How to Heal When the Apology Never Comes
Dear Curious Christie and Ms. Resilient,
I’m struggling to forgive my sister-in-law, and it’s eating at me. Last year, during a family gathering, I confided in her about a rough patch my partner and I were going through. A week later, my mother-in-law called to “check in,” repeating details I’d only shared with my sister-in-law. My stomach dropped. When I confronted her, she laughed it off and said, “Oh, I didn’t think it was a secret,” like it was nothing. No real apology. Just a shrug and a subject change.
Since then, things have been tense. We still see each other at family events, birthdays, holidays—you name it—and she acts like everything’s normal. I act polite, but inside, I’m still angry. Every smile feels fake. I know holding onto resentment is hurting me more than it’s hurting her, but letting go feels like saying what she did was okay.
I’ve read all the advice about forgiveness being “for yourself,” and I understand it in theory—but in practice, it feels impossible. I mean, who hasn’t seen the “Let Them” movement plastered across their Instagram feed? It all sounds empowering… until it’s your actual family, and you’re the one pretending it doesn’t still sting. How do I forgive someone who isn’t even sorry?
~ Still Carrying It
Dear Still Carrying It,
There’s a special kind of ache that comes from realizing family—the place that’s supposed to feel safest—suddenly doesn’t. When someone inside that circle breaks your confidence and then shrugs it off, it doesn’t just sting; it shakes your sense of safety. You start replaying every detail in your head: Am I overreacting? Was I unclear? Who can I trust?
The truth is, you’re not crazy, and you’re not cruel for feeling angry. Healing from this kind of betrayal isn’t a quick fix—it’s a process, and it doesn’t start with pretending you’re OK with what your sister-in-law did. She crossed a line and broke your trust. That deserves acknowledgment, even if you’ll never get it from her.
Letting go isn’t about excusing her behavior; it’s about freeing yourself from it. Because right now, she’s still taking up space in your body, your mind, and your heart—and she hasn’t earned that rent-free residency.
Here’s how you start to shift this—slowly, gently, in your own time. Acknowledge the wound. Get clear on what actually hurts and why. Writing it down helps—when you can name it, you loosen resentment’s grip. Then protect your boundaries. Forgiveness doesn’t mean flinging the door wide open. You can still decide that specific conversations are off-limits. Finally, let go of the fantasy that she’ll ever give you the apology you deserve. Mourn that truth—it is a loss—but once you name it, you can begin to set it down.
You’re allowed to both forgive and remember. You’re allowed to be polite and hold your boundaries. Most of all, you’re allowed to stop carrying what was never yours to fix.
With compassion (and permission to set down the weight),
Curious Christie
Ms. Resilient offers her perspective using Dovetail Learning’s approach:
Dear Still Carrying It,
Christie’s thoughtful response captures a beautiful beginning to Dovetail Learning’s Centering Skill of Letting Go. For our deeper pains, Letting Go isn’t a single act; it’s a gentle unfolding with four stages that help you move from pain toward peace: Letting In, Letting Be, Letting Go, and Letting Come.
First comes Letting In—allowing yourself to feel what’s true. You’ve already done this by naming what happened and recognizing your anger and hurt rather than burying them. That’s courage. You’re acknowledging, “Yes, this wound is real, and it matters.”
Then, Letting Be invites you to sit with the discomfort without rushing to fix or forgive. It’s the stage of compassionately observing your emotions—recognizing that healing takes time and doesn’t require pretending everything’s fine.
When your heart is ready, Letting Go begins. This isn’t about erasing what happened—it’s about releasing the emotional hold it has on you. As Christie said, you can stop letting your sister-in-law take up space in your mind and body—she doesn’t deserve that power.
Finally, Letting Come opens the door to what’s next—perhaps it’s new boundaries that arise once the old weight starts to lift. It’s the space where you might rediscover your strength, your compassion, or a deeper trust in yourself.
Letting Go doesn’t mean forgetting or excusing. It means honoring your own wellbeing enough to move forward lighter, wiser, and freer. You are not letting her off the hook—you are letting yourself come home.
With warmth and faith in your healing,
Ms. Resilient
What advice do you have for Still Carrying It? Share in the comments or send to ms@dovetaillearning.org and we may feature your answer in a future column.
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Great topic and great answer as always. At the same time, I wish there was some acknowledgement of the importance of sharing one's hurt to the person who caused that hurt. There is a real possibility that this relative really had no idea of the hurt he or she caused. Maybe the person was never raised to honor such confidences, or doesn't fully understand private boundaries. But that person will never learn to honor boundaries unless they are shown where they lie. So, as difficult as such conversations are, I suggest that - in addition to Letting Go - we also share the 'hurt' for that is how lasting mutual healing and restitution can happen - and is actually a key element of Restorative Justice.