Note before you read:
this is a rant. i am upset and trying to work though something, and typing was faster than writing. some of these words will not make sense, because the context needs to make sense only to me. i am also pulling many memories together. if you aren't ready to read a rant, perhaps put this away and read it another time, or not at all.
also, typing this at the end, i feel better, because i am learning things. if you do read this (hello future me), i hope this helped.
skip to the helpful bit by speed scrolling to "dear me,". no, i will not put a link for my own convenience. just because.
I cannot get through to you if all you want to insist upon is being right.
There is no empathy, no sharing, no understanding of different perspectives, when you’re locked in an imaginary battle to prove that you did no wrong, and caused no harm.
How can you expect others to understand you when you can’t even try to understand them?
And you hide behind victimhood.
“So what you want me to do?”
“Yeah, everything I do is wrong.”
Or you try to pretend nothing is wrong.
“Okay, we don’t talk about this.”
“It’s just a little thing.”
Or you hide behind fake agreement, wanting to shut the conversation down.
The stubbornness to your right of way, the idea that people misunderstand, how people are more trouble than they’re worth… It’s you I learned the same limitations from.
I had to build my own capacity to show up for the tough conversations. To not shrink from conflict. To learn to be open to the idea that another story is true and what someone else lives is their experience.
I had to stop hiding or stalling or freezing. Thank Goddess for Jarrod.
I wondered where I’d gotten it from, when my university mates tried to talk to me about my weird behaviour (without any of the skills I know now, bless them, it was an uphill task made even harder) and I stubbornly shut down into stupidity… now I see it play out, right in front of me.
What you didn’t know… your obstinacy hurts. You think you’re protecting yourself, and everyone else is wrong somehow. You don’t know that your stubborn clinging to being blameless invalidates the experience of everyone else around you. That there are consequences to your actions and you blithely don’t seem to care. Just because they don’t exist to you doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist at all.
Your sense of what is right and fair is only yours… it doesn’t absolve you of hurt that you cause…
Yes, intentions matter, yes, you didn’t mean to cause harm… what hurts is that you’re also not willing to even explore why someone else is hurting. You’re happy even when you do not know, and you minimise what you do not understand.
“It’s a small thing.”
I cried.
I don’t know why I cried then… I’m still trying to figure it out now. Out of frustration. Out of the strain of trying to hold space for someone who either cannot or does not want to care. Out of the exhaustion from not letting go even when I knew I should, so I was hurting myself now.
When someone is hurt, try understanding. Not explaining, or absolving, or making your case. Not demanding understanding when you can’t give the same… Try seeing what they see, the story that is true for them, and try to repair.
But you can’t do that. You’ve never seen it, experienced it, known what it’s like. Life has always been about blame, and being blame-free. The fingers are always pointing, and they cannot be pointed at you.
I can’t ask you to do something you’re incapable of doing. This is, I know, as good as it gets.
I will leave you to believe that you are right and blameless. That you will be able to fix anything–no, that nothing was broken in the first place. That by sheer force of delusion you can pretend nothing is wrong.
It’s the best I can hope for, with you. Because if you tried to fix it, your intention to clear your name will blow up wildly in your face. And then your shame and the need to look good will take over, and combined with your delusion to have nothing wrong, you’ll avoid every future meeting, or fake a smile worthy of a psychopath.
I can’t change you. It’s not what I want to do.
But I can understand you. Know that this is your “good enough”.
And I can change myself.
Dear me,
I will hurt the one I love. It’s a fact of reality, and because it is true, I might as well face it.
I will also hurt people around me.
And I will hurt them even if I never wanted to, never thought my actions would.
When that happens, listen. Not to judge, or to clear my name. Listen. Be present. Try to see what they saw, how they felt, what happened in their story.
Then, when it makes sense (try to make it make sense, ask questions), focus on the repair.
They’re not open to your story, not yet anyway, until they ask.
They want to be understood. To know that I care that they’ve been hurt, and I see why, so that it doesn’t happen again.
Understand, apologise, repair. Hug, talk, figure out how to change what needs to change.
Sit with them, be present.
It’s not going to be easy. I’m going to want to interject, to explain, to tell my side of the story. Hold on, mouth closed, eyes and ears and mind open, heart wanting connection.
It will be a tough conversation. I have had tough conversations, and I’ve always been better for going through them. I will go through the tough conversation.
It’s the way to honesty, understanding, respect, and love.
And life is a lot better with these than without in my relationships.
I hope you let go of the need to be right and blameless and of stubborn stupidity.
And I hope love, empathy, and understanding take their place.
💖
Image of the shiniest tissue box I’ve ever seen by Mariakray from Pixabay.
