Frozen forgiveness and the Wagatha question: Why is it so hard to let go?

Drawing on the very public fallout between Rebekah Vardy and Coleen Rooney, Jemimah Wright asks why grudges are so hard to release, and what they do to our hearts while we hold them. The “Wagatha Christie” saga began on 9 October 2019 when Coleen Rooney posted her viral Instagram statement accusing Rebekah Vardy of leaking her private stories to the press. The libel case went to the High Court in London in May 2022, and on 29 July 2022 the judge ruled largely in Rooney’s favour, finding Vardy had likely leaked information. When Rebekah Vardy recently declared that “hell will freeze over” before she apologises to Coleen Rooney, many of us probably smiled, winced, or muttered: “Oh dear... we’ve all been there.” Maybe not with the nation watching. Maybe not with newspaper headlines and documentaries. But most of us know what it feels like to replay an offence in our minds like a Netflix drama we never asked to subscribe to. There’s an old saying that unforgiveness is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. The trouble is, while we’re waiting for justice, closure, or that longed-for apology, the bitterness quietly settles into us. Public grudges seem particularly painful because they become part of a person’s identity. At this point, the Wagatha Christie saga almost feels less about leaked stories and more about two women trapped in a narrative neither can escape. And while the tabloids enjoy the spectacle, it can’t be good for anyone involved to remain emotionally frozen in resentment. The Bible has a lot to say about grudges, and none of it is especially encouraging for the grudge-holder. “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger,” Paul writes in Ephesians 4:31. Not because the hurt wasn’t real. Not because Christians should become emotional doormats. But because bitterness has a habit of taking root and spreading. Hebrews warns about a “root of bitterness” causing trouble and defiling many. Roots, after all, grow underground before anyone notices them above the surface. And bitterness rarely stays contained. It leaks into marriages, friendships, church life, parenting, even physical health. We think we’re imprisoning the offender, but often we’re the ones pacing the cell. That doesn’t mean forgiveness is easy. Some Christian advice on forgiveness can sound painfully simplistic. “Just let it go” is not especially helpful when someone has deeply wounded you, betrayed your trust, or shown no remorse whatsoever. In my own family, I’ve watched loved ones have to walk out forgiveness after being treated terribly, and not always with the comfort of a heartfelt apology at the end. What I’ve learned is that forgiveness is rarely a one-off emotional moment. More often, it’s a daily decision. Some days it feels freeing. Other days you forgive through gritted teeth while making coffee. And when the other person remains unrepentant, that’s when forgiveness becomes most Christlike. Jesus never said forgiveness depends on the offender deserving it. If it did, none of us would stand a chance. Forgiveness also doesn’t mean pretending boundaries are unnecessary. You can forgive someone and still decide they shouldn’t have unrestricted access to your life. Even God, in His kindness, doesn’t remove consequences from every action. But refusing to forgive eventually chains us to the very pain we want to escape. That’s why we need to speak honestly and compassionately to ourselves or people in our lives who are holding grudges. And if forgiving feels impossible, you are not failing as a Christian. Sometimes forgiveness is beyond our natural capacity. That’s exactly where the Holy Spirit comes in. One of the simplest and most powerful prayers we can pray is: “Holy Spirit, help me want to forgive.” Because sometimes even the willingness is a miracle. The good news is that God never asks us to forgive using sheer human determination. He offers grace for the process. Maybe Rebekah Vardy will apologise one day. Maybe she won’t. But the question for all of us is, what grudges are we still carrying around, insisting we have every right to keep? And are they freezing our hearts in the process? Because freedom rarely begins when the other person changes. Often, it begins when we finally let go.