Hatred is…
Hatred is the anger of the weak. – Alphonse Daudet
This is just begging to be a Co-Parenting 101 Quote of the Day. So very, very true.
There are few people in the world that I hate (or have hated), and in every case, I felt that way because I believed I lacked power to change my circumstances or the circumstances of those I cared about in the face of the object of my hatred. I hate cancer. I was powerless to stop it from killing my mother. I hated my father for some years because I was powerless to make him into the kind of father I deserved, and I thought I was powerless to free myself from the bondage of the past and other things that I couldn’t change. When I finally accepted those things that I couldn’t change, and when I realized that I had the power free myself from the bonds of the past–the hate I felt towards my father disappeared. I wish I could say that boundless waves of love rushed in to replace the hate, but that’s not what happened. What happened is another story for another day…
The same is true for other “hates” I have known. Folks talk about “hating” as a euphemism for being jealous of someone’s possessions, social standing, or accomplishments. That’s never been my issue. I hate when I feel powerless to protect me and mine. I hate when I feel powerless to affect change that I feel is necessary. This is why I think this is such a good quote for co-parents. When kids live in two households, the issues of protection, well-being, control, and change loom larger than ever in the fallout of a break up between ex-partners who are at odds–if not all-out war–with each other. But I’m-a stop now, and save that post for Co-Parenting 101!
January 12th, 2010 at 3:02 pm
I love that quote. I’m trying to overcome my hatred for my father. I only recently realized I even felt this way.
Great post.
January 12th, 2010 at 6:48 pm
Hey, AnonyMiss,
It wasn’t until I became a parent myself that I was able to let go of the hatred I had for my father. Something shifted when my oldest daughter was born, plus I felt the hate eating at me–as hate always harms the hater as much as harms, even more than it harms, or even instead of harming the person to whom it is directed. Hating my father was an anchor around my neck, and I had to let it go or let it drag me under.
In 1999, I wrote my dad a letter releasing the hate and forgiving him, even though he hadn’t ever asked for forgiveness. Still, it took another decade almost, and the death of my mother, that finally freed me of the hatred I felt towards him.
I wish you much peace as you move forward.
~Deesha