Seeking Validation and Forgiveness When There’s No Remorse
Alice shares her thoughts about paving a way forward to find peace when the person who caused harm shows no remorse.
I haven’t seen my brother in 30 years. The last time I saw him, I wrote about in Resolve, in the chapter The Lioness Appears. No one in my family ever talked about that day, not until years later when I would respond to a comment with, “That was because of the abuse, remember. I told you that.” The only topic they seemed willing to discuss was how to “get around Alice not wanting to have Christmas with the family.”
Years later, I learned that my brother had told family members not to mention my name around his current wife — he didn’t want her to know I existed. They agreed, keeping me a secret. I became… what? An erasure? A hidden truth? At some point, he apparently scoffed that “Mum never said a word about it… she’s gutless.”
Remorse wasn’t part of my brother’s makeup. And yet, I still carried the desire for validation.
Understanding the Desire for Validation
I still don’t expect remorse. But sometimes I imagine what it would feel like. I imagine the release it might bring — like a deep exhale after years of holding my breath. A silence in my mind where a constant murmur has whispered and worried.
I’ve read case studies where therapy sessions evolve into bringing in the person who caused harm, testing whether they can express remorse. Parents are sometimes included, too, to show their strengths or their weaknesses with a therapist present. Whether or not remorse is expressed, these moments often give survivors a crucial puzzle piece. They witness something that helps them release the expectation that others will bring them peace. Instead, they learn that peace comes from within.
Seeking validation from the abuser or family members is natural. It feels like it would bring closure, an acknowledgment that the pain we carry is real. It’s also a longing for justice—to hear an apology, see accountability, and know they understand the harm they caused.
But what if that validation never comes?
Forgiveness Without Apology
In the words of Dr. Scott Eilers, “Forgiveness is not something you give to your abuser; it’s something you give to yourself.”
Forgiveness takes on a new meaning here. It’s not about excusing the actions of the abuser or pretending the pain didn’t happen. It’s about breaking free from the emotional chains that tie you to the trauma. Holding onto anger or waiting for an apology might keep you stuck. Forgiveness, in this sense, is about finding peace for yourself, without needing validation from the person who harmed you.
You may never receive an apology. You may never fully understand why they did what they did. And you may never feel like the damage has been acknowledged. But releasing the expectation that they will “make it right” is a step toward reclaiming your own beautiful life.
Restorative Justice When Remorse is Absent
Restorative justice is often about bringing the harmed and the person who caused harm together to find healing. But what happens when the abuser shows no remorse? When there is no desire for redemption on their part?
For survivors, restorative justice becomes an internal process—about restoring yourself, your values, and your boundaries. The justice isn’t theirs to give; it’s yours to create.
Sometimes, this might mean writing a letter to the person who harmed you, not to send, but to express what you’ve never had the chance to say. What would you want them to know about the impact of their actions? How would it feel to write those words down, even if they never see them?
The Role of Family Dynamics
Family dynamics often make this even more complicated. My mother, for example, has ended countless conversations with, “You have to understand, he’s my son.” And every time, my inner child cries out, “Mum, can you ever just once say, He has to understand that you’re my daughter!”
This dismissal of pain, prioritising the abuser’s comfort over the survivor’s truth, shapes relationships for decades. It’s common for families to guilt survivors into silence, to preserve a facade of harmony. But at what cost?
Sometimes, healing requires stepping away from those who refuse to see the truth. It’s not a failure—it’s self-protection.
Journaling Prompts: Finding Your Own Resolution
If this feels overwhelming, trust your intuition. Practice self-care and seek support if needed.
- What would you need to hear from your abuser to feel validated? Write this out, knowing it may never come but recognising that you deserve to feel heard.
- How does the lack of an apology affect your healing process? Explore the emotions tied to waiting for remorse, and consider how you can find closure within yourself.
- Write a letter to your abuser. Say what you need to say, without holding back. Reflect on how it feels to have those words on paper.
