Why Cheap Forgiveness Doesn’t Work

Woman turned away in quiet tension while her partner watches with concern, illustrating the unresolved hurt beneath cheap forgiveness or counterfeit forgiveness

Cheap forgiveness looks like healing. It sounds like healing. Someone says “I forgive you,” the tension eases—at least on the surface—and everyone seems to move on. But underneath, nothing has actually changed—and that gap between what’s said and what’s real is where the damage lives.

Author Janis Abrahms-Spring, in her book How Can I Forgive You?, identifies cheap forgiveness as one of the ways we try to address hurt without actually resolving it: a quick pardon granted without coming to terms with what happened or how it happened in the first place. It’s the first of several forgiveness patterns worth understanding—including refusing to forgive at all, healing when there’s no apology, and the kind of genuine forgiveness that actually repairs a relationship.

Here, we’ll look at where cheap forgiveness comes from, why it doesn’t hold up over time, and what it costs the people caught in it.

(Prefer to watch instead of read? The video below covers the same ground.)

What is Cheap Forgiveness?

Cheap forgiveness is a pardon granted before the real work happens—before there’s any honest reckoning with what was done, or how it came to happen in the first place. The words are said. The apology, if there was one, gets accepted. But nothing underneath actually shifts: no real remorse, no empathy for what the hurt actually cost, no understanding of what needs to change—and so nothing does.

That’s what makes it cheap: not that the forgiveness itself is insincere in the moment, but that it skips the part that would have made it durable.

Not every quick “it’s okay” is cheap forgiveness—letting a small, low-stakes moment go without much discussion is often just proportionate. Cheap forgiveness is what happens when that same quick pass gets applied to something that actually needed a real reckoning. And the line between the two isn’t always obvious in the moment—especially if minimizing hurt has quietly become a habit, for either person.

Where Cheap Forgiveness Comes From

Cheap forgiveness doesn’t come from bad intentions. Most people who grant it too quickly are trying, in their own way, to protect the relationship. It just doesn’t work the way they hope. A few patterns tend to be behind it:

Conflict avoidance. Most of us don’t enjoy conflict, so “let’s just move on” can feel like the kinder, easier path. For small friction points, that might be true. But for anything that actually cut deep, the relationship needs more than a quick pardon to really recover—skipping the harder conversation doesn’t make the hurt disappear, it just buries it. This can unintentionally plants the seeds for resentment, distance, and eroding trust.

Passive-aggressive patterns. This happens when the words “I forgive you” get said, but the hurt doesn’t actually leave—it just stops being spoken aloud. The other person keeps paying for it in smaller, indirect ways: a cooler tone, a withheld closeness, a resentment that surfaces sideways instead of directly. Nothing gets addressed, so nothing gets resolved.

Coercion and confusion. In relationships where a partner is dealing with addiction or is emotionally abusive, cheap forgiveness can come from somewhere much harder: being made to doubt your own experience. The person causing harm may insist nothing’s really wrong, or that the problem is being blown out of proportion. Over time, this can leave the person being hurt uncertain whether their pain is even legitimate—which makes cheap forgiveness less of a choice and more of a survival response. If that sounds familiar, individual counseling for relationship issues can help you start trusting your own perception again, even before the relationship itself changes.

A history of feeling unworthy. Sometimes cheap forgiveness reaches back further than the relationship it’s happening in. When someone has spent years—growing up, or in earlier relationships—feeling unseen, unwanted, or misunderstood by the people who were supposed to matter most, it’s easy to absorb the belief that this is simply what they deserve. They may want something different without quite believing they’re allowed to ask for it. So when the hurt happens again, forgiveness comes fast—not because anything’s actually been resolved, but because expecting better has never really felt like an option.

The Cost of Cheap Forgiveness

Whatever the source, cheap forgiveness doesn’t lead to safety, growth, or real healing. It comes at a real cost—just one that’s easy to miss at first, because on the surface, things look calm.

Cheap forgiveness is a little like sweeping broken glass under a rug. The mess is out of sight, but the sharp edges are still there—and everyone keeps walking on them. The cuts keep happening. The hurt doesn’t resolve, it just gets swept back under. And nothing about the relationship actually improves.

In the short term, cheap forgiveness can feel like the easier option—the path of least resistance. But over time, it tends to take a toll in one or more of the same ways: quiet resentment, distance, and distrust that build without an outlet; a slow erosion of self-worth, where the person who keeps forgiving too easily starts to wonder if they’re even allowed to expect better. For some, that’s not new ground—it’s a familiar pattern getting reinforced, not just started.

A Counterfeit of Mercy

Cheap forgiveness can look like mercy. It isn’t.

It isn’t merciful to the person who caused harm, because it doesn’t ask anything of them—no accountability, no real reckoning with what they did. Without that, there’s no real opportunity for them to become more thoughtful, more responsible, more capable of caring well for the people close to them.

And it isn’t merciful to the person granting it, either. Real mercy requires truth first. Without an honest look at what happened, why, and what it actually did to the other person and the relationship—there’s no real path toward understanding, change, or healing—just an agreement to stop talking about it.

Cheap forgiveness might feel like the compassionate choice in the moment. But compassion that skips the truth isn’t really compassion. It’s counterfeit forgiveness—one that costs both people more than it ever saves.

Does any of this ring true in your relationships?

If you’ve found yourself granting cheap forgiveness—or you’re on the receiving end of it, and the relationship still hasn’t really healed—that’s exactly the kind of pattern couples counseling and individual counseling for relationship problems can help you work through.


So what does real forgiveness look like, if not this? That’s worth its own answer—cheap forgiveness is really just one way this process can go wrong. There are others, including staying stuck in refusing to forgive at all, which we’ll look at in our next post.

Common Questions about Cheap Forgiveness

No. Cheap forgiveness skips the honest reckoning—no real remorse, empathy, or change—that makes forgiveness durable. It offers the words without the work, which is why it tends to break down again under the next hurt.

Cheap forgiveness comes quickly and skips the reckoning; genuine forgiveness follows real understanding of what happened and why. What genuine forgiveness actually requires is worth its own answer.

Often to avoid conflict, or because forgiving feels kinder—or just “easier”—than confronting the hurt. In some relationships, it can also come from being made to doubt whether the pain is even legitimate, especially where addiction or emotional abuse is present.

Counterfeit forgiveness is another name for cheap forgiveness—a pardon that looks like mercy but isn’t, because it asks nothing of the person who caused harm and skips the truth both people need for real change and healing.

Letting the truly small stuff go is often just relational grace, not cheap forgiveness—no relationship thrives if every little thing becomes a production. The harder question is who’s deciding what counts as “small.” If minimizing real hurt has become a pattern, for either of you, that’s worth a closer look.


By Paul Sigafus, LMFT
Originally published October 2019 · Updated August 13, 2026

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About Paul Sigafus, LMFT

Paul Sigafus, LMFT, is the founder and Executive Director of Colorado Counseling Center, where he has been helping individuals and couples find deeper connection since 2008. With 25 years of clinical experience rooted in Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT), he holds one enduring belief: that the relationships we build with ourselves and each other are the most important work of our lives.