Two Wrongs Don’t Make a Right
Recently, a group of friends and I have been reading Brené Brown’s book, Atlas of the Heart, together. Brené uses the book as a teaching tool for the many words we can use for our emotions, what they mean, and when to use them. Often, we only use a fraction of these words in our conversations. Brené’s intention is to expand our feeling vocabularies. Now she has an HBO series on the same information. My son and I (in separate states) decided to watch the show. In the very first episode, Brené talks about how we may be listening to people, but we aren’t trusting what they have to say. When I speak from my emotions, my feelings, those are unarguable. I am the one feeling them, so you can’t tell me I’m not feeling them or they are not valid. In the same way, when someone is sharing their feelings with me, they are sharing their truth. So while I may not agree or feel the same way, for them, their words are their truth.
I’ve heard this statement before. It’s not new to me. But when Brené described it, and she specifically shared how lonely it feels to have your feeling words dismissed, that hit home for me.
I have had my words dismissed many times. For years, when I was married, my feelings were often dismissed. But yet, when I heard Brene’s words I didn’t think of myself. I thought of the people whom I have dismissed. I felt pretty awful.
So I called my son and said I wanted to talk about the program. I reminded him of when I had dismissed a boyfriend and ended my relationship with him. I had said what I now perceive to be a pretty mean message. I completely dismissed his experience of an event as untrue. I complained to the former boyfriend that he was being a “victim.” It’s been years since I’ve spoken with this man. I didn’t want to reconnect with him and apologize, but I still felt disappointed with myself for saying the words I did. I then went on to describe the end of a relationship with another man where I said some hateful words. Listening to my stories, I felt like a pretty mean lady.
My son stopped me. He said, “Mom, that guy was awful to you. He had been lying to you for over a year, and that was a really serious lie (not like lying that you took out the trash out when you didn’t).” My son told me I had every right to say the things that I did. I was hurt, and I felt disappointed. My need for honesty had not been met.
Still, was it right for me to make those awful statements? Was it right for me to shut the connection down?
When I look back on past relationships, I don’t speak to any of my former boyfriends or ex-husband. I was speaking to one, but he passed away over a year ago. So now I stand on the other side of burned bridges and wonder if I’ve done the right thing.
After studying my past behaviors, I know that I don’t want to be a doormat. I know that in my compassion, I don’t want others to walk all over me. I also realize there is a space between being that doormat and being a bitch.
When it’s time for me to end a situation that is no longer serving me, I often say, “I’m going to Kali the shit out of this experience!” Kali is not a verb. Kali, is the Hindu goddess of death, time, and change. She is said to be the destroyer of all that is evil to protect the innocent. So, in the moments that I “Kali the shit” out of things, I am seeing the world in black and white. I am the good; the other person or thing is the bad. It’s very dualistic. There is no middle ground. Is that the way I really want to be? I like to perceive myself as a more nuanced and compassionate person. But again, I don’t want to be a doormat. Am I trying to be perfect here? There is no world without regret. I can set intention, but expectation is dangerous. I can only control myself and not the other person. I need to create a safe and supported space for myself. So why am I so concerned about the other person? It’s clear by the fact that I have a desire to end the relationship that our needs do not align. It’s clear from some of these experiences that the other person is doing something, and as a result, I feel disappointed, angry, frustrated, sad, fearful, or even exhausted. My needs for safety and connection are no longer being met. So why do I shut the door and throw away the key?
Perhaps it is the anger at myself. I am angry for being compassionate and letting myself get sucked into an expectation that the other person will be what I want them to be. Or perhaps it is anger that I wasn’t able to change that person to what I want them to be. Perhaps I feel bad because I think of the sadness, anger, or confusion that the other person will feel when I set the boundary. Or perhaps it is anger that I can’t make a Disney princess relationship. All of these reasons lead me back to my own self-judgement. Perhaps the person who needs some compassion is me. I’ve got a fair bit of life left in me, and I am sure to once again face the opportunity to “Kali the shit” out of more connections. Maybe next time I can spend more time listening for truth, being compassionate with myself, and allowing for room to learn and grow. I know two wrongs don’t make a right, so perhaps I can take a breath and choose my words from a place of compassion for both of us.