- How do the family dynamics around your disclosure affect your healing? What boundaries do you need to put in place to protect yourself?
- What does justice look like for you, knowing an apology may never come? How can you restore your peace, your boundaries, and your sense of self?
Final Reflection
Naming my memoir Resolve was intentional. It reflects the inner strength I carried, even as a little girl. The strength to keep standing, even when no one believed me. The strength to risk speaking out, even when I was dismissed. The strength to protect myself, to find my voice, and to live a life true to who I am—not defined by what was done to me.
We all have our own resolve. It’s what keeps us moving forward, even when the path is unclear. Healing doesn’t require anyone else’s permission or validation. It’s a choice we make for ourselves.
What is your resolve? How will you use it to reclaim your story and your future?
Shared with love,
Alice
Community News
I’ve been quiet on the blog front for the past two weeks, but only because I’ve been fully immersed in co-creating moments that I know I’ll look back on as life-changing — not just for me, but for others as well. These projects are built from connections, courage, and a collective mission to create real change.
For starters, I’m working with a dear soul I met through Instagram because I wrote Resolve. Together, we’re launching You Are Not Alone: The Alice & Quinn Podcast. Conversations matter, and if even one listener feels validated, heard, or supported by tuning in, that’s a win for both Quinn and me.
The inaugural Blue Borage Conversation Café, a safe space for courageous conversations I facilitated and co-created with a panel of three other lived-experience authors, was an incredible space. The questions flowed from every corner of the audience, and it was so easy to respond — because when you’ve lived it, you just know. It was a powerful reminder of the strength and wisdom we carry within ourselves, shaped by what we’ve endured and overcome.
If you’d like to join the four authors, we and our memoirs will be spotlighted at events between February and May (PS. I go last in May). Please head to the Collection of Events on Eventbrite to reserve your spot, pose a question to the author, and meet us in Zoom. All authors will be present for every event, and we are keeping them intimate, safe, and professionally facilitated, so reserve your spot, receive a calendar invitation, and you’ll be kept informed before, during and after each event.
Now, connections are sparking globally
Advocacy groups, researchers, and lived experience leaders in the UK are eager for a UK-time-friendly Blue Borage Conversation Café series. Plans are already in motion to align this with the series we began last week. If you’re in the UK, these events will also be shared on Blue Borage’s Eventbrite page, so follow them, and you’ll be first to hear of the dates.
Thriving Survivors in Glasgow shared their vision to take last year’s much acclaimed SSA-focused conference international by late 2025. Last Friday I had the privilege of joining a screen full of lived experience voices from around the world to hear their visionary CEO’s plan. To see and feel this global momentum is incredible. Follow Thriving Survivors on social media or LinkedIn to hear their news.
So twice last week, I felt at ease in the space of so many lived experienced people and allies — not just as my pen name, but as me.
One final piece of exciting news
My abstract: From Silence to Empowerment: Preventing Harm and Empowering Survivors of Sibling Sexual Abuse was accepted for a poster presentation at the International Childhood Trauma Conference in Melbourne this August. I have no idea what a poster presentation entails, but I’m ready to find out.
Whether it’s podcasts, conversation cafés, posters, or conferences, every platform is an opportunity to make a difference. If it helps even one person feel less alone, it’s worth it.
Thank you for being here with me on this journey. I’m taking one baby step at a time — sometimes forward, sometimes sideways, but always moving. My mentor emailed me this morning to say, “The abstract is not a baby step, that is a leap!” I smiled and typed back, “Yes it is, this has taken decades to bring to a stage where I can share it. Decades of many, many baby steps.”
To those of you reading this, I encourage you to keep taking your own steps, no matter how small they feel. Whether it’s in your healing, advocacy, personal growth, or professional work, every baby step matters. One day, you’ll look back and see just how far you’ve come.
With gratitude,
Alice