On Being Hated

It has recently occurred to me that, contrary to what I have believed for a very long time, there have been people in my life who did not like me. I must sound rather naive saying this. But really, some people, perhaps, might even hate me. It's a strange realization and I am assuming that for most people this realization comes earlier than it did for me.

I am not sure how this realization came about. But most likely it is connected to a text I received from a person whose feelings, I know, I have hurt. And although I believe strongly that getting our feelings hurt also has to do with allowing ourselves to have our feelings hurt, I would not want to take the absurd stance that another cannot hurt me at all. Of course, they can. And so can I.

This particular text stated clearly and without leaving room for interpretation "I hate you!"

Now, I have always taught my children to be careful with the phrase "I hate..." As well as with the phrase "I love..." Too many times do we use these phrases in vain. And to me this is much more problematic if not disastrous than using the name of God in vain. "Hate" to me means to wish that person's or thing's non-existence. It is to wish a person dead. (This is why it is silly to say "I hate broccoli" unless the speaker is prepared to argue their death-wish for broccoli!)

So, to hear "I hate you!" for me means "I wish you dead!"

I am not superstitious and thus not susceptible to any ruminating about whether this sentence is actually a kind of curse. It may be intended in that way. But it doesn't reach me in that way. What it does do, however, is trigger a kind of introvertive journey: I wonder: have I wished someone's death (or serious illness) in the past? The answer is "yes." I have. The only thing I have to say in my defense about this is that that wish didn't really seem to come from a place of hate as much as it came from a place of fear.

I remember thinking, as a fifth-grader, what if that math-teacher who was bringing back the quiz which I was sure I had failed, what if that math-teacher was killed in a car-accident? I also imagined that the students who bullied me from second through 7th grade might get killed in a house-fire or get hit by a car.

So fear certainly makes for very fertile soil on which hate can grow. The story of Cain and Abel tells us in unmistakable ways that Cain was jealous or envious of Abel. He feared that Abel's sacrifice--a lamb--was better than his--fruits of the field. He hated Abel for that and killed him. I found similar reasons to be behind the hatred many Germans had and (unfortunately) have for Jews. And what drives the hatred in radical Muslim groups such as ISIS and Taliban, if not fear? The worst part about fear-driven hatred (i.e., all hate) is that it entices us--yes, seduces us--to hate back by instilling fear in us.

As a father I have always been quite intentional about not instilling fear in my children.. because I didn't want for that fear to be transformed into hate later on in their life. Overall, I think, this has worked. I have to say too, though, that I have never been afraid of my children. Their mouthiness, resistance to things, obnoxious behavioral patterns have never intimidated me or made me fear for their future. Nor did these things make me second-guess my parenting. What we call "inappropriate behavior" in our children is, actually part of the deal when we decide to parent. So, such behavior is actually "appropriate" behavior for someone whose goal and task is to be independent, separate.

But there is another layer of how hatred by others can become part of a person's experience. In my case there were, of course, the bullies. Why did they bully me? I certainly wasn't aware of instilling any fear in them? Or my geography and German teacher in 5th and 6th grade who, I knew, disliked me thoroughly. But I was never aware of having done anything to him. Another experience was about a young man who, like me, was a conscientious objector and whom I liked quite a bit, hated me (he said this in a group counseling session which I will never forget). One of the pastors in my home church in Hamburg called me "entitled" when I asked him for a conversation about how condescendingly he had treated his co-pastor. He hated me without saying the words. His face spoke volumes to me.

It is one thing to be disliked or hated for having been mean and/or thoughtless. It's an entirely different thing to be hated for no apparent reason at all.

Here we're getting into deeper psychological issues. As it turns out, it is possible to hate a person because they have something we wish we had or, alternatively, because the person exhibits something we are suppressing in ourselves. For example, it is possible to hate a person because he/she has more money. It is also possible to hate a person because he/she seems to feel more at ease showing their emotions. Hate, in other words, is an attempt at "othering." It is an attempt to say "you're not me!" And yet, even in the grammatical structure, the real thrust of hate reveals itself: "not-me" is still "me" just that it is "not"-me.

Can we stop ourselves from hating? I think we can. But in order to do so we have to take a major step into a direction that's difficult, if not intolerable, for most of us: We have to accept that what we hate, no matter what it is, is actually a part of us. This means for me that the person who told me they hate me actually has to accept that I'm part of them. And I, in turn, have to accept that this person's hate has a resonance in how I feel about them.

This has potential to be a spiral of hate, if left unchecked. The solution is not to hate back when we're hated. But it is also not to pretend that being hated does "nothing" to us. It does. And what it does requires an immediate intervention to quell the impulse to "hate back"