He agreed, kept silent, then got even with her by sleeping with a neighbor's wife. Even though he cheated on Marge, he considered himself the hurt party.

After Marge found out about his affair, she and Mark came to my office to work on forgiving each other. Mark started off by saying he was the one who had been unfaithful and Marge had done nothing equal to his transgression. "I feel uncomfortable, like a baby, asking you to listen to my issues," he told her. "Let's focus on yours first."

This sounded reasonable, so we proceeded, not knowing Mark's hidden agenda.

Marge poured out her pain. Mark listened and then wrote her an apology, capturing all the ways in which his affair had ravaged her life.

The couple scheduled an appointment the following week, when Mark would detail his his grievances and Marge would write him an apology. But two hours before the session, Mark canceled it. He scheduled a new time, but then arrived alone and said that he had forgotten to tell Marge. "What's going on?" I asked him. Finally, he confronted the truth: He didn't grievances and Marge would write him an apology. But two hours before the session, Mark canceled it. He scheduled a new time, but then arrived alone and said that he had forgotten to tell Marge. "What's going on?" I asked him. Finally, he confronted the truth: He didn't want want Marge to address his anger. He didn't want to give up his grudge. He didn't want to heal. "If I tell her how much she hurt me, I know she'll listen and apologize for not supporting me, and then I'll have to forgive her," he explained. Marge to address his anger. He didn't want to give up his grudge. He didn't want to heal. "If I tell her how much she hurt me, I know she'll listen and apologize for not supporting me, and then I'll have to forgive her," he explained.

"You know," he said, smiling, "I'm Sicilian. Sicilians never forgive."

What Mark's humor tried to hide was a troubled childhood. He had been born late in his parents' lives and was often treated as a nuisance, an unwelcome guest. Marge's lack of support felt oddly comfortable to him. He was determined to play the aggrieved victim Genuine Forgiveness 205.

and cast Marge as the withholding wife-roles that were all too familiar for him. Allowing Marge to reach out to him would have forced him to rewrite his life story-an option that was more difficult, more threatening, than remaining dysfunctional and distressed.

For Mark, as for you, apologies are sometimes hard to accept- harder than the injury itself. When you allow the offender to apologize, you may be forced to cast him in a different light-to see him as a mixture of good and bad, as, G.o.d forbid, a fellow human being, vulnerable and worthy of forgiveness.

The brutality of a compa.s.sionate apology is evident in my work with infidelity. My patient Jen is typical. When she sent a letter to her partner's former lover, Lauren, the woman responded with a sincere display of remorse. "I want to apologize for the hurt I've caused you," she wrote. "I think about it every day. I'd like not to face the fact that I did this to you, because it doesn't fit my idea of myself, but I did do it, and I live with that reality every day. I'm about to get married myself soon, and I pray that someone doesn't do to me what I did to you. If there were something I could do to take away your pain, I would do it. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know how deeply sorry I am."

How awful it was for Jen to learn that Lauren was capable of guilt and compa.s.sion! How unsettling it was to find herself liking this "beast" and understanding why her husband had been attracted to her. Hostility or silence would have been easier to swallow. "Lauren's apology felt like new skin over a wound," Jen told me, "but I wanted to tear it off and let the blood flow free again."

Let Him Know What He's Doing Right.

The offender is unlikely to reach out to you if you fail to notice or approve his efforts. I advise you to encourage him whenever he: * bears witness to your pain and listens with an open heart; * apologizes generously, genuinely, and responsibly; * reflects on the origin and meaning of his behavior; and * works to rebuild trust.

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A school administrator named Ellen failed to nourish her husband's efforts, with predictable results. After she and her husband, Nick, had been in therapy for three months, I suggested that they review the lists of changes they had asked of each other, and discuss their progress. One of Ellen's key requests was that he stop deriding her, and making her the b.u.t.t of jokes, particularly in public. He had tried hard to change, but Ellen was not impressed.

Nick was discouraged. "Exactly when did I last put you down?"

he challenged her.

Ellen merely shrugged. The next time we were alone, I asked her what she was thinking. Was Nick exaggerating his good behavior?

Had she not noticed any changes? Was she afraid to admit any?

"I don't want to let him off the hook too easily," she admitted.

