The Practice of Forgiveness
- 2 days ago
- 8 min read
Part Three In A Series On Processing Professional Hurt
“Embracing that pain, that hurt—that is healing. When our muscles heal, it hurts, but we’re healing.” CEO Forum Insight
What You'll Learn
A five-step framework for processing professional hurt
How to honor the wound without letting it define you
When and how to establish healthy boundaries
The ongoing practice of releasing resentment
In Part One and Part Two of this series, we explored why professional hurt costs leaders more than they realize and what forgiveness actually means (spoiler: not what you often think).
Now let’s talk about how to actually do this work.
This isn’t a one-time fix. It’s a practice—something you return to repeatedly as new hurts surface and old ones occasionally flare up. Think of it as emotional muscle memory you’re building, not a problem you’re solving once and for all.
The Five-Step Framework
Step 1: Honor the Hurt
Don’t rush to “get over it.” The wound is real, and minimizing it doesn’t make it heal faster.
“I think we don’t give ourselves a lot of space to be mad or to even have our feelings,” one CEO observed. “We think we’re tough, we’re infallible, we’re Teflon. But this stuff takes a lot out of you.”
Give yourself permission to feel angry, disappointed, betrayed—whatever is present. Not forever, but for as long as it takes to name what actually happened.
Ask yourself:
What specifically hurt here?
Was it the action, the manner in which it happened, or the underlying message it sent?
What did this violate? (Trust? Fairness? Respect? Security?)
One leader described spending an entire summer in legal negotiations: “I actually kept really good records of how much time I spent on this, and it’s hundreds of hours that I didn’t have to spend over the last six months.”
That’s not being petty. That’s acknowledging the real cost. Honor it.
The trap to avoid: Getting stuck in a powerless mentality. Yes, you were hurt. And yes, you still have agency in how you respond.
As one leader put it: “You feel like your power’s been stripped. How do you reclaim some control, some power over the work you do, given the unknown hanging out there?”
Step 2: Examine Your Narrative
We don't just experience events—we create stories about them. Those stories determine whether an incident becomes a temporary setback or a defining wound.
Consider how different narratives shape the same situation:
The Story That Deepens the Hurt:
"My business partner chose money over our relationship. This proves people can't be trusted. I was naive to think we had something more than a transaction. I'll never be that vulnerable again."
The Story That Creates Space:
"My business partner made a choice I wouldn't have made. We valued different things. That partnership taught me important lessons about alignment and due diligence. I can take those lessons forward without closing myself off to future collaboration."
Same facts. Completely different futures.
Notice what story you're telling yourself:
"This always happens to me"
"People can't be trusted"
"I'm not valued/respected/important"
"The world/industry/system is broken beyond repair"
Then ask: What else might be true? Is there a story that acknowledges the hurt while leaving room for agency and hope?
One leader processing a major policy change reflected: “I work hard to recognize, okay, that’s the hurt that creeps in. That is my thought. I am thinking this. And I get to change that narrative, or I get to release that.”
Notice the language: “I get to.” Not “I have to.” This is about claiming your power to interpret, not forcing positivity.
Step 3: Get Clear on Commitment
This is where radical acceptance comes in. You can’t change what happened. The only path forward involves a choice about what comes next.
Are you committed to:
A) Restoring this relationship? If so, what would that require from both parties? What specific actions or acknowledgments need to happen? What timeline is realistic?
One CEO reflected on receiving an olive branch: “He’s extended an olive branch. I’m not sure if I’m ready to take it yet. Forgiveness carries a lot of weight. I’ll get there eventually, but I’m not at a place now where I could respond and say ‘it’s okay, we’re all good.’”
B) Maintaining a professional-only boundary? What does that look like specifically? One leader decided: “I’m not gonna be vulnerable with him again, ever. We sit on a board together, and I see him, and we’re polite, and we chat. But we’re not gonna have that relationship anymore.”
That’s not failure. That’s clarity.
C) Releasing this relationship entirely? What loose ends need tying up? What conversations or actions would create clean closure?
There’s no right answer—only what’s right for your situation. But making a clear choice removes the ongoing drain of ambiguity.
Write it down: “My commitment regarding [person/situation] is: _______. This means I will _______ and I will not _______.”
Step 4: Establish Boundaries
Here’s where many leaders get tripped up: confusing forgiveness with an absence of boundaries.
Red flag phrases to watch for:
"You’re the only person I can talk to about this”
“I need to speak to friend-you, not boss-you”
“I just need someone who understands”
One CEO shared their boundary-setting moment: “I remember them making a comment, ‘I don’t want to speak to my boss, I want to speak to my friend who happens to be my boss.’ That was a huge red flag. I was like, I’m never not your boss. I care about you as a person, but I just want to be clear: I’m always your boss. There’s no side conversation, separate conversation.”
Another leader working with an employee through cancer treatment had to establish: “I’m not gonna feel guilty for not asking you how you’re doing and seeing it on your face that you’re not doing well. I need to stop feeling guilty about that. If you want to share, then you need to say you need to share. You need to tell me—I can’t keep trying to reading your mind.”
