3 steps to Forgive Yourself

All forgiveness is ultimately self-forgiveness

If you can’t forgive yourself, you can’t truly forgive others. And if you can’t forgive others, you can’t truly forgive yourself. They’re two sides of the same existential pancake.

Some people insist only God can forgive you. Maybe so. But those same people often say you must forgive others. How can you do one and not the other? Even if ultimate absolution comes from a power beyond, you still need to do the groundwork.

So let’s talk about what you can do. Here are three steps to start releasing guilt and healing yourself.

The Three Steps of Self-Forgiveness

1. Separate yourself as the doer from what was done

This thing you did (or didn’t do) is something that happened, not your entire identity.

Step into your Observer Self—the calm, quiet watcher within you. Notice your thoughts. Name them: “I’m having the thought that I’m a total failure… that what I did was unforgivable… that my life is a disaster movie.”

Just observe. Don’t believe every thought as if it’s breaking news.

Same with feelings: “I’m having the feeling that I’m worthless… that I’m bad… that I’m hopeless.”

They’re feelings, not facts. They move through you.

This is how you take responsibility without fusing your entire identity to your mistake. Who you are evolves. Who you were at the time acted from a particular mindset, level of maturity, pain level, or fear. You’re not static. Your deeper Self—your core—is unchanging. The work is bringing your changeable self closer to that unshakeable centre.

Reflect: What was I thinking at the time? What was the logic behind that choice? What pain was I trying to escape? What fear was I trying to control?

People can almost always find the answer with gentle prompting.

Madeline

I once asked Madeline why she was so critical, aggressive, and sometimes even violent toward her partner. Every episode was followed by guilt and remorse. She apologised, promised to change… but didn’t.

Her partner forgave her. She did not forgive herself.

She wasn’t yet witnessing her own behaviour clearly.

“I don’t know why I pick on him so much,” she said. “If he doesn’t do what I want, I get upset.”

Why?

“Because when I don’t do what I set out to do, I hate myself—and I take it out on him.”

There it was: self-hate projected outward. And deeper still, she was terrified he might leave her, so she tried to control him.

When she finally saw this, she could start healing. Awareness opens the door to change.

Tools that help

Chair work

Imagine the person you’ve hurt sitting across from you. Say everything you need to say. It doesn’t matter if they’re unavailable or even deceased—the point is you expressing what’s inside you.

Letter of apology

Write freely. Rant, cry, ramble, scribble. You may send it later, or never. It’s for your release, not their approval.

Journaling

Write down your thoughts and feelings unfiltered. Understanding grows through expression.

Challenge the idea that you’re inherently bad. Look at your actions with honesty and compassion. Maybe you tried to make things right. Maybe you acted from fear or confusion. Understanding is not the same as justifying—it’s the start of healing.

2. Take Responsibility – but don’t become the crime scene

Asking for forgiveness is a powerful step. Say what you regret. Say what you wish you’d done differently. Whether the person is alive or not, express it. If they are alive, they may forgive you… or they may not. And strangely, either outcome is fine.

Because this part isn’t actually about them. This is about you being able to forgive yourself. Your healing can’t depend on someone else’s emotional timetable.

Taking responsibility means looking inward and seeing how you’re attacking yourself. How your own thoughts keep the suffering looping on repeat like a terrible playlist you can’t turn off.

Thoughts like:

• “I can’t believe I did that.”

• “I should’ve known better.”

• “I’m such an idiot.”

• “I can’t be trusted.”

• “I’ll never forgive myself.”

These thoughts create a private hell that can last years—or even decades. And yes, sometimes that hell has a purpose. When the offence is serious, guilt becomes a kind of psychological fire: it burns, but it also purifies. It pushes you to grow.

I’ve met people so consumed by guilt they’ve contemplated suicide to end their suffering. But as the old saying goes: Suicide doesn’t solve the problem—it just puts an end to you.

Even when something isn’t your fault, you’ll still likely blame yourself. Lose your life savings in a scam? You’ll wonder why you trusted the wrong person or why you were “so stupid” or “so greedy.” This is you taking responsibility for your part in the whole drama—your choices, your hopes, your blind spots—not for someone else’s wrongdoing.

Taking responsibility also means accepting that you can’t control what others do. You can only control how you respond. And sometimes that requires recalibrating your values, adjusting your perspective, and deciding what actually matters from now on.

When You’ve Hurt Yourself Through Your Own Actions

Sometimes the person you hurt the most… is you.

Maybe you lost money gambling.

Maybe addiction cost you relationships.

Maybe procrastination cost you opportunities.

Maybe infidelity blew up a life you valued.

Yes, your actions may have hurt others. But the primary casualty was you. So treat yourself as you would treat anyone else you’ve harmed: ask for forgiveness, express your regret, and acknowledge the pain you caused.

It sounds odd, almost theatrical — but it works. You are both the injured and the healer in this scenario. If anyone deserves your compassion, it's you.

When You’ve Hurt Yourself through Inaction

There are regrets about the things you did, and then there are regrets about the things you didn’t do.

People carry entire catalogues of missed opportunities.

Maybe you didn’t finish your degree.

Didn’t chase the job you wanted.

Didn’t travel. Didn’t marry.

Didn’t have children.

Didn’t grab the opportunities while they were in front of you.

Some of this is healthy guilt—you valued something but didn’t pursue it. Some of this is unhealthy guilt—punishing yourself for things you couldn’t do at the time because of illness, trauma, finances, or circumstances totally outside your control.