"I'm afraid if I tell him I'm pleased with his efforts, he'll revert to his old ways."

I encouraged Ellen to talk out her fears with Nick rather than act them out. I suggested that she support his efforts by telling him, "I'm afraid to show grat.i.tude because I'm afraid you'll stop trying.

What you're doing is helpful. It lets me feel closer to you. I hope you'll continue." Letting Nick know what he was doing right-patting the bunny, as they say in sophisticated psychological circles- was more likely to elicit the response she wanted than criticizing him for what he was doing wrong.

I have found, particularly in intimate relationships, that the offender's greatest fear is that you'll never forgive him -that no matter how hard he tries to win back your affection or respect, you'll always despise and punish him. It's hard for him to keep producing positive, trust-building behaviors when he believes you'll make your time together a living h.e.l.l. And so I counsel you again: don't be afraid to ma.s.sage his efforts. You're likely to be the beneficiary. If you're not, you can always stop.

Apologize for Your Contribution to the Injury.

You may be completely innocent, and the person you call the offender completely guilty. Usually, though, there are two biased Genuine Forgiveness 207.

versions of the truth. If you hope to move the forgiveness process along, you need to take full responsibility for whatever you did wrong, no matter how minor, and apologize without qualifications.

In cases of infidelity, I often say to the unfaithful partner, "If you've had an affair, take 100 percent responsibility for it. No one causes you to be unfaithful, just as no one causes you to develop an eating disorder or an alcohol addiction. That's how you managed or mismanaged whatever you were struggling with at the time." But I also say to the hurt party, "You, too. Take responsibility for what you did wrong-for contributing, perhaps, to your partner's grievances, and making room for a third person to come between you."

If you feel that someone wronged you more than you wronged him, you'll probably want him to apologize first. That's fair and understandable. But you should a.s.sure him that you'll take a turn - and then keep your promise.

Recently, I was asked to consult with a colleague's patient, Sharon, who couldn't bring herself to forgive her husband for his affair. "I'm stuck," she told me. "He's doing everything under the sun to get me to forgive him and love him again-and I'd like to. But my obsessions and my rage seem to get worse over time, not better."

"Sharon, this is a one-time consultation, so let me be direct," I told her after hearing her story. "You tell me you were emotionally deprived as a child. Your mother never made you feel loved or good enough, your father never stood up for you, never came to your defense. You did your best to win their approval, but they weren't impressed. You've made what the world would consider a success of your life, graduating with honors from an Ivy League school and getting advanced degrees in psychology and finance. You've got wealth, prestige, and a beautiful family. You've worked your whole life to shine brighter than anyone else, and you believe you've done everything right. But then one day you find out that this intellectual husband of yours is having an affair with a young, uneducated baby-sitter-and what happens? Your 'official story' is torn to shreds, and you feel disgraced and wronged.

"You say, 'This shouldn't have happened.' But it did. And you're trying to understand why. There are many answers. Some have to do 208 with your husband's personal issues. He's always been so responsible, so determined to do things right-the affair may have accessed what was missing in his life. Some have to do with opportunity and romantic chemistry-she came on to him, and he was swept up in an obsession he didn't understand and couldn't control. The hard answers, though, have to do with you. By your own admission, you were immersed in your career and children, at his expense. When he called you at work, you hung up as quickly as you could. When he approached you for s.e.x, you often turned the other way. When his brother had a serious car accident, you were too busy to visit him in the hospital. Before his affair, you saw the two of you as a happy, picture-perfect couple. You see him now as yet another person who treated you shabbily, who did this terrible thing to you that you didn't deserve and won't ever forgive him for. Your anger frames and preserves this picture. But if you're going to move on -if you're going to forgive him and let him back into your life-you're going to have to face the truth. And the truth is that you've been an accomplice to the crime; you're culpable, too. That level of self-awareness is going to hurt, but it may also help you heal."

Sharon listened thoughtfully and said, "It's hard for me to hear what you're saying, but I think you're on to something. What are you recommending?"

I answered, "It's been fourteen months since your husband gave up his affair and dedicated himself to repairing the marriage. If you really love him and want to forgive him, I suggest that you write him an apology describing all the ways you've wronged him over the years, all the ways you've pushed him away and blamed him for the breakdown of the marriage."

