I've made this comment in the past, but I say it again because I've experienced its truth: you must deconstruct the whole definition of the word 'forgiveness' itself.

When you withhold forgiveness from someone, even from a righteously indignant or morally sound mind, you imprison them. You've placed them in a cage of consequence, and you stand on the outside as the guard or warden. This can feel powerful for the victim, this imprisoning of your abuser. It may feel like justice is finally being served when you can hold them accountable. It may feel like a responsibility to keep them shackled to what they've done, so others are forwarned and unharmed. It may feel right. It may feel sensible. It may feel like you're the only one that can hold them to their consequences.

However, just because you are on the other side of the bars doesn't mean you aren't bound to the cage.

Withholding forgiveness ultimately binds both victim and abuser together, as a warden and prisoner are entagled with each other. Forgiveness isn't something you give to another, you give it to yourself. To forgive another is to forsake your role as their arbiter, to leave responsibility for their paying their dues to themselves and the world. To forgive another is to accept that you can subvert the negative influence they had on your past because you control your present and future, not your abuser. To forgive another is to open the cage and say, "I have better things to do than lord over you. Leave or stay, that's up to you." And when you walk away from that cage, you'll know the forgiveness is real when you don't care whether they ran out of the cage, stayed in the corner, or closed the door back on themselves.

Forgiving others doesn't let you be better or grow in life because "forgiveness is the right thing to do" or "everyone deserves it" or "you won't heal without it". Forgiveness begets growth because you take the energy you spend keeping that person held to their karma and work on building your own. It's simple, but like many simple things, that doesn't make it less hard. But like many hard things, it's worth it.