Am I The Asshole?

Have you ever seen these blurbs on Instagram or heard it on a podcast? Someone asks the question with a snippet and then proceeds to give the background story. Halfway through you start to sympathize with the writer. Not surprisingly, the person they are talking about has done something which goes over the line just a bit too much. It is a cute way to ask, but lets face it. You already know the answer. You just want someone to feel sorry for you. Take your side. And why is that? I think it is because in the back of our minds, we are now regretting our actions. We lashed out. Hit ’em where it hurt. But it isn’t really in our nature so we start to feel a little bit of remorse. It doesn’t take long for the “high” we experience emotionally when we finally put that other guy in their place. After all, they have been pushing us for quite awhile. So when we ask that question what are we really asking? In our hearts we are afraid we truly are the asshole.

Now I am the person who takes it and takes it until I snap. I snap hard too. It is like a cartoon sequence from the 1960’s. You can almost see the other persons hair fly back as I let loose. Now don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a daily occurrence. It takes awhile for me to build up the steam that finally blows my mind. In fact, the final straw is usually something quite innocuous. It sometimes comes at a time when we are either in a place of bliss and our guard is down, or we are stressed, tired or unhappy and we just aren’t able to handle what the other person is throwing at us. We react from an almost primal place. No filter. No thinking about the repercussions. We just blurt out the first thoughts that hit our brain. That’s not usually good. So after the fact, without a back story, I am indeed seen as the asshole. This is why when we ask the question, “Am I The Asshole”, the answer is, undoubtedly, yes. In this final moment, yes, I am the asshole. Was the other guy an asshole first. And for a long time? Yeah! That much is true and evident when we hear the whole story. But… wait a minute. Is it the whole story? No. It is one side of the story.

From personal experience I have found that face to face, I am quite able to deal with strangers who say things that upset me. I am able to control my emotions or hide my own opinions quite well. I find it easier to keep from arguing with someone I don’t know unless they come at me in an aggressive manner. Usually, when confronted with someone whose ideas conflict with mine, I zone out a bit. Stop paying attention somewhat. Because my mind is now judging them. I then start to place them into a category that my hubby and I used to refer to as “Non”. They are non’s. Non impactful. Non useful. Non credible. Non believable. From the point you enter the non universe in my mind, there is no escape. Nothing you say can convince me about anything you may think. I have deemed you as completely dismissed. I know at this point that this is not a person who I wish to have hang around in my life. The bottom line is that I know quite quickly how much energy I will need to use in order to befriend the individual. I am very stingy with my time. I am even more stingy with my energy. I don’t have to hate on them. I just don’t bother if you know what I mean. But this is a stranger or perhaps a casual acquaintance. A co-worker or a friend of a friend. Strangers really.

But what about those in our lives. The people who by blood or proximity we chose to love or at least care about. What about them? How do we deal with them? Do we shove our true thoughts and feelings down and one day explode? Or do we talk about them as they occur? Well obviously talking is the correct answer here. So why is that so hard to do? Why can’t we be honest with the people we care about? I think partly we are afraid to hurt their feelings. But the other side of the coin is, we are afraid they will walk away from us. We are afraid to lose them. Crazy right? My oldest friend and I were not speaking when I was about to marry her brother. And she was a bridesmaid. It was so bad that I went for fittings for her dress because she wouldn’t go. She hated the dress. It was short, green, short sleeves. Very pretty. Actually perfect for her body type. And the dark green went beautifully with her auburn hair. In fact she looked better than the other bridesmaids. The night before the wedding she tried it on and both her and my future mother in law made very unkind remarks about the dress. It had been months of anger between the two of us and I was done. I told her to wear whatever she wanted to wear to the wedding. Her call. One stipulation though. If she wore my dress, she walked down the aisle with the rest of us. If she wore anything else, she sat in the congregation. I walked away. In the end she wore the dress. We made up a couple of weeks later. Neither one of us was willing to give up on the friendship and now we were related. Once we talked about our stories and why she had said and done the things I was angry about, it made everything much clearer. She was very jealous of another bridesmaid and felt left out. In hindsight, I did see how I had hurt her. Talking earlier would have helped but sometimes fear of the unknown is just a little too strong.

The other day my youngest daughter said something to me that was quite insightful. She understands that as her parents, we lacked the instant information that is available now. We did the best we could and like our parents before us, were dealing with our own traumas from childhood. It hurts parents to hear how we messed up. Especially years later when there is nothing we can do but say we are sorry. I know this child deals with me in a kinder way than her sister because she sees the pain from that relationship and is in fact herself collateral damage. Was I a better parent to the youngest daughter. Doubtful. In fact if the truth be told, I was probably better with her sister. When it comes to our kids it is so hard to let go and let them make decisions on their own. We want to keep them from completely screwing up their lives. Like we did. And so we give unwanted advice. Say stupid things. Do stupid things. It is kind of like walking on a tight rope. When do I speak and when do I stay silent? My oldest daughter always said I talked too much. What she meant was that I can’t keep a secret. And she is right. If someone says they are going to tell me something but to keep it myself, it is hard. What I want to say is, then don’t tell me. I am not your man for confidentiality. Partly, this is a personality defect which comes with ADHD. More importantly, I find secrecy in families is usually a sign of dysfunction and often abuse. These are the families where home life is hidden and a mask is what is shown to the outside world. I find that I understand my own Mom more and more as I age. And with that realization I know my own kids will understand me more as they age.

Our roles change as our kids age. We are there to listen not help. They will figure it out themselves. When they come to us with an issue, what they are asking is, “Are they the asshole”? And no they are not. As a friend maybe. As a parent, no… Never. Whoever pushed them to the brink is the asshole. That is our role now. When friends or acquaintances push our buttons and we respond, we know the truth about who we were when we reacted. I have learned that when you cherish a friendship, honesty is best. Maybe not right away. But after a little cooling off period. We need to trust our true friends enough to share our inner thoughts. Just be kind. Rather than push things down we need to be open and honest. Disagreements are so much better than the loss of someone who just doesn’t see things your way. It is a small price to pay in a relationship to see why we are angry first, but second, perhaps understand why the other person said what they said. Did what they did. I think about my friend Suzie. How I miss her. I was the asshole all those many years ago. All those things she did to make me nuts fourty plus years ago. Final exams in Uni, planning a wedding, fighting with a friend. I only saw what I wanted to see because life was hectic I was blind to her pain. Thank God we were able to listen to each other and see the truth. It all boiled down to hurt feelings. I would do anything to have her here again. But if I could go back in time I would still make her wear that green dress. It was sill my wedding… Even If I was the asshole.