"You're kidding," Sharon said.

"You don't have to, of course," I went on. "You can continue to be aggrieved and righteous. But if you want to cleanse yourself of those feelings and forgive him, you have to rewrite your story, stop proclaim-ing your innocence, humble yourself, and accept some of the blame.

When you acknowledge to him, 'Look, I'm not perfect. I know I did things to offend you, too,' you accomplish two goals. First, you see your Genuine Forgiveness 209.

injury more clearly and discover that you may have less to forgive than you thought. You may even find that you're the one who needs to be forgiven. Second, you give him no excuse to be defensive. On the contrary, you demonstrate that you have enough character to admit doing wrong and inspire him to do the same."

A week later, I received a letter from Sharon. "I want to thank you for our session," she said. "You were provocative but helpful. I took your advice and owned up to my share of the problem. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but it needed to be done."

What Sharon came to realize is that Genuine Forgiveness happens not between two compet.i.tive, insecure, retaliatory individuals, but between those who have the steady courage and self-possession to confront their culpability in each other's presence.

From Not Forgiving to Genuine Forgiveness: A Case Study A Case Study Genuinely Forgiving someone doesn't necessarily mean that from now on you radiate only goodwill toward him. It does mean that you allow his reparative efforts to soften the way you feel about and perceive him. You release him from your hatred not just because a life of hate is a prison sentence you refuse to condemn yourself to, but because he has earned a more positive response.

When Mary first visited me, she was a depressed twenty-seven-year-old who abused alcohol and was s.e.xually promiscuous. As she told me her life story, it became clear that the way her parents treated her throughout her youth was now her way of knowing and treating herself.

Mary was four when her alcoholic father left home. She heard from him rarely-a birthday card, a phone call. When she was nine, her mother remarried a man whose idea of play was trying to stick his fingers into Mary's v.a.g.i.n.a while she struggled to hold her legs tightly together. Her mother never tried to protect her. Even after her mother's second marriage ended in divorce, she continued to deny that Mary had been violated.

At sixteen, Mary left home and got involved in a series of abusive 210 romantic relationships. Eventually she moved in with Eddie, a relatively stable, responsible young man who claimed to love her. When he proposed marriage, she panicked and came into therapy. We used her life story as a window into why she feared intimacy and a committed relationship. It became clear that a relationship to her was a place of harm, where she could expect to be exploited or deserted.

Mary divulged to me a pivotal incident between her and her natural father. "Three years ago, I located him in Austin and arranged to meet him and his latest girlfriend-Rhonda-and introduce them to Eddie," she told me. "The meeting was a colossal failure. My father hardly asked me a single personal question. When he got up to go to the men's room I asked Rhonda how she and my father had met. 'At a bar,' she told me. 'I asked him what his astro-logical sign was and he said, "Vasectomy, because I never wanted to have children."' I felt stunned and sick. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. When my father came back to the table, I told him I wasn't feeling well, grabbed Eddie, and took off. All my life I believed I meant nothing to him. This was the ultimate proof."

For the next few years Mary worked to stabilize herself. She got into college, where she proved her competence. She gave up drugs, alcohol, and random s.e.x and began to separate how she felt about herself from the way those who had abused and abandoned her had made her feel. She refused to bury herself in bitterness.

When she thought of her father, however, she still ached over the loss of him. I suggested the following intervention. As Mary's therapist, I would E-mail him and try to gain more insight into his behavior. I would share the information with Mary only if I thought it was constructive. My first goal was to get the facts straight, to show him the "soft underbelly" of Mary's pain, and test his capacity to demonstrate concern.

Here's what I said: Dear Mr. Samuels, I'm writing on behalf of your daughter Mary. I'm a clinical psychologist who's been working with her in therapy.

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The idea of writing an E-mail to you is completely my own; Mary was anxious about it, but I thought it might be useful.

I won't go into a lengthy discussion about what's happening to Mary, except to say that you, her natural father, are a very important person to her. I don't know if you realize how important.

A lot has taken place, but now she's a young woman who's about to get married. There are two ways you can help her. One is to let her know why you've stayed away from her.

What I'm asking for, if I could be so presumptuous, are your honest thoughts on this. What does it say about you? What does it say about your feelings for her? Mary has taken your absence on the most personal level-she believes that she is not lovable-and it would be wonderful if you could help her think differently about her value as a human being.