Healthy boundaries sound like:
"I value our relationship AND I’m not able to be your only support. Let’s talk about other resources.”
"I can listen for X minutes, and then we need to focus on [work topic].”
“I care about you as a person, and I’m always your leader. I can’t separate those roles.”
“I need you to come to our meetings prepared to work constructively, not just to vent.”
Boundaries aren’t cold. They’re caring enough to be honest about what you can and can’t sustainably provide.
Step 5: Practice the Release
Here’s the truth: forgiveness isn’t a one-time decision. It’s an ongoing practice of noticing when you’re ruminating and choosing to redirect your attention.
One leader described their approach: “I acknowledge, yeah, that sucked. That hurt. It still can hurt. And I can hold grief and joy at the same time. I can hold joy and hurt at the same time. But we don’t spend time deciphering it, figuring it out.”
Some find it helpful to literally envision releasing:
Imagining the hurt as a weight you’re setting down
A balloon you’re letting float away
A burden you’re handing to something larger than yourself
Others prefer the cognitive approach: “That’s my thought. I see it. And I’m choosing to focus my attention elsewhere.”
Either way, expect to repeat this practice many times. One CEO observed: “It’s not a one and done. We are thinking human beings. That’s what we do. The more we recognize when we are creating suffering through our thinking, the more we can release that versus continuing to feel hurt or suffering.”
The key insight: Every time you notice yourself ruminating, you have a choice. You can feed that thought, turn it over again, rehearse what you wish you’d said. Or you can acknowledge it and consciously redirect.
Not suppressing. Not pretending it doesn’t exist. Just declining to give it energy.
When Restoration Is Possible
Sometimes, forgiveness opens the door to restored relationships. Not always, but sometimes.
One CEO reflected on the difference: “Two things can be true at once. I can be mad at you, and I can also be sad for you at the same time.”
If restoration is your goal, here’s what it requires:
From the person who caused hurt:
- Genuine acknowledgment of what happened and its impact
- Taking responsibility without defensiveness or excuses
- Changed behavior, not just words
- Patience with the process—forgiveness can’t be rushed
From you:
- Willingness to be vulnerable again (not immediately, but eventually)
- Clear communication about what you need
- Commitment to releasing resentment even as trust rebuilds slowly
- Acceptance that the relationship will be different
One leader described receiving an email that felt like a turning point: “In that email, he demonstrated a bit of vulnerability, and he sort of admitted that he might have made the wrong decision.”
That vulnerability created space for movement. Not instant restoration, but possibility.
The Ongoing Practice
Here’s your roadmap for making this more than theory:
This Week:
Name what specifically hurt. Get granular—not “They let me down” but “They made a commitment, then broke it without communication, which made me feel disrespected and foolish.”
Notice your story. What meaning are you making from this hurt? Write it down.
Ask: What would releasing this resentment open up for me? What might become possible?
This Month:
Choose one trusted person (not someone involved in the situation) to process this with honestly. Give yourself permission to vent, then move to reflection.
Make a commitment decision about the relationship. Write down what boundaries or next steps that requires.
Practice the release. Every time you notice yourself ruminating, acknowledge the thought and consciously redirect your attention.
This Year:
Develop forgiveness as a leadership practice. Not because everyone deserves it, but because you deserve to reclaim the energy that resentment consumes.
One CEO summed it up perfectly: “It’s actually okay for us to acknowledge that we have feelings, and sometimes those feelings are really ugly. It’s been a long time in coming for me to say that.”
The Scar Tissue
One leader shared a powerful metaphor: scar tissue might look healed on the surface, but if the fascia underneath hasn’t been properly addressed, it affects everything—digestive issues, neurological function, even mental health.
Professional hurt works the same way. You can look healed, function well enough, keep leading effectively. But if you haven’t done the work underneath, that unprocessed hurt affects your decision-making, your capacity to trust, your openness to possibility.
“Things that I thought maybe I had these experiences that scarred me, and maybe I thought I was healed, but it hasn’t been,” they reflected. “I have to go back and work at it. It’s easy to avoid it, easy to not want to go there.”
The work isn’t easy. But it’s worth it.
Final Words
Leadership is hard. You’ll be hurt. You’ll face betrayals, disappointments, and losses that cut deep.
The question isn’t whether you’ll encounter situations requiring forgiveness—it’s whether you’ll develop the capacity to process them in ways that leave you stronger rather than more guarded.
Organizations are networks of relationships. Those networks will fracture. Your job isn’t to prevent all fractures (impossible) or pretend they don’t hurt (dishonest).
Your job is to model what healthy repair looks like—or healthy release, when repair isn’t possible or wise.
Forgiveness isn’t a weakness that leaves you vulnerable to more hurt. It’s a strength that frees you to lead with clarity, connection, and courage.
That’s the work. And you’re ready for it.
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