We want to believe in second chances. We need to believe in them.  In fact, I want second chances, myself. And sometimes, I want third and fourth. Yep, that many in a longish life.

After all, none of us is perfect—we’ve all messed up, said the wrong thing, hurt someone unintentionally.

So when someone in our life disappoints us, it’s natural to ask: Should I give them another chance? And if I do… how many is too many?

That’s the eternal tug-of-war between compassion and self-preservation.

When we love someone—a friend, a partner, even a family member—we often extend grace. We explain things away. They didn’t mean it. They’re going through something. They’ll change.

Sometimes, they do. But sometimes, they don’t.

And that’s when we start keeping count.

There’s no magic number. No universal law that says “three strikes and they’re out.” The truth is, how many chances we give someone is deeply personal. It’s shaped by our values, our history with that person, and our own capacity for disappointment. And how we view the other and their situation. Not to mention an assessment of “the infraction.”

But there is one guiding principle I’ve come to embrace over the years: give chances, but not at the cost of your peace.

But that calculation is more complicated than we might think.

It’s absolutely necessary to check ourselves–are we over-reacting? Is that why we believe our peace is threatened? What do we know of the other person’s motives? How have they been with us in the past?

If the other has a history of loving behavior punctuated by a few meltdowns, this could very much be about them, not their relationship with us. I suppose it all boils down to this: how valuable are they to us?

Of course….

We don’t owe anyone unlimited access to our lives, especially when they’ve shown us a pattern of disrespect or disregard. Giving someone chance after chance becomes a kind of self-betrayal if all we get in return is hurt, confusion, or the sinking feeling that our boundaries are being ignored.

As long as we’re sure we aren’t over-reacting due to our own stuff. See what I mean about “complicated”?

Here’s something I’ve learned the hard way: you can forgive someone and still walk away. I’m not that good at walking away and I often come back, especially when the other has meant a lot to me.

Nonetheless… forgiveness doesn’t require them being in our lives. Forgiveness doesn’t mean extending another invitation into our heart. Sometimes, forgiveness is silent. Internal. A decision to release the pain without re-opening the door.

And still, it’s complicated. Especially when there’s history. Especially when you see the good in someone and want to believe they’re capable of more.

But people show us who they are, eventually. It’s our job to believe them.

So how many chances do you give?

Enough to satisfy your heart that you tried. Enough to know that you showed up with kindness and sincerity. But not so many that you lose yourself in the process.

Because at the end of the day, loving others begins with loving yourself. And sometimes, the most loving thing we can do—for both of you—is to say, Enough.

Have you struggled with this question in your own life? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.