The other way you might help is to stay in touch with her-not just a single contact, and not necessarily every week or month, but regularly. I told Mary I'd be contacting you, but I wouldn't necessarily reveal what you told me. If you E-mail or phone me, you can tell me if you'd like me to share with her what you have to say.

I wish you well and hope you will take up this healing journey with your daughter. It would be more than any therapist could possibly do for her.

Regards, Dr. Spring Mr. Samuels E-mailed back, "I'm more than happy to help Mary in any way possible. A day has not pa.s.sed in almost twenty years that I haven't thought of her. I always a.s.sumed she wanted to keep me at a distance. I know her mother did. When they moved to another state, no one told me or gave me the new address. I think it would be very helpful if we spoke. E-mail me back with a good time to call you. I have no problem with your sharing anything we discuss with Mary, if you see fit."

In a phone call with him, I asked about his vasectomy comment.

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"What I said was that I never wanted any more more children," he told me. children," he told me.

I suggested that he write Mary a letter (sent to me, which I would screen before showing it to her), acknowledging how his comment must have sounded to her and apologizing for it. I added, "You can also explain what you meant, if you'd like. I think it would be good for her to have it in writing so she can read it over and over again. Your apology, I believe, is as important as your explanation, however."

He wrote: Dear Mary, I'm sorry for whatever I said that hurt you. I don't remember the exact words-it was years ago-but I know in my heart that what I meant to say was that "I never wanted more more children." That was the real reason I got a vasectomy. children." That was the real reason I got a vasectomy.

After you moved to Philadelphia, I fell apart. I missed you very much. Your mother didn't make it easy for me to see you, and I didn't feel good enough about myself to insist. It was at this point that I had the vasectomy. I was marrying Jane [his second wife, whom he later divorced], who didn't want children because she had diabetes and was afraid of pa.s.sing it on. I didn't want children either, because I had a wonderful daughter and I didn't want to go through the horror of losing another child to divorce. What you heard in that restaurant was a perversion of anything I ever believed or said. I love you and am thankful every day of my life that you were born.

Love, Dad Mary took all this in and began to correspond and meet with her father. They talked and talked. Slowly, as he proved his trustworthiness and demonstrated that he wasn't going to disappear again, she let him back into her life. As of today, she's still unsure how much of a relationship she wants with him and wonders who will walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. But she feels more Genuine Forgiveness 213.

resolved about the past. "I've forgiven him somewhat-enough-for what he's done, even though I still hurt when I think about it," she told me recently. "I feel better about myself and can see him as a decent, complicated dad who's had his share of problems-his alcohol addiction, his financial pressures, his injured pride at being replaced by another father. But what lets me forgive him is the work he's done since all this has come out in the open. He's convinced me that he's genuinely sorry, that he's angry at himself for his behavior, and that I mean something to him."

And so the delicate healing journey continues. Mary's father jump-started it by stepping forward and encouraging Mary to talk out her pain, then listening to her with a loving heart. Mary opened the door and invited him in to know her. She took the risk of telling him exactly how he had hurt her, and she allowed his behavior to redeem him in her eyes and earn him a place in her life.

This father-daughter story ill.u.s.trates the arduous, interactive, and deeply corrective work of Genuine Forgiveness. Through the offender's acts of contrition, he proves to you that he is not all evil, that he is more than the sum of his offenses. Through your efforts to let him heal you, you prove to him that you're not all condemning, that you're more than his judge. Together you detoxify the injury and relegate it to the periphery of your relationship. It becomes a chapter in your life, certainly not the best, but perhaps not the last or most central.

I recently attended a conference at Harvard Medical School on the topic of forgiveness-the first of its kind. I went with a mixture of anxiety and excitement, wondering how my ideas would hold up against what is currently accepted, and what I would learn about this complex, mysterious, universal topic.

What I discovered was that the work of forgiveness continues to be seen as something initiated and completed by the hurt party alone-in her head, in her heart, through her belief in a higher being, through her empathy and benevolence, through her need to relieve her suffering. Nothing is asked of the offender himself. This 214 threw me, particularly in light of growing evidence that humans heal in connection with a caring other. In restoring our bodies and souls, the power of being listened to with respect and compa.s.sion, of being part of a caring bond, is undisputed.

