Many years ago, while I was still in high school, our Romanian language and literature teacher assigned us the task of writing a framed story, complete with characters and a plot of our choosing.

I can’t recall the specifics of the narrative I crafted, but I remember that the storyline revolved around the idea of a second chance: a troubled teenager, plagued by a mistake he had made, finds his life miraculously reset, his past actions erased, and he is given the opportunity to start anew as if nothing bad had ever happened.

The crux of the story was to capture the struggle of an individual against their old habits and the possibility of a fresh beginning, free from the temptations and pitfalls of past mistakes.

Unfortunately, our teacher’s feedback never materialised, with the explanation that “the papers had been lost.” We students suspected that this excuse masked the harsh reality that our feeble attempts at creative writing weren’t even worth discussing in class.

Deprived of an expert opinion on the artistic value of our works, we simply moved on. None of us had ambitions of becoming writers, so the absence of critique didn’t discourage us—in fact, quite the opposite.

Reluctant to start over

Years later, while working with individuals facing difficulties due to unfavourable conditions compounded by their own life choices, I realised that we, as humans, are indeed resistant to the idea of starting over. Even when a helping hand is extended, we either don’t see ourselves as deserving of the support or doubt our strength to rebuild a better life, step by step. A third, less desirable and more pessimistic scenario suggests that we refuse change due to a tendency to victimise ourselves.

This isn’t about situations where someone is literally a victim of aggression, calamities, injustice, or mistreatment, nor about chronic self-victimisation, that stable personality trait that severely distorts reality. Rather, it’s about those critical moments when we consciously place ourselves below our chances and opportunities, erroneously underestimating our own strength.

A victim of people and circumstances

A person’s tendency to describe themselves as a victim of people or circumstances can stem from their need for safety and control. In other words, amidst a series of uncontrollable events, we cling to a single thought, which then transforms into a certainty, a belief, and a life philosophy: very few things that happen to us are within our control; most come from external sources.

When taken to extremes, this self-defence mechanism against seemingly insurmountable difficulties keeps a person in a state of inertia, weakening both their capacity and responsibility for personal choices. For those who see themselves as victims, others are always to blame for what they lack, do not want, or cannot achieve. The solution to their problems always lies outside themselves, never within.

On one hand, adopting a passive role in their own lives spares them the effort of seeking change, but on the other hand, it forces them to endure the ongoing torment of an unsatisfactory existence.

Practice makes perfect

Around us, we see varying examples of people corrupted by this mentality: dissatisfied employees who take no steps toward a career change; women lamenting their partner’s infidelities who remain in the role of the “martyr” wife; men affected by material deficiencies who seek only scapegoats, not solutions.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we can find such examples in our own lives. How often have we accepted an unpleasant situation simply because it was easier to stay put than to make consistent, serious, and conscious efforts toward change?

It’s not just laziness that dictates the complacent behaviour of those unwilling to help themselves but also repeating the same pattern over and over. However, just as the inertia linked to a victim mentality is learned gradually and imperceptibly, it can also be unlearned.

Flexibility in thought and action

First and foremost, an honest self-assessment, examining the tendencies that define us, can contribute to the realistic outlook necessary for a change in perspective.

Whenever needed, we must remind ourselves that, despite our fears, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities, we have an inexhaustible resource: a willpower that can be exercised like muscles at the gym. This willpower can be harnessed to open new chapters when the present no longer satisfies us.

It’s not wrong to involve close friends in our introspective exercise. A well-argued and well-intentioned opinion from a “critical eye” can highlight aspects of our personality that we might overlook. Similarly, seeking input from trusted individuals to gain a different perspective is valuable. Their objective view can translate what we experience subjectively from within the situation. Moreover, it is perfectly acceptable to seek divine guidance and inspiration to become more adept in this process of embracing change—whether it’s a change in mentality, attitude, or behaviour.

From the midst of the action, many things can seem definitive and irrevocable; from the sidelines, they often don’t. Considering other perspectives requires developing a certain flexibility of thought and action, letting go of the idea that everything is set in stone and that tomorrow will be just like today.

“I’ll forgive, but I won’t forget”

A mindset of victimhood is often induced by the belief that humans have a series of hard or even impossible limits to overcome. This belief can be internalised in two ways: it can lead to underestimating our own strengths and to passivity, and it can also influence our attitude toward others, particularly those who have wronged us.

In everyday life, you often hear the phrase, “I’ll forgive, but I won’t forget.” In other words, “If you’ve wronged me, we can be friends again, but don’t expect me to wipe the slate clean because I won’t forget your transgressions anytime soon.”

The verdict of “unforgiveness”

This approach illustrates our lack of trust in the other person’s willingness and ability to genuinely change. It also reveals our refusal to give them a second chance.

Everyone has their own guide or value system that serves as a compass when evaluating and weighing the mistakes of those who have wronged them.

For one person, a friend’s lie might be seen as a harmless slip, while for another, the same lie could be deemed unforgivable. In most cases, subjectivity comes into play, with the final judgement influenced by the nature of the relationship, set expectations, and the severity and consequences of the wrongdoing.

Unfortunately, such sensitive occurrences are common between parents and children, siblings, spouses, friends, colleagues, and neighbours. These issues are almost inevitable in human relationships, leading to deep-seated feelings like distrust, resentment, anger, desire for revenge, and the impression that things can never be the same again.

Given the personal impact, not everyone can easily overcome episodes of betrayal or disappointment from those close to them. When we factor in personal pride, the verdict of “unforgiveness” becomes certain and unyielding.

Adding to this recipe of unforgiveness or partial forgiveness (which doesn’t forget) is the label of victim we assign to the person who is earnestly seeking rehabilitation: a victim of their own limits, choices, and mistakes.

When judged solely by their mistakes, a person can become inseparable from the action that caused us discomfort, loss, or suffering. This makes it difficult to restore them to their previous standing before the “fall.”

People can change

While it’s true that trust, once lost, is hard to rebuild, there are examples that show individuals can transform if they truly desire it.

In his book 27 Steps, endurance runner Tibi Ușeriu recounts his journey from being a convicted armed robber in a maximum-security prison to becoming the gentle, free spirit he is today, dedicated to running and promoting volunteerism among youth as a way to transform himself and those around him.

Each person decides how to respond to those who wrong them: with disdain, indifference, harshness, rejection, criticism, or revenge. Or, conversely, with understanding, calm, patience, maturity, wisdom, and flexibility.

Forgiveness should not be a negotiable value, not just for its well-documented benefits—strengthening relationships, reducing depression, anxiety, and stress, lowering blood pressure, boosting the immune system, improving heart health, and increasing self-esteem—but also because a second chance is undeniably an expression of divine love, the ultimate proof that new beginnings are possible and achievable.

In this context, we can interpret the plea “…and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matthew 6:12) as a dual invitation to change: personal transformation and the transformation of those who deserve another chance.

Genia Ruscu holds a master’s degree in counselling in the field of social work.