Who Are You to Forgive? 🧐🕊️

We hear it all the time:

“Who am I to judge?”

But somehow…

“I forgive them”

rolls off the tongue with ease.

Funny how people avoid judgement like it’s a sin —

but hand out forgiveness like it’s sainthood.

Let’s break this down:

To say “I forgive” means:

🧩 You assessed what happened.

🧩 You decided it was wrong, hurtful, or not okay.

🧩 You chose to release the weight — for your own peace.

Sounds noble.

But let’s not pretend forgiveness is free from judgment.

It requires judgment.

You cannot forgive what you haven’t first judged.

It’s the quieter side of the same coin.

And here’s the kicker:

Forgiveness often puts you on a pedestal.

“I’ve processed your wrongness.”

“I now choose mercy.”

“I have the power to absolve.”

Sure — that can be healing.

But let’s not ignore the hierarchy embedded in the act.

So why do we applaud forgiveness, but shame judgment?

Because:

⚖️ Forgiveness sounds spiritual.

🫱 Judgment sounds harsh.

🤝 Forgiveness soothes.

💥 Judgment stirs.

But truth?

They’re both forms of moral positioning.

And if we’re being real…

Some people perform forgiveness to avoid feeling what’s underneath.

They skip the discomfort of acknowledging pain

— and jump straight to looking “evolved.”

That’s not healing. That’s bypassing.

So next time you’re about to say “I forgive” — pause.

Ask:

🪞 Am I forgiving from true release — or quiet superiority?

🧭 Have I fully felt, processed, and honoured the hurt?

🧘‍♂️ Or am I skipping the work and calling it grace?

Forgiveness is powerful.

But like any power — it needs to be used with consciousness.