Herbert Benson, founder of Harvard's Mind/Body Inst.i.tute, presented a fascinating study demonstrating that hospitalized patients who were treated empathically tended to recover sooner than those who were treated more perfunctorily. When anesthesiologists spent time the night before surgery talking to their patients-answering their questions, attending to their anxieties-the patients reported less pain, needed less pain medication during their hospital stay, and left the hospital 2.7 days sooner than patients whose doctors provided just brief factual information about the upcoming procedure.52 The results of this study shouldn't surprise us. Care matters.

Kindness is conducive to good health. When someone takes interest in our pain, it helps us mend.

Armed with these conclusions, we need to ask ourselves certain questions. In recovering from a violation, why must we go it alone?

Wouldn't it make sense for the offender to spend as much time earning our forgiveness as we spend struggling to grant it? Since research shows that we're more likely to forgive those we feel close to, and since we're more likely to feel close to those who reach out to help us heal,53 shouldn't we ask the offender to partic.i.p.ate in the forgiveness process?

Clearly, a radical revision is in order. The time has come to formulate two concepts of forgiveness-one when the offender works to right his wrong, and the other when he does not. We must also learn to integrate what is often seen as "Christian" forgiveness, emphasizing empathy, humility, grat.i.tude, and mercy, with what is often seen as "Jewish" forgiveness, emphasizing justice, repentance, and atonement.

Regardless of our religious or secular beliefs, we are reminded by Harry Stack Sullivan that "we are all more simply human than otherwise." As human beings, we need to find ways to stop inflicting pain on ourselves and on each other.

Appendix HOW THE OFFENDER'S CHILDHOOD WOUNDS SHAPED.

THE WAY HE TREATED YOU.

In trying to understand the offender's behavior apart from anything you said or did, it helps to look into his past and speculate about his critical early life experiences.

Dr Jeffrey Young identifies five "core emotional needs"1 everyone must satisfy in order to develop into a healthy, well-adjusted individual. When these needs are frustrated, he points out, we develop a warped view of ourselves, of the world, and of others. The person who hurt you is likely to carry his share dysfunctional thoughts and feelings into adult life, and into his relationship with you.

I invite you to look at the following list of core emotional needs and ask yourself, "Which of them do I think the offender was deprived of?" Even if you know little or nothing about him, it may be helpful to consider his unmet emotional needs, if only to remind yourself that he has now, and always has had, a life independent of your own.

The five core emotional needs are: 216.

Appendix 1. Secure attachments to others 2. Autonomy, competence, and a sense of ident.i.ty 3. Freedom to express valid needs and emotions 4. Spontaneity and play 5. Realistic limits and self-control Someone who is deprived of any of these core needs is likely to react in one of three ways: surrender, avoidance, surrender, avoidance, or or overcompensation. overcompensation. These coping styles usually start out as healthy strategies that help the offender survive and adapt to toxic childhood situations. By the time you cross paths, however, these strategies may have become maladaptive and destructive. These coping styles usually start out as healthy strategies that help the offender survive and adapt to toxic childhood situations. By the time you cross paths, however, these strategies may have become maladaptive and destructive.

Let's take the example of a boy whose father abandoned his family for another woman.

If the boy adopts the coping pattern called surrender, surrender, he may grow up seeking out people who allow him to feel just as alone and unwanted as he felt when his father deserted him. He may find himself attracted to someone who isn't there for him, thus reopening familiar childhood wounds. he may grow up seeking out people who allow him to feel just as alone and unwanted as he felt when his father deserted him. He may find himself attracted to someone who isn't there for him, thus reopening familiar childhood wounds.

If he adopts the coping pattern called avoidance, avoidance, he may stay away from people who trigger disturbing memories or feelings from his early years. He may avoid relationships altogether. he may stay away from people who trigger disturbing memories or feelings from his early years. He may avoid relationships altogether.

