Hypothetical in my head.
Person A says to Person B, why wouldn't you date me?
Person B says because it would hurt Person C,
Person A says, you would keep yourself from being happy because you didn't want to hurt them?
Person B replies, how could I be happy hurting them?
But that's not exactly true is it... because its the remorse that kills the feeling.The remorse that comes later.
When was the last time you did something THAT BAD?
10 years ago...
That's a long time to still be worried about it.
I worry about it every day.
Doesn't everyone do bad things at some point? Whats the difference? Why do you deserve to feel so bad about it?
Do you think I have a choice?
Yesterday I was having a conversation with a member of SoT who is sort of acting as a sponsor for me -for leadership training. I am going to a leadership workshop at the end of July, and at the workshop you discuss issues of Power, What it is, why you need it, what you will do with it, why you deserve it.
As part of the prep, its important to start thinking about this, and thinking about the excuses we use to not step up. So I was having some back and forth with the guy, who at this point knows some of my central issues surrounding it all. It felt very much like a counseling session with my mom, only she was there for most of my childhood hurt. Anyway, we were talking about my self consciousness around hurting people, or worrying about hurting people, worrying about hurt people, worrying about accidentally misusing power, or misusing power on purpose. I am very cynical about power. I fear it in many cases, though I have always been willing to play back up roles, advisory roles, nurturing roles...
Anyway, I used an example that my Mother and I have talked about of a time when someone I cared about misused their power...
My Dad and I were supposed to go to the renaissance fair (my favorite event of the year) it was our last opportunity of the season, we had a date and time picked out. I was ready, I was waiting in the basement of the apartment near Aquila. He didn't show. Hours later, he called and said we couldn't go. He stopped by later to apologize in person but the damage had already been done.... my mom describes me curled up and inconsolable. She says its what I look like when I am hurt now.
"Where were you?" was a question that came out of my mouth far too often as a child during this time period. More than that it replayed in my head on loop, along with more awful things. The only answer that made sense and felt like a kick to the stomach every time was that he was with his girlfriend (now my step mother).
My Dad had an affair that ended up ripping apart my family, despite best intentions there was something there that struck me as the worst thing you could do... The worst thing you could do was allow your personal gain, personal excitement, personal lust to impede, to distract, to hurt, to destroy another person... and he did it to all of us.Over and over again. I'm sure it wasn't lust all the time, his own emotional humanity, guilt and needs... but it all became more important than us, like a stab to the heart every time.
I was a really strong boy. I took all sorts of abuse from bullies and my brothers, and my friends, my cousins, my neighbors... I just took it all, sometimes trying to fight back, sometimes trying to find some way to appease them. Sometimes trying to fit in, sometimes trying to stand out and pretend it didn't hurt.
I was so strong, and so broken.
None of that ever seemed to compare to the neglect and abandonment that I felt (if only in feeling) from my Dad.Yet I always wanted to prove that I could make it through, that I could compromise because that's what good people do. They see the other person and allow for mistakes, and work with them to make it better right?
My counselor once asked me why I went to their wedding... as if I had a choice... Your brothers didn't go he said trying to make it seem like an option, and I thought yeah they didn't go which meant I had to, duh.
And I wrote a poem a month later about what that felt like, about how it felt like my execution, like it meant like the final sacrifice of who I was, for his happiness... and he made it. And I chose to be there because I thought it was important to not put your own selfish desires ahead of the people you care about. I was still a kid, and I felt like I had to show my family how to support each other. How you don't abandon, you don't hate, you make every effort to forgive, and even more than that you don't hurt them more... even if they hurt you. I didn't want to my hurt my dad by not showing up for something he cared about, because I loved him, even if he killed me.
I was too strong, or maybe too broken already.
Its hard, because I feel like I have forgiven him for his misdeeds. But I don't know that I can ever unlearn that lesson, You don't put your selfish desires before the people you care about... and thus, I don't know that I can ever forgive myself for all the times I have let my lust, my desires, my selfishness, my anger hurt others.
How can I have children if I am so afraid to hurt them and so sure that I will?
How can I be a leader if I am so afraid I will misuse that power, and so sure that I will?
How can I be a boyfriend? a husband? sometimes I wonder how I manage to teach...
I am so afraid of myself, and so sure that I am not good, because my standard of "good" is so impossible.
But I don't know how to change that standard, because it would mean changing the meaning of those experiences... it would mean, trusting myself enough to have the ability to commit misdeeds.
My mom talks about how we have to grow up, let go of our child's way of seeing thing, especially the hard things.
I just don't know how to make any other sense of that pain, even now I still feel my stomach caving in.
and having a giant hole in you, makes you so glad, so grateful that people even bother to put up with you. It makes you so willing to strive for good things, it makes you put in every effort, it makes you want the best for everyone, it makes you stay awake at night having conversations with them and praying for them... it makes the world seem like a gift... even if you don't feel like you deserve it.
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