I’d like to make a distinction between being sad, as a natural and healthy emotional response to certain deplorable events in our lives and feeling hurt, which, assuming no physical contact was involved, refers to our understanding of the event and the motives of the others involved.
Consider the last time you were turned down in some endeavor that was emotionally important to you. Chances are, if you are not some very advanced spirit, you felt sad and hurt.
Now imagine that a month afterwards you watch a movie with a very similar thing happening to the hero. Unless you know the director or script writer personally you would probably feel sad but not hurt. Why would you feel hurt? None of it had anything to do with you personally, right?
It’s easy to make the distinction when it’s about a bunch of people we don’t know. But occasionally people in our lives whom we know very well indeed will also do things that are not related to us in a causal pattern. That is, they behave in a manner that nothing in our being or doing elicited. But even if that is the case our ego which is not content to be the center of our own universe and insists on being the center of everyone else’s as well, often will interpret the behavior as aimed at us and the result will be a feeling of hurt.
I had a very lucid example of the process in my life lately. I started dating a guy. Everything went swell. We like each other and enjoyed each other’s company almost daily for the whole of 2 weeks. Then I mentioned that I told my mom I have a new boyfriend, and followed it with a statement that I hoped our relationship will evolve into something serious.
His reaction was as if I’d announced I was pregnant with a triplet and diagnosed with breast cancer to boot. He disappeared on me for 3 days, and when he re-emerged he claimed that he was unprepared for any commitment, that the pressure of being with me made him feel physically sick, and that it was him and not me.
Instinctively I tried to take the blame, as good girls are taught to do. “It was too early,” I told myself. “I shouldn’t have pressed him.”
My logic (which is the stubbornest part of me) refused to co-operate. “I did not press him,” it replied. “Mentioning ‘mother’ and ’serious’ in the same paragraph does not constitute pressure. Itshould be obvious you were hoping for something serious just from your age. And if he really thought himself a candidate for a zipless fuck then he needs to have his mirror cleaned.”
I knew that the had had a painful relationship in the past, when he lived for 10 years with a woman he did not love, because every time he tried to leave she would make him feel guilty about something. But this had nothing to do with me. I’m not a particularly clingy person and the things I said were not that demanding. He was just living out his own movie, trying to cast me into a role I fit very poorly.
We still had a final talk to do and I drove up to meet him. On the way I examined my emotions on the subject and was surprised to find out that while I was indeed sad at the prospect of losing my boyfriend, I was not feeling hurt. His concept of my actions and desires was so misplaced that his behavior couldn’t have possibly been directed at me. Why he hardly saw me. Not just the hidden inner me, but any aspect of me!
Well we had a nice breakup conversation with lots of tears and hugs, and decided that we should still be friends, and keep on the treatment exchange we started (he is studying NLF and I’m learning Applied Kynesiology, and we both need to practice on someone).
And what do you know? Two days later he is still giving me the cold shoulder, and avoids making appointments with me. A snappy remark typed itself into the cell-phone, and the guy faded from view again.
Oh no! I must have scared him away.
I could almost feel Ego sigh with relief. Yes! Familiar turf at last! Please, Mister Director, I’ve got to have this part! I can do the castrating bitch like nothing you’ve ever seen. I was born to do this!
And with the familiarity in came the hurt. My eyes filled with stinging tears.
However, Logic must have grown tired with the whole thing already.
“Nonesense,” it announced. “Nothing’s changed. The guy had not had enlightenment. He cannot see you a photon better than before. Just because you found a little corner where you can fit in the story he tells himself does not mean that he is aiming at you all of a sudden.”
I had to concede Logic’s point again. With a minor effort of will I turned my point of view around and the hurt was gone.
I can only hope that the insight gained from that incident will serve me in the future, when I meet more compatible storytellers…
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