Does Time Truly Wash Away Wrongdoings?
Time is often treated as a quiet eraser. It dulls memories, softens wounds, and blurs the sharp edges of the past. But does it really erase wrongdoings? Or does it merely push them into the background, waiting for someone to bring them back into focus?
How often have we heard, “That was so long ago, why dwell on it?” or “It doesn't matter anymore”? But is that really true? Does the passage of time automatically absolve someone of what they’ve done? Or do we simply stop acknowledging it because it’s easier than confronting the discomfort it brings?
I recently found myself grappling with this question. I spoke with someone whose history with my boyfriend made me uneasy—a past affair that had long since ended, but still echoed in the present. “That was more than ten years ago,” she told me. “You should relax.”
But can we truly separate the past from the present? Does time overwrite actions, or do they continue to live on in the way people interact, in the dynamics they maintain? Can something that began in betrayal ever fully evolve into something clean? And if we claim it can, are we being honest with ourselves—or just looking the other way?
People change—there's no doubt about that. I’m not the same person I was ten years ago. Neither are they. But does that change the fact that something was once done? Is it possible to acknowledge growth while still holding onto an awareness of where things began?
My boyfriend told me that, at first, he couldn’t look into the eyes of her boyfriend because of guilt. But now, it just feels numb. Is this what time does? Does it dissolve the weight of our actions, or does it simply bury them so deep that we stop feeling them? And if guilt fades, does that mean the wrongdoing itself becomes less real—or does it just mean we've learned to live with it?
What unsettles me even more is the fact that she never told her boyfriend about the affair, yet she kept my boyfriend close to her, even just as a friend. What does it say about how we choose to remember some parts of our past while ignoring others? Why do we keep certain people in our lives while pretending their past actions had no impact?
And what about justice? If time is supposed to wash away wrongdoings, then where does accountability fit into the equation? Shouldn’t there be some kind of reckoning for the choices we make? Or does time itself act as a kind of punishment, making past mistakes feel lighter but never truly making them disappear? If someone never faces the consequences of their actions, does that mean they got away with it? Or does the guilt—or lack of it—become its own judgment?
And what happens if we ignore the past entirely? If we pretend something never happened, does that mean it loses its power? Or does it silently shape the future in ways we don’t realize? Can we truly move forward without acknowledging what came before, or do those unspoken histories weave themselves into our present, influencing our choices and relationships in ways we cannot see?
Do we actually forgive, or do we simply get exhausted by holding onto old wounds? If we let go, is it because the wrongdoing has faded, or because carrying it is too heavy? And if we choose to forget, does that mean it never mattered in the first place?
Some argue that revisiting the past is futile, that the only way forward is to move on. But isn’t there also value in remembering? Can reflection serve as a way to learn and protect ourselves, rather than a way to stay trapped in bitterness?
So, does time truly wash away wrongdoings—or does it simply wait for us to stop questioning them? If we look closely, will we still see their shadow? And if we do, should we turn away, or should we let it remind us of something important?
I don’t have the answers. But I think the questions are worth asking.