Humans can almost be counted on - when they feel desperate or hurt - to lash out at other humans, to hit them where it hurts, and to erase bonds of intimacy and trust, often in an instant. It's not unlike the behavior of young children, really. One calls another a name, and the other retorts with a worse name. We try to "one up" each other with the pain we inflict. And we do it best with those we claim to love.
It's certainly difficult to be mature and respectful when we feel rejected or wounded. We want others to feel the pain we are feeling I suppose. But I can't think of a time when inflicting cruelty on another human being has made me feel any better about my own personal pain. Maybe for a fleeting moment, we bask in the glory of being a pompous jackass, but pretty soon we find no comfort or absolution in the act.
What's worse, for the recipient of unfair or untrue cruelty, all of the lovely things the speaker has said to us and about us before come into question. I always go back to that quote from Pretty Woman: "The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?" I've matured to a place where it's not so much that the bad stuff is easier to believe, but its impact can be far greater than the good stuff we hear about ourselves. I know what I am and what I'm not, and I've grown accustomed to mud-slinging in the arena of human relations. It still hurts, but I have learned to love myself and accept the fact that some people will say things that simply aren't true just to try to hurt you or manipulate you. I can't control that. What I can control is whether I choose to associate with people like that.
As a good friend once suggested to me, "you're free to make your choices, but just remember, I'm free to make mine in turn." So whether she started or he started it, I can always choose to finish it - whether it be by taking the high road, walking away, or refusing to engage in it.
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