If he adopts the third coping pattern, overcompensation, overcompensation, he may behave in ways that allow him to do battle against the painful thoughts and feelings he experienced as a child. For example, to overcome a sense of helplessness and the expectation of loss, he may take control of his life, preempt your abandoning him by abandoning you first, and throw himself into a series of affairs designed to reduce his dependence on anyone. he may behave in ways that allow him to do battle against the painful thoughts and feelings he experienced as a child. For example, to overcome a sense of helplessness and the expectation of loss, he may take control of his life, preempt your abandoning him by abandoning you first, and throw himself into a series of affairs designed to reduce his dependence on anyone.

People who surrender to their painful experiences are less likely to hurt you than those who practice avoidance. Those who practice avoidance are less likely to hurt you than those who overcompensate.

Let's look at each of the five core needs and try to determine which of them the person who hurt you was deprived of, how he coped with his deprivation, and how his coping strategy may have Appendix Appendix 217.

hurt you. What matters is not that you distinguish every coping pattern but that you recognize how the offender's behavior may predate you, and learn not take it too personally.

CORE EMOTIONAL NEED #1:.

SECURE ATTACHMENTS TO OTHERS.

We all seek a sense of connection and the feelings that come with it-stability, safety, acceptance, nurturance, empathy, respect. If the offender was stunted by any of the following traumatic experiences, particularly in his early years, he is less likely to form satisfying, enduring attachments as an adult: * Abandonment * Mistrust and abuse * Emotional deprivation * A sense of personal defectiveness (disapproval, censure, and reproach) * Social exclusion Abandonment If the person who hurt you was abandoned, physically or emotionally, by a parent, he is likely to treat you in one of the three ways we discussed above. First, he may surrender to his expectation of abandonment. This could take the form of clinging to you with possessive jealousy if he feels insecure about your love, or fleeing to a more depriving, abusive relationship if he feels that your love is too safe or too sure. Second, he may avoid the pain of rejection by refusing to get close to anyone, including you, no matter how caring and committed you are. Third, he may overcompensate by detaching from you and denying his need for connection, or by abusing you in the same way in which he himself was abused.

Matt and Judy, a couple in their mid-thirties, were both abandoned as children, but they resorted to different coping strategies as adults. Matt fought his unmet need for connection by 218 Appendix overcompensating-making his wife feel as irrelevant and unwanted as he had felt as a child. Judy responded by surrendering-tolerating a partner who made her feel as irrelevant and unwanted as she had experienced herself as a child. While he disavowed any need for a family, she desperately sought one.

When I met Judy, she was pregnant for the first time and had just had an ultrasound test. The fetus was doing well, but Judy was in tears. "I got Matt to come with me to the radiologist's office," she said, "but he was so bored, he couldn't keep his eyes open. Then he started flirting with the technician. Maybe he'll add her to his list of conquests."

Judy tied herself in knots, wondering, "What's wrong with me?

Why am I not good enough for him?" She found some answers when she looked into his past.

"Matt's father was an alcoholic," she told me. "His mother walked out on him a month after he was born and then drank herself into a clinical depression. Matt can't do enough to push me away, but he's not as cold as he pretends to be. He's just terrified of believing in us, in life, in the idea that two people can love each other and be loyal and supportive. I understand his tortured past and feel really sorry for him. But my understanding goes only so far-I'm not his therapist, I'm his wife-and I'm not going to let him destroy the way I feel about myself anymore. I'm going to have the baby and get on with my life. Our early wounds may be similar, but we've ended up in different places."

In the end, Judy came to accept Matt for who he was and what he had done to her through no fault of her own. She also decided to terminate the marriage, six months after the baby was born. Acceptance, she saw, did not require reconciliation.

Mistrust and Abuse If the offender suffered physical or verbal abuse, he may come to believe that a relationship is a dangerous, unpredictable place where personal boundaries are violated, and grow up treating everyone, including you, with mistrust. Surrendering to childhood patterns, he may find himself drawn to bullies who allow him to experience him-Appendix 219.

self in ways that are seductively familiar. Or, seeking to avoid further abuse, he may stand guard over himself and refuse to let you get too close. He may also hide from the damage that was done to him. This was what the mother of my patient Sharon did.

Sharon grew up being s.e.xually abused by her half-brother, and hating her mother for not protecting her. When Sharon came to see me, she had just learned that her mother had been s.e.xually abused herself as a child, and that her failure to rescue Sharon was part of a deeply entrenched defense, based on denial and repression.