebody does not automatically mean letting them back into your life. Lewis B. Smeeds famously described forgiveness as setting a prisoner free and discovering the prisoner was you all along. I love that idea because it changes what forgiveness is for. Forgiveness isn't necessarily an invitation. Or it isn't a key to your front door. It isn't permission for somebody to hurt you again. It isn't pretending what happened was okay. And forgiveness and reconciliation are not identical. Reconciliation involves relationship that requires more than one person. It requires trust, safety change, accountability. And oftentimes, forgiveness can happen inside you without a relationship ever being restored. You can forgive somebody and block their number. You can forgive somebody and love them from several zip codes away. That's okay. You can't forgive someone and still say, You don't get access to me anymore. Boundaries aren't revenge. They're information. They're you saying, This is what I will participate in. This is what I won't. This is how I expect to be treated. This is what happens if that boundary isn't respected. And I think sometimes, especially for people who are caregivers, people pleasers. Peacemakers the person everyone comes to. Boundaries feel mean at first. But there is a difference between being mean and protecting your peace. You don't have to keep reopening a wound to prove you've forgiven the person who caused it. So, all right, when life goes sideways, because it will. Okay, here's the thing. You can listen to this episode. You can read forgiven, own what is, let go of what isn't. You can highlight every sentence. You can journal and have your breakthrough. You can say, I bless and release it. Cue the inspirational music, birds flying overhead, the clouds part, and then trigger Tuesday happens. Somebody says something, a song comes on, you drag past a place, you see a picture, you smell a fragrance, or Facebook gives you one of those memories you absolutely did not request, and suddenly there it is. The anger hurt shame the memory. And you think, wait a second, I thought I had forgiven this situation or this person, myself for doing something stupid. Maybe you did. Forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean the memory disappears, and it doesn't mean you will never feel something again. Healing isn't a delete button. Sometimes forgiveness is something we choose again and again and again. It's a process, it's a journey. That's why I think it's less as a destination and more. As a practice, you may have forgiven someone five years ago and still have a day when the hurt comes back. That doesn't mean you failed. It means something touched the pruse. The question becomes, what do I do with it now? Do I feed it? Do I build another story around it? Or do I go digging through old evidence? Do I reopen the whole entire courtroom? Or can I notice it and say, there you are. I remember you, but you don't live here anymore. That's what forgiveness can look like on an ordinary trigger Tuesday. just a decision to not hand yesterday the keys to today. Where do we begin? Maybe you've been listening this whole time and you already know. You know the name of the situation you may have gotten yourself into. You know exactly what you're carrying. Maybe someone betrayed you and somebody abandoned you. Or somebody said something you still hear in your head and they never apologized. Maybe they never will. Or maybe the person you need to forgive is you. So where do you begin? I think this book Forgiven gives us a really useful path. First, tell the truth. What happened? Not the polished version or the version where you make yourself completely innocent, not the version where you make yourself completely guilty either. So what actually happened? What belongs to you and what doesn't? That's owning what it is. Okay, so second. Understanding without excusing what was happening in your life. What did you believe in? What did you know? What didn't you know? And what patterns were you carrying? What wounds were influencing you?
Understanding the why doesn't erase the responsibility. It gives you a place to begin changing. Third, make amends where appropriate and possible. Apologize if an apology is needed and repair what can be repaired. Take responsibility without demanding a particular response. And then fourth, accept what you cannot control. This is a hard one. You cannot rewrite the past. You cannot make yesterday something it wasn't. And finally, decide what happens next. That's the part we still own. I can't control 32 years ago, but I have some say over today. I can't change the little girl that I was, but I can decide how I treat the woman I am right now. I can't change what somebody did to me, but I can decide whether they continue occupying emotional real estate in my future. And maybe that's where the second chance is. Heather and Sharice, thank you, thank you, thank you for writing this book. And thank you for the conversation we had. Even if technology decided the rest of the world wasn't going to hear it exactly the way we recorded it the first time. But I heard it and I have been reading and doing the work. And it has stayed with me. There are so many of us walking around carrying stuff we probably should have put down a long time ago. Guilt, regret, resentment, shame, all of it. And after a while, you almost get used to carrying it. You don't even realize you're doing it anymore. But here's what I'm taking away from the conversations that we had. We don't have to keep carrying the shame. We can own the choices we made. Without beating ourselves up over them for the rest of our lives. We can remember what happened without going back and living there every time it crosses our mind. And we can't forgive somebody without saying, okay, come back on into my life and let's do this all over again. Nope. Forgiveness and access are two different things. And understand why we made some of the choices we made doesn't mean we're making excuses for ourselves. It means maybe we finally understand ourselves a little better. I made a mistake. You made a mistake. We're human. We're going to make some more. The point is, did we learn something? Did we grow? Are we doing things differently now? Because if I know better today than I did back then, I think that has to count for something. If there's one thing I hope that you take away from this episode is this the rest of your life is still ahead of you. I don't care if you're 16, 60 or somewhere in between. Your past may explain you. It may have shaped you. It may have changed you. But it does not get to make every decision about who you become next. You don't have to pretend nothing happened to you. And you don't have to suddenly feel okay about everything. Just ask yourself, what am I ready to stop carrying? And who could I become if I finally put it down? Heather Murray and Sharif Sprown's book is called Forgiven. On What Is, Let Go of What Isn't. The link will be in the show notes. If this conversation connected with you, I really encourage you to pick this book up. Not because it's going to magically erase your past, but because it may help you look at your past and yourself a little differently. And that's where a second chance begins. I'm Jenny, and this is Second Chances. The best parts are on side B. And remember, you are more than the worst thing you've done. You are more than the worst thing that's been done to you. You are still becoming, and there is still more of your story to write. You don't have to figure it all out today. You just have to be willing to take that first step. So give yourself a little grace on what is, let go of what isn't. Your past is part of your story, but it doesn't have to write what comes next. That's what second chances are all about. Until next time, take good care of yourself and each other. I'll see you next time on side B.