Healthy guilt invites reflection.

Unhealthy guilt demands compassion.

Futile Regrets

Then there are regrets based on how your life “should” have been. (“Should” according to whom? Instagram? Your extended family? The imaginary panel of judges in your head?)

These regrets aren’t about what you truly value. They’re about what you think other people value.

The right job.

The right partner.

The right house.

The right children.

The right body.

The right résumé.

It’s a never-ending performance review you didn’t ask to be part of.

When these external markers crumble—by your actions or by fate—you feel like you’ve failed at life.

But really, you’ve just failed at meeting someone else’s script.

The Trap of “Should Thinking”

“Should thinking” is the main culprit in self-forgiveness. It’s like a moral judge scolding you constantly.

A simple shift transforms everything.

From “should” to “could”.

Regret about something you didn’t do:

“I should have finished university.”→ “I could have finished university.”

A tiny linguistic tweak creates huge psychological freedom. Suddenly, it’s not a moral failure—it’s a choice you made in a specific context. “Should” implies failure. “Could” implies choice. And with choice comes empowerment.

Then go deeper:

• What was happening in your life then?

• What priorities pulled you in another direction?

• Was it money, relationships, adventure, stress, uncertainty?

• Did you even know what you truly wanted?

Now ask:

Do I still want this thing today? If so, could I pursue it now—maybe differently?

And if you literally couldn’t have done it—due to health, trauma, finances—then even the “could” is inappropriate.

Regret about something you did:

“I shouldn’t have been speeding.”→ “I could have not been speeding.”

This shift opens the door to understanding your behaviour without condemning your entire identity.

What was going on?

• Were you in a hurry?

• Were you emotional?

• Was it fun?

• Were you showing off?

• Were you drunk or stressed?

None of this excuses the behaviour. It explains it—so you can grow from it.

Condemn the Action, Not the Actor

This is the heart of self-forgiveness.

During the entire process, you acknowledge what you did — but you do not collapse your entire identity into that moment. You stop treating yourself as the walking embodiment of your worst mistake.

You start to recognise that you have two inner systems:

• The ego’s thought system — driven by fear, comparison, scarcity, and separateness.

• The true self’s thought system — grounded in connection, compassion, and shared humanity.

You get to choose which system guides your life.

One condemns you. The other redeems you.

3. Accept the Consequences and move forward

Self-forgiveness doesn’t mean you escape consequences. It means you stop confusing punishment with progress.

Consequences are the natural ripple effects of actions. They aren’t moral verdicts — they’re physics. You drop a stone into a lake, and waves happen. Some consequences are immediate and external; others unfold quietly over years.

But here’s the crucial truth: You can face consequences without condemning yourself.

This is where most people get stuck. They assume that accepting consequences equals admitting they are fundamentally flawed, broken, or unworthy. But consequences are about behaviour. Condemnation is about identity.

You’re not the waves the stone created. You’re the person learning how to drop stones more wisely.

Consequences Are Not Life Sentences

There’s a difference between accountability and life-long self-persecution. You can acknowledge the impact of your actions, make amends where possible, and still move forward with dignity.

Some mistakes cost money.

Some cost relationships.

Some cost pieces of your former life.

Some cost time — sometimes years.

But very few mistakes condemn you to permanent exile from your own humanity.

The ego tells you, “This is unforgivable. You don’t deserve peace."

The true self whispers, “You’ve learned. Keep going.”

It’s the whisper you must learn to follow.

The Fork in the Road: Shame or Growth

Every significant regret offers two pathways:

1. Shame

Shame is the belief, “I am bad. ”It slams the door on healing. It keeps you trapped in the event forever.

2. Growth

Growth says, “I did something I regret — but I’m more than this. ”It opens the door to wisdom, compassion, and maturity.

The people who grow the most in life are not the people who never make mistakes — it’s the people who learn how to metabolise them.

Just as the body transforms food into fuel, the psyche can transform regret into understanding. The trick is allowing the digestion to happen, rather than clinging to the undigested guilt like emotional indigestion.

Amends: The Bridge Between Past and Future

Making amends is powerful. Sometimes directly. Sometimes indirectly.

Amends are not about erasing the past, they’re about building a future that justifies the pain you went through.

Alcoholics Anonymous captures this beautifully in Step 9: Make direct amends except when doing so would cause further harm.

Make Amends

John abused his wife Sarah. He wanted to apologise, answer her questions, and make things right. But Sarah had an AVO against him, had rebuilt her life, and was now in a new relationship.

Approaching her would likely traumatise her again. It might disrupt her new life. So John chose indirect amends: a letter of apology, and the promise of “living” amends—changing his behaviour and never disrupting her life again.

That was the most loving thing he could do.

Stepping Into Your True Self

Throughout the whole process of self-forgiveness, you accept responsibility for what you did — but you stop confusing yourself with the version of you who did it. That old self was operating from a faulty thought system, the ego’s operating manual: separation, rivalry, fear, scarcity.

Your job now is to switch manuals.

You learn to identify not with the self who acted out of confusion, but with the true self — the one who knows better, sees clearer, and operates from unity, connection, and sanity.

You’ve learned through painful experience that:

·        you can’t hurt someone without hurting yourself and

·        you can’t curse someone without it boomeranging back on you.

Now it’s time to flip to the other side of the pancake.

·       when you help someone you help yourself and

·        when you wish someone well, it blesses you too.

Compassion never drains you; it circulates