A chance encounter on an airport escalator became the catalyst for a life-altering journey of forgiveness for one woman, fundamentally reshaping her relationship with the father she had not seen for years.
The Moment That Changed Everything
On a Sunday afternoon in 2025, Carolin Würfel was travelling up an escalator at Berlin Brandenburg Airport, heading to check in for her flight back to Istanbul. Glancing at the descending stream of passengers, her eyes settled on a man in a light linen suit with a brown leather bag. It was only as he passed that she recognised his face and found herself unable to breathe. The man was her estranged father.
"Who expects to run into their estranged daughter, whom they haven’t seen in years, on an airport escalator?" she later reflected. In that split second, she considered turning back but held back, struck by the scene's almost cinematic quality. This brief, unplanned moment offered a new, peaceful perspective.
For the first time, she did not see the absent father of her childhood. Instead, she saw just another traveller—someone who, like her, preferred a leather bag and casual dress. This subtle shift in perception, from a figure of personal hurt to an ordinary individual, became the foundation for change.
The Path to Letting Go: Insights from Therapy
This experience resonated with therapeutic concepts Carolin had previously encountered. She recalled the work of American psychiatrist Phil Stutz, featured in the 2022 documentary Stutz. He speaks of being trapped in a "maze" of anger and advocates for a radical practice of "active love" as the only exit.
Stutz's exercise involves visualising a universe of love, filling your heart with it, and then consciously sending that love to the person you resent, ultimately visualising merging with them. "The restitution we’re hoping for doesn’t come from the person who hurt us – it only comes through 'active love'," Stutz argues.
When Carolin first tried this after watching the documentary, she found it impossible to apply to her father. The child within her resisted fiercely. However, the neutral, unexpected sighting of him at the airport created the mental space needed to begin the process of letting go.
From Theory to Practice: Rebuilding Bridges
Empowered by this new outlook, Carolin reached out to her father weeks later. They met at a Vietnamese restaurant in Berlin. She consciously managed her expectations, reminding herself: "You are just having lunch with someone."
Their history was complex. Carolin grew up in Leipzig knowing only her father's name, finally insisting on meeting him at age 14. Subsequent attempts at a relationship were repeatedly derailed by resurgent anger over his absence. South African psychologist Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela notes that forgiveness requires unsettling openness and moving beyond a comfortable, if painful, identity tied to being wronged.
The lunch was a tentative new beginning. Since then, they text regularly, meet when she is in Berlin, and he has visited her in Istanbul. Forgiveness, Carolin notes, is an ongoing practice—"one meeting at a time."
A Mirror in Friendship: Learning to Apologise
The journey also gave Carolin clarity when she herself needed to seek forgiveness. After a fierce argument with her closest friend in Istanbul, Lara, she initially felt self-righteous. After a month of silence, her perspective softened.
Upon reconciling, Lara explained she needed space not just from anger, but for self-protection, fearing the conversation would not be on equal footing. "That’s how you learn to love," Lara told her. This experience underscored that life is messy, mistakes are universal, but recovery and deliberate action are always possible choices.
Carolin Würfel's story illustrates that reconciliation often begins not with a grand apology, but with a quiet shift in perspective. Sometimes, it starts in the most mundane of places—even on a moving staircase, heading in opposite directions.
