Collin Willis

Hate

It doesn’t take any effort to hate someone. We often view hatred as something that comes with this blazing intensity, but once the fire has sparked maintaining that blaze is easy. What is hard is putting the blaze out, especially if others choose to toss gasoline and matches on top of it. How many wildfires stem from fires created accidentally? How often are those same accidental wildfires put out accidentally?

When I wrote Blinding Sparks I knew that in writing it I had to expurgate my own hate from the matter. I’ve struggled with this a lot over the past few months. In many ways what happened after the breakup has felt like complete betrayal. And as the months passed and I learned how much she had lied in the relationship and after it, heard about all she had said, or looked back and realized just how tight her control was; there were moments when I felt hatred truly seeping in.

I haven’t always succeeded in tempering those feelings in this scenario, but I have tried my best to reign them in. At the end of the day, hatred is only really good for one thing, destruction. I’ve written destructively before, I’ve spoken destructively before. I knew when I decided to do this that I couldn’t write something in hatred. Even still I was afraid that to say anything would be like pouring gasoline onto a lit match.

Looking Back

I came to the ultimate conclusion that no matter how hard I tried, I might never be able to put out her hatred, but I am in control of the same fires that wish to rage within me.

I do not hate this woman. She has hurt me, gaslit me, manipulated me, and a dozen other things along the way. But at the end of the day she’s human. We’re all a product of the environments around us, whether we’d like to admit our own pliability or not. There are others like her who have hurt her in her past. They instilled in her fears she didn’t know how to conquer and her behavior evolved to this degree as a result. This doesn’t excuse anything she did, but it does convict me to empathize even if it is not my first instinct. When we broke up she surrounded her already unwell self with corrosive people who enjoyed the drama and encouraged her worst impulses. While those worst impulses have done a lot of emotional damage and created a lot of triggers for me, it doesn’t give me an excuse to hate. As nice as that raging fire might feel, there’s a deeper conviction in my spirit that tells me that giving into it is wrong.

Pulling apart all of my feelings of anger, doubt, fear, and betrayal, I sat down and created that post. I’m proud of it. Not only is it one of the longest things I have ever written, it is one of the most vulnerable. I was extremely nervous about exposing those feelings to the world. But like taking the band-aid off of a days old cut for the first time, daylight was the healing catalyst that I needed.

Healing

Had I written that same article two months ago it would have come from a much different place. It would have been angrier, bittered, and probably would have been accompanied with screenshots sent out to hurt her relationships with others. It wouldn’t have been a healing experience for me, nor for her. Reflecting in hatred isn’t conducive to healing. And healing must be the priority if we are able to grow.

The time and space I’ve had in the breakup have allowed me to do a lot of healing. There are still landmines left over from that relationship and I find myself getting by spooked from time to time. Even the genuine understanding of other people sometimes baffles me because of the things she wired me to expect. I’ve had friends explain to me that I don’t have to explain myself if I go 20min without texting them back. My whereabouts don’t need to constantly be shared. I can spend time with my female friends without having to explain myself or having to reassure anyone that “no, I do not have a crush on them”. It has been slow but steady and I am glad to now be comfortable enough to share that part of my life with those around me, not out of fear or anger but out of a desire to genuinely heal and be whole.

In the aftermath of publishing Blinding Sparks I received an outpouring of love and support that I never could have expected. Not only were people reaching out, some who I hadn’t heard from in ages, to comfort and support, but I had many people come forward with something else; their stories. Throughout a lot of this process I’ve felt alone, as if I were the only one who had seen or felt these things. What I learned recently is just how shockingly many of my friends, family, and acquaintances have gone through something similar.

Tell Your Story

I write this coda not because I have any new details to share or addendums to make, but because of the love and support I received. Firstly, I want to thank everyone who reached out, liked, texted, called, or messenger pigeoned me to let me know that they read and heard my story. It is truly overwhelming how loved I have felt in the past few weeks because of this.

Secondly, I want to address those that shared your stories with me. Thank you for being vulnerable. It is easy to feel that your story is unnecessary or that it will fall on naught but deaf ears. In the wake of posting I learned just how many of my friends grappled with those same feelings of guilt, remorse, and trauma as I did. I want you all to know that sharing my story was a great part of healing for me. More than that, it was knowing that my story resonated and that it helped people make even the slightest sense of or feel the lightest comfort in stories of their own that made me feel like my vulnerability was all worth it in some way.

I want to offer two things to those people; encouragement and assistance. If you are one of the people who has been through something traumatic like this. If those feelings of hatred, rage, and guilt still peck at you. If you are someone who has felt unallowed to speak or simply hasn’t known how to do so. Tell your story.

The greatest thing I did for myself was to speak up, to let the people around me know what I had been struggling with, and to give myself the platform and space to sift through what had happened to and because of me. I want anyone who is considering telling their story, whether we are close or not, to know that you have my full assistance if you ever want it. I will read, revise, edit, or write anything that you wish to share. If you have a story, I am here to help you tell it. We are all a product of the environments we choose to be in, and I want to reciprocate the healing environment I found myself in the best I know how.