Parts of us sometimes operate from a place other than love, parts that hurt or want to hurt. I’ve been looking at mine in the middle of a separation. Today is 3 Ajmaq, the day of self-forgiveness, self-acceptance, and inner peace. It asks us to look honestly at the ways we hurt others and have been hurt, so we can finally set it down.
Someone not in my life anymore
I do not often cut people out of my life. I’m generally adept at maintaining friendships over time. But we all have our limits and I reached mine with two friends in recent history.
To the extreme, I cut off communication. That is the worst punishment I can be subjected to, therefore I think it’s the meanest, most honest and most natural thing to do, once a friendship has turned sour.
A friend and I were close for a decade, but mostly it was her talking and me listening, her complaining and me people-pleasing. She is a self-proclaimed bitch, and I was a fawn. I tried three times to cut off communication. The third time, it worked. I didn’t do it to be mean so much as to protect myself, to extract her energy from mine, release her with gratitude, and love and honor her only from a safe distance.
This past summer, I cut out another friend in one fell swoop when she admitted to having turned a little bit Maga. She and her husband shared with me how much they love their guns, RFK Jr, etc. And I just dissolved into nothingness and disappeared. Another friendship vaporized.
When I’m hurting
Wheh I’m feeling hurt, I avoid, escape, repress and deny.
If you’ve hurt me with your words, actions or energy, I probably want to get far away from you. I have 10,000 escape routes, secret passageways to sweet solitude. I seek isolation to avoid desolation. I can rise up and dissociate all the way into the astral plane. I can repress the rage and despair, deny the disappointment and let-down blue feelings for years on end. I can be resilient and project contentment. I’m a highly functional person, I swear!
In the moment of feeling hurt and offended, my eyes go black, my nose gets sharper, and I pout a bit, my mouth forming into a “piquito.” (Spanish for little beak.) It never helps when you point out that pout in jest.
Once it becomes too tiresome to keep avoiding, escaping, repressing and denying, I let the floodgates open. Rivers of tears are liberated. I’ve arrived at a place beyond words. Sadness wrapped up with anger, nostalgia and dashed hopes, and there is nothing more to say. Other times I let the madness fly, launching my words like grenades, such as “It’s all in your head, pinche cabrón!” (That’s a direct quote.) Then I feel young and passionate as I yell, curse, and express my emotion in the moment. More often it’s quieter. In the ideal scenario, I notice the feeling, let it be felt and let it go.
When I hurt someone
My (ex-)partner thinks I’m hurting him by cheating and deceiving him. That is his story, his delusion, and I don’t need to defend myself from his false accusations. I feel that I’m hurting him because I myself am so hurt, traumatized, tired, and hopeless. And I am done with the toxic cycle we’ve been living.
I am demanding change.
I am stating my need and want for change, meaning living separately.
In psychology terms, we are stuck in a trauma bond with repetition compulsion. It’s easier to repeat the dysfunctional patterns because they are known and comfortable, despite being painful. It’s harder to break the cycle and start on a new path. Nevertheless, that is what I’m doing to move beyond the hurt.
Ajmaq is the day we ask for and offer forgiveness and a hug of peace. I’m starting with myself, for the years I swept things under the rug, for the escapes, for the settling. Forgiving B will come in its own time, and there’s no rushing it. For now, I can love him from a distance, maintain my integrity, and let go of the relationship as it was.
Maltiox, Ajmaq.
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