Jen and I had a fight the other night. One of the things she said was that one of the main reasons our relationship has troubles is because I'm a mean person. It's true. I'm a jerk. I am one of the people that the slogan rails against.
Here's an example that drove it home for me. No pun intended. The other night I was leaving work early to go see my shrink. I ended up behind someone who was being more cautious than I thought they needed to be. I'm in a rush and stuck behind some vile little toad who doesn't give a shit about anyone but themselves.
I got tired of waiting for this person to drive more aggressively so I honked at them. I started to pantomime violently that they should speed up. I started to hurl laser beams at the back of their head. I began to hate this person.
Then I realized it was Jen.
We work out of the same building, and she was driving home. You'd think I'd be able to recognize my own car from behind, but I didn't.
I was heaping violent hatred on someone I love and treasure. I was terribly ashamed of myself for feeling the way I had. Then I realized that it didn't matter if it was Jen or some stranger. There is no one who deserves the kind of hatred I was throwing around.
the amount of hate that I channel towards Gf and mom is ridciuolous. Ocar wilde's "We kill the one we love" come to mind.
ReplyDeleteBut also this comes to mind: Maya Angelous Mom told her point blank that spreading honey on strangers - which I specialize in (and is a good thing, in itself) - is wasted when you let the Loved ones see only your venom.
Shames me all the time.