I’m going to lift things heavily from this article: Why Haters Hate: Kierkegaard Explains the Psychology of Bullying and Online Trolling in 1847
“Showing that they don’t care about me, or caring that I should know they don’t care about me, still denotes dependence… They show me respect precisely by showing me that they don’t respect me.”
Hatred is an ass backwards emotion if there is any emotion that is bass ackwards at all. Hatred is the toxic side of love and we can and will flip sides of that coin willy nilly when we are in a situation so emotionally charged as to have feelings of hatred.
I’ll be only talking about Hatred, defined as a hot emotion. Where you REALLY want people to know you dislike them or their actions. Perhaps so that Person A could change their actions if they just know how affected you were. Perhaps it is so that person A will understand that other people might not like how they were behaving and you can help send a message there. Perhaps it is because you just want to hurt Person A because you hate their stupid face.
This is all sadly predicated upon the idea that Person A gives a flying fuck in your direction.
Hatred is funny because it can trigger responses in people quite quickly.
- There is a chance they will give no fucks at all because why would anyone give any of their limited fucks to give to someone who clearly doesn’t like them.
- There is a chance that the person subjected to your hatred will short circuit and give unto you WAY MORE FUCKS than you deserve. This is a fun thing that happens to trauma survivors because we have messy internal reactions to vehemence and violent behaviour. We’ll put a pin in this for later because when we are not aware of ourselves we can start behaving in a hateful manner as a BASS ACKWARDS way of getting love… or at least attention.
- There is a chance they will short circuit and implode at you. Making them look like an asshole. Clever work jerk face. I see what you did there.
- Either way, this is not a productive way of influencing change, inducing positive reactions, or otherwise living your life.
“So wait. You’re saying I hate things because I hate myself?”
….. kind of? Yes. Definitively yes. If you are like me or the people I have observed judging others hardest…. yes. When I am hating on a part of the world I am hating on something I feel has victimized me personally (systemic inequality), something I feel I work on in myself and someone else isn’t working hard enough on (selfishness), and any other number of things that I have personal issue with and expect the world should as well.
The unhappiest, least generous, most lonely, and saddest people I have ever met in my life that have little hope of growing or changing because they refuse to see that they are actually making themselves unhappy… they are often the most judgmental people in life. And they expect judgment from others the way they judge the world. And perhaps they are open and accepting about most things in most ways… but judgmental to the highest order of a set specific number of things.
People expect what they’re putting out.
Liars expect lies, spy-ers expect spying, abusers can often spot abuse if it is directed their way, and though this is NOT at ALL a one hundred percent rule… I just like pointing out to people who get all hopped up when someone lies to them that they don’t need to let people know when they think someone is lying. And watch their eyes go O.O when they connect the dots to all the times they figured no one caught them because no one said anything.
So when you put out hatred, often times we expect a negative response but deep down, we’re really hoping for a good response. Kierkegaard thought this one through with people that can act so aggressive and hatefully towards anyone they aren’t personally involved with:
“But lo and behold, if I then make a casual remark to him, that same person becomes infinitely pliable and obliging. Essentially it shows that he regards me as something great, maybe even greater than I am: but if he can’t be admitted as a participant in my greatness, at least he will laugh at me. But as soon as he becomes a participant, as it were, he brags about my greatness.”
So what then is Hatred if we define it in the context of ‘haters’ that it be so fickle as to simply require inclusion to overcome? Well. Yoda has something to say about hatred:
Hatred is fear. Hatred is fear that we won’t be included if we engage politely, hatred is fear that someone won’t change their oppressive behaviours if we explain that we need it, hatred is a simplified reaction system that helps us stop thinking and start acting… something that we need to do to live. Which is kind of good… but like the passive vagus response system that makes me pass out at random times when my fight, flight, shit, fuck or die nerve gets irritated… well it isn’t very rational is it. One of the less fun reasons to wake up on your face randomly at the gym.
Hatred is an instinctual thing that I believe we can overcome with our higher selves when we take hold of ourselves and actually look into what is driving these emotions.
Know what that makes you? A bad ass of the highest order. You’re looking into yourself and perhaps the view isn’t always one you like. Especially when hatred is involved.
Deep introspection allowed me to figure out that the people I instantly kind of dislike are the people I actually should foster a relationship with. Because they are doing something that I find myself incapable of… but that’s not true, I just need to rationalize how I could possibly be a person that does that (whatever thing they do I idolize) in my head.
People I find myself coming to hate are almost always people whose actions I cannot reconcile with my perception of them as my friends. Cue whinging: “How oh how could they treat me this way?!”
People I used to hate were often people who had very good boundaries with the world, and acted in the world as if everyone else probably had good boundaries too. This is the unhealthy expression of a little girl that expects good people to intuit her boundaries and mind them for her. Because they’re ‘good’ people. What a narrow definition of ‘good’. How unhappy she was laying down and saying it’s ok for the world to step on her and then being sad they actually did.
I don’t tend to hate anymore. Though people still end up vexing me enough that I have intense emotions about them, the longer I spend wrapped up in those bad emotions the more I know I need to find a way to work it out. Because I can’t live like that.
Working it out comes in two forms for me:
- People can and do become “dead to me”. This seems self explanatory. Why would I mock the dead? Why would I engage with someone I have such a distaste for in any way? I don’t need to. They’re dead to me and they don’t exist. This is hard to do with people in a community but entirely possible. Maybe that’s a post in the future.
- Alternatively. I need to go and have a chat with someone about the crazy going on in my head. I get mad at the people around me for reasons that seem super super valid to my crazy brain until I speak them. This was monumentally helpful in addressing how to go about that. It sounds self deprecating when I say I need to chat with someone about the crazy in my brain. But I find it very successful when I operate on the premise that A) the person I love does NOT mean to hurt me and B) the thing that hurts me … might not actually be a thing in reality. Just in my head. That’s… true more often than I would like.
There’s one person in my life that is quite aware of the hate/love spectrum and that man is my father. Whom I have no interactions with because even negative interactions spurn him to believe I in any way condone his behaviour… or would if I JUST UNDERSTOOD what a “cunt” my mother is. This is where I began the ‘dead to me’ thing… except this is where I fail the most.
I have engaged a few little deaths in my personal relationships since excising my father from my life with a good degree of no emotion. I am proud of that because I’m not engaging with someone I’m constantly going to be arguing with and disrespected by. But my father will always be the one for whom that the silent, hidden, terrible screaming that is wrapped up inside me is always keening. I can’t let it go. I don’t know what to do about it.
As if I mourn the man who raised me when I look for him and see he never existed.
Well that got dark. Hatred. Complicated messy emotion whot whot. Anyway. It is my prognosis that we do not hate people whom we do not wish to ever see again.