At Compassionate Voice, we talk a lot about healing, but not always in the ways that dominant culture expects us to.

One of the things I’ve been sitting with lately is how forgiveness, a word that’s often lifted up as the pinnacle of healing can actually feel oppressive, triggering, or just plain inaccessible for a lot of us. Especially for those who’ve experienced spiritual or religious trauma, the word itself can carry more harm than healing.

In many Christian rooted spaces, forgiveness is treated like a moral mandate. You’re told to forgive in order to be good. That healing can’t happen until you do. That to let go means to forgive and if you can’t do that, you’re holding onto bitterness, blocking your own peace, or failing somehow.

But what happens when forgiveness was the very thing used to silence you?

What if it was a clergy person who caused the harm?
A parent who forgave an abuser instead of protecting you?
A religious institution that taught you to tolerate injustice because it was more “godly” to forgive than to speak up?

For many people, especially those who’ve survived spiritual abuse or religious domination, the word forgiveness feels like a trap. It’s been weaponized, used to guilt, to manipulate, or to bypass the real impact of harm. Instead of feeling freeing, it feels like pressure to reconcile when we’re not ready. To release someone who never took accountability. Or to pretend we’re okay just so we can be seen as “healed.”

So I’m choosing to leave the word forgiveness out of the conversation.

I’m not here to redefine it. I’m not here to tell you that you should try to reclaim it. I’m more interested in helping people heal in ways that feel authentic, especially for those who no longer subscribe to the belief systems that once demanded forgiveness from them.

There are ways to release pain, grief, and anger without tying it to the idea of forgiveness.
There are tools (like EMDR, somatic healing, and mindful self-compassion) that help your brain and body finally feel safe—without bypassing your truth. There are paths forward that don’t require spiritual frameworks that hurt you.

Letting go doesn’t have to mean forgiving. It can mean naming what happened. Creating boundaries. Releasing what’s no longer yours to carry. It can mean honoring your nervous system’s timeline, not the one imposed by a sermon or a spiritual “should.”

You deserve access to healing, even if we no longer believe in the god, the church, or the story that told us we had to forgive in order to be whole. You don’t have to forgive to find peace. You just have to find your own way and you don’t have to do it alone.