Mercy in Relationship
Mercy is the concrete action of love that, by forgiving, transforms and changes our lives.
We all have our pet peeves. For some, it’s drivers who don’t use their turn signals. For others, it’s punctuality (I may or may not fall into both categories). One of my biggest pet peeves, however—whether shaped by my upbringing, my life experiences, my work as a therapist, or all three—is the phrase “forgive and forget.”
THE PROBLEM WITH FORGIVE AND FORGET
When we pause to really consider it, this phrase can feel deeply dismissive to both parties involved. For the injured partner, it implies they should simply move on. For the partner who caused the harm, it offers no real resolution. The issue is bypassed, swept aside in an effort to return to “normal.”
The reality is that many couples resolve conflict this way because truly engaging the issue requires emotional bandwidth—and vulnerability. And I get it. Saying “sorry” and moving on is far easier than sitting together in the discomfort of a conflict and exploring its deeper dynamics. “Forgive and forget” feels simpler. But as the old saying goes, it’s easier… until it isn’t.
An occasional unaddressed incident may not feel like a big deal. Over time, however, these unresolved hurts accumulate. Couples fall out of the habit of addressing conflict altogether, and both partners become increasingly self-protective—afraid of being hurt but left alone with no resolution. The result is less communication, less connection, and greater isolation.
There are, theoretically, two alternatives to the “forgive and forget” approach. The first would be to never experience conflict. I have yet to meet a couple who has mastered that, so we’ll move quickly to option number two: mercy.
UNDERSTANDING FORGIVENESS
Mercy and forgiveness are often used interchangeably, but in my experience, while they are closely connected, mercy adds something essential. Together, mercy and forgiveness have the power to transform relationships.
When I think of mercy, my mind immediately goes to Les Miserables -- specifically the powerful scene involving Jean Valjean and the bishop. Valjean, a parolee, is arrested after stealing silver from the very bishop who had welcomed him into his home and fed him the night before. When the police return Valjean to the bishop to confirm the theft, the bishop does something astonishing: he tells the authorities that the silver was a gift—and that Valjean had forgotten to take the most valuable pieces. He then insists on Valjean’s release.
After the guards leave, the bishop looks Valjean in the eyes, calls him his brother, and blesses him. Valjean is stunned—not only by what has happened, but by what it reveals about the life he has been living. In that moment, something shifts. He realizes he cannot continue down the same path. Valjean goes on to live a life of sacrifice and virtue, ultimately earning the bishop’s approval at the end of his life.
This is the power of mercy. Mercy is the concrete action of love that, by forgiving, transforms and changes our lives.
Les Misérables has endured for generations because it speaks so profoundly to the human experience. And scenes like this are not reserved for literature or Broadway stages. They are possible in our own relationships.
THE THREE COMPONENTS OF MERCY
From my perspective, mercy in relationships consists of three interconnected components:
1. Acknowledgment of the injury
2. Certainty of acceptance
3. An instilled belief in future capability (empowerment)
Each component builds upon the others, flowing together rather than existing in a rigid sequence. All three are essential. Let’s explore them.
Acknowledgement of the Injury
The first component of mercy is acknowledging the injury itself. This may sound obvious, but it can be surprisingly difficult—especially in relationships where “forgive and forget” has long been the norm. When two people are not accustomed to addressing hurt openly, vulnerability can feel unsafe. Questions arise: Will my partner be offended if I bring this up? What if they don’t accept my pain? Can I really listen if they point out where I failed?
When vulnerability hasn’t felt safe, this first step—simple acknowledgment—can feel daunting. And without it, mercy cannot take root.
Certainty of Acceptance
This brings us to the second component: certainty of acceptance.
When I know that my partner loves me for who I am—especially in my weaknesses and darker corners—I open in ways I otherwise couldn’t. My vulnerabilities are no longer dangerous. Because I am loved there, I am able to offer that same love in return.
This kind of love isn’t “mushy” or sentimental. Authentic love often includes naming hurt. In fact, consider how profound it is when a partner trusts you enough—feels accepted enough—to show you how you’ve caused them pain. That level of honesty reflects deep trust and communicates “you are forgiven, ” which is central to mercy. It simultaneously communicates “I do not define you by this action, so much so that I want you in this hurt with me.” When we can take a few steps back, and I am looking in the mirror as I say this, this is simply incredible.
Still, mercy doesn’t stop here.
Belief in future capability
The third component is an instilled belief in future capability. When I know that my mistake does not define me—when I believe it, and more importantly, when I know my partner believes it—we are no longer alone in our shame or fear. We don’t spiral into narratives of “I always mess up” or “I don’t deserve love.” Instead, we are empowered to grow.
We become willing to take risks, to try again, to face our fears—because we know we can fail without being reduced to our failure. I believe in myself, in my partner, and in us.
When all three components are engaged—acknowledgment of injury, certainty of acceptance, and belief in future capability—relationships are transformed. Mercy becomes a lived experience, not just an idea.
This is the power of mercy.
A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE OF MERCY
In my own life, I have been fortunate to receive mercy from another. One such moment occurred about six years ago, during a season marked by a significant life change. I was left feeling conflicted, confused, guilty—and carrying what felt like every emotion imaginable. In response, I withdrew and isolated myself from friends and family.
After nearly seven months, I finally found the emotional stamina to visit specific friends whom I consider family. Despite them never expressing disappointment, I carried a deep sense of having let them down. When I sat with them, I apologized to both the mother and father for my absence and for isolating myself.
They looked at me and simply said, “We love you. Just come.”
In that moment, with all the guilt and shame I had been carrying—both from the life decision itself and from my prolonged absence—they made something very clear: I was still loved, and I was still wanted. Their response did not minimize my struggle, nor did it ignore my prolonged absence. They acknowledged the injury, they loved me and accepted me with all of my faults and struggles, and they empowered me to face the weight I had been carrying and to reengage with life differently.
They offered me mercy—and it changed me. Mercy is the concrete action of love that, by forgiving, transforms and changes our lives.
HOW DO WE GET THERE?
Upon reading this, the question can be raised: How do we get there? If mercy requires giving something I may not have received, are we stuck? As another old saying goes (and yes, I love old sayings), you cannot give what you do not have.
As couples break cycles of emotional unsafety and rediscover the capacity they’ve always had to love one another- the relationship becomes a source of connection. Conflict becomes less frightening because partners now know, through lived experience, that the partner accepts me, forgives me, and believes in me, and because of this I will not be left in the dark about a possible injury in the relationship. This is empowering!!! This process does require work—but it is not unrealistic or unattainable.
After all, the scene in Les Misérables involved two men who had known each other for less than twelve hours, yet the impact was life-changing. If that is possible, imagine what mercy can do in relationships that have lasted one year, five years, twenty-five years—or even fifty. Mercy is the concrete action of love that, by forgiving, transforms and changes our lives.
