When someone hurts you, you deserve to have the people who hurt you acknowledge the harm done. You are entitled to a sincere apology from someone who expresses remorse and regret. You have every right to have the perpetrator of abuse participate in a real repair process that leads to restorative justice, such that both the victim and the perpetrator feel restored.
Yet, many perpetrators of abuse are not interested in admitting wrongdoing, apologizing, fully empathizing with the impact of the harm they’ve caused, making real attempts to make sure the harm never happens again, making amends, and restoring their victims as best they can. Many go to their grave swearing they didn’t do it, denying the abuse, attacking the person who tries to hold them accountable, and blaming their victims. And then, to make matters worse, the burden of forgiveness is often placed on the victim, rather than expecting the perpetrator to do what real forgiveness requires- relational repair.
If this is your story, you’re not alone. You’re not crazy. You’re not too sensitive. And you’re not failing your spiritual path by wanting accountability. What you’re feeling is real. What happened to you matters. And you’re allowed to want something better—for yourself, and for all those who’ve ever been silenced, minimized, or gaslit when they tried to speak their truth.
Life isn’t always fair. The injustices we experience can cause us to give up on seeking justice when we’ve been harmed. Especially if we’ve spiritualized our lack of justice-seeking, if we’ve inflated ourselves by thinking that people who seek justice are less spiritual or more mean-spirited than those who just forgive and forget
Most of us, if we live long enough, have been both victims and perpetrators of harmful wrongdoing. How do we work with holding ourselves and others accountable? How do we avoid blaming only ourselves and avoiding confronting the people who’ve hurt us? How do we make sure we don’t pass on the generational wounds to our own children? How do we make real repair and find ways of seeking justice while still practicing IFS and being compassionate for both our own parts and the parts of those who hurt us, in a trauma-informed way?
This course won’t hand you simplistic answers or quick-fix techniques. Instead, it invites you into a brave, sacred exploration of the real terrain of healing when justice feels out of reach. It’s a journey of becoming whole—by letting every part of you have a voice, including the parts that are angry, betrayed, longing, and afraid. With care, community, and IFS as your guide, you’ll learn how to navigate this complexity without losing yourself in it.