Hundreds more articles like this can be found
at the Kink Mentoring Archives… Spread the word!
I think the first thing monsters do is convince themselves they are not monsters.
“I’m a good person. I do good things”, “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone”, “It’ll be okay if I only do it this once”, “It’ll be for the better if I didn’t mention this one thing to him”, “Somebody else can take care of that this time”, “It’s not that big of a deal” and so forth they tell themselves, perpetually minimising the harm they do in order to save face with themselves, because the truth is ego crushing.
Until you reach a point where you’re all alone, and your once strongest advocates can’t find a single virtue inside of you. You are left in the damaged remains of what you had, and you realise that you did all of this, you caused this damage, you made those choices, you left scars in the lives of the people that you touched.
You realise, that underneath everything, behind all the excuses, all the reasons, rationale and explanations - is the monster you tried so hard to convince yourself that you weren’t - and in doing so you can start taking that humanity back inch-by-inch.
My name is Tank. I am a toxic person. I am boorish, I am inconsiderate, I’m selfish, I’m oddly self-proud for things I have no right to be, I am a liar, I’m greedy, I’m entitled, I abandon people who put their trust in me, I take things without asking and break them (and then don’t replace them), I’m untidy, I’m forgetful, I’m unconfrontational and spineless and unsupportive- even when my partner is receiving racist death threats.
I’ve caused so much damage and left so many scars. The thought of me inspires hatred in some people’s hearts, and I deserve it too. Whoever said it, “At the end of it all, people may not remember what you said, but remember the way you made them feel”.
It’s not too late for me to start being the person that I need to be. That person needs to be judged on the actions he takes and the way he makes people feel - in the end those are the things that matter.
To everyone I have hurt, I am so sorry.
Crumple up a piece of paper; wad it up into a ball. Next try to uncrumple it. Is the paper smooth again? No. It’s lumpy bumpy, wrinkled, dimpled.
Hurt someone on purpose. Now. Apologize. Are they smoothed back to how they were prior to being crumpled?
We each impact each other by word and actions. How we choose to interact may smooth or crumple as we go.
Sincere apologies matter. But the impression on the soul, of an intentional hurt given, can never be erased. A trust once broken, takes much effort on both sides, to be re established, if ever.
The person crumpled may receive or ignore or distrust the apology, but they will carry the hurt on some level for as long as they live.
Throughout the course of a life, everybody is crumpled and uncrumpled time and again to a certain extent by life. None of us is immune. Missteps are part of life. Live. Learn better. Do better.
Be kind when possible. It is always possible.
Be kind to yourself in the bargain. Learn self worth and the need for others’ opinion will abate.
Papa Tony:
I LOVE to portray myself as a sweet, kind man. Most of the time, I am. However, by being that way NOW, I am consciously atoning for the harms that I have done to others in the past.
One of my specialties was “Anxiety Transfer.” I learned this toxic behavior from my family, growing up. I’d be having a bad day, and I’d go looking to cause trouble. I’d lash out cruelly at the server at a restaurant, because they couldn’t return fire. They didn’t want to lose their job.
I’d use several thousands of pounds of metal as a weapon on the freeway, cutting people off, and driving aggressively, just to frighten others. I was a menace.
I used my intelligence and keen observational skills in order to say JUST the right thing to crush somebody’s soul. It was so fucking easy!
Then, one day, forty-two years ago, I had had enough. I didn’t want to be that guy any more. I replaced that misdirected, self-consuming anger with a powerful desire to be a good man.
I renounced the toxic crap that I had learned from my narcissistic father. I made a decision to treat everyone that I met as my favorite brother or favorite sister (I have six sisters and three brothers. I DO have favorites.)
As a result of that adult decision, I get treated like royalty, wherever I go. I am Favorite Customer Number One at every bank, restaurant and supermarket.
Am I some kind of ridiculous plaster saint nowadays, that never changes?
No. Absolutely not. I still have bad days, and I still struggle like anybody else. I have problems with brain chemistry, making me moody and crabby without warning. However, I clean up my messes and take responsibility, every single time. I avoid triggering foods like grapefruit, or those Protein Bars. Two of those will kick me into an unreasoning rage.
I still don’t want to be That Guy.
I teach Tops, but I also teach Mentors. Recently, a 45-year-old kinky man was helping me moderate an online discussion, because he wants to be a Mentor as well. Great guy. I will call him Phil.
Well, I shared something raw, true and uncomfortable about myself to the group. Seconds later, I got a call from Phil. He asked me why I would share such a thing in front of all of those men.
I LOVE to portray myself as a sweet, kind man. Most of the time, I am. However, by being that way NOW, I am consciously atoning for the harms that I have done to others in the past.
One of my specialties was “Anxiety Transfer.” I learned this toxic behavior from my family, growing up. I’d be having a bad day, and I’d go looking to cause trouble. I’d lash out cruelly at the server at a restaurant, because they couldn’t return fire. They didn’t want to lose their job.
I’d use several thousands of pounds of metal as a weapon on the freeway, cutting people off, and driving aggressively, just to frighten others. I was a menace.
I used my intelligence and keen observational skills in order to say JUST the right thing to crush somebody’s soul. It was so fucking easy!
Then, one day, forty-two years ago, I had had enough. I didn’t want to be that guy any more. I replaced that misdirected, self-consuming anger with a powerful desire to be a good man.
I renounced the toxic crap that I had learned from my narcissistic father. I made a decision to treat everyone that I met as my favorite brother or favorite sister (I have six sisters and three brothers. I DO have favorites.)
As a result of that adult decision, I get treated like royalty, wherever I go. I am Favorite Customer Number One at every bank, restaurant and supermarket.
Am I some kind of ridiculous plaster saint nowadays, that never changes?
No. Absolutely not. I still have bad days, and I still struggle like anybody else. I have problems with brain chemistry, making me moody and crabby without warning. However, I clean up my messes and take responsibility, every single time. I avoid triggering foods like grapefruit, or those Protein Bars. Two of those will kick me into an unreasoning rage.
I still don’t want to be That Guy.
I teach Tops, but I also teach Mentors. Recently, a 45-year-old kinky man was helping me moderate an online discussion, because he wants to be a Mentor as well. Great guy. I will call him Phil.
Well, I shared something raw, true and uncomfortable about myself to the group. Seconds later, I got a call from Phil. He asked me why I would share such a thing in front of all of those men.
I said “I see where the confusion is coming from. A ‘Mentor’ must also be a ‘Role-Model.’ If I am not 100% true with these men, showing remorse, taking responsibility, weeping and being fragile sometimes, then why would they listen when I am being happy and successful?”
Why would they trust me to be a guide if I never show all aspects of my soul? You get what you give.
No comments:
Post a Comment