Hater Tuesdays #31 : Betrayal

There are a lot of ugly emotions in this world: frustration is one that I find particularly vexing. Rage and envy are problematic enough to be two of the Seven Deadlies. We all know sadness. But the one I find the very ugliest and dirtiest is that of feeling betrayed, which is a complex stew of anger, resentment, chagrin, astonishment, shame, disbelief, and probably a pinch of salt (rubbed into the wound, of course).

Betrayal is the lowliest of offenses. To violate the trust of another is to pull the earth out from beneath their feet, to make their sky fall, to forcibly realign their center of gravity. Sometimes, when it all comes out in the wash, it's a blessing: it certainly helps you sort the wheat from the chaff and can provide the impetus for a seasonal shedding of unproductive relationships, but still, it hurts like hell while your skin is peeling off.

I like this definition: "Betrayal is the breaking or violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict within a relationship...someone who betrays others is commonly called a traitor or betrayer."

The first thing I notice about the feeling of betrayal is that, as with the experience of many victims of violent crime or domestic abuse, it prompts one to assume one is somehow at fault for being mistreated: how could I have been so blind? So gullible? So stupid? How could I have been fooled? I'm smarter than that. 

But a betrayer is a creature of cunning. Sometimes he or she is deliberately evil and means to do you harm; but most times, he or she is just what I call a zombie - my term for a person asleep at the wheel of life, who through their own low-functioning behaviors says or does something that violates every contract you thought the two of you had: to keep confidences, to treat each other with respect, to not take what isn't yours, and so on. I have to admit that I have betrayed others before: I have let secrets slip, I have not done what I said I would, and when I make a mental catalog of my life's regrets, these are the sins that I am most loathe to revisit.

As I have aged and matured I have made very firm commitments to being a person of character and it has paid off: amongst my circle of friends and others I interact with, I am known for being 'good people,' a woman who can be relied upon and looked up to; a person you could trust with your kids, car, secrets, and heart. Although I subscribe to the belief of never taking anything personally, it is a point of pride (see 'Seven Deadlies,' above) that I have evolved into the kind of person people say kind things about and wish good things for.

This is why when I find myself, at this stage of the game, dealing with betrayal it feels so unspeakably filthy. Both my best friend and Tree Guy have, on occasion, cautioned me for my willingness to let others into my heart and home so readily, to befriend the underdog, to accept and tolerate less than I deserve. I've think I've even been called a Pollyanna, in a rather heated moment with my best friend, who has commented repeatedly through the years that I've put up with behavior in friends that he finds thoroughly unacceptable and that perhaps my sense of loyalty has the potential to be wasted on squandered on the unworthy. My therapist once said that I've got 'a high tolerance for dysfunction,' which I thought was quite a lovely and diplomatic way of putting that I can be a right doormat. 

I used to answer these tirades with acid responses about their fearfulness or cynicism and lovely orations about living with 'an open heart' and being expansive and welcoming. Well, fuck that.  I don't feel that way any more. Not that you can walk around assuming the worst about everyone, but the truth of the matter is that while all people may not be inherently evil, all of them are inherently selfish (yes, you and me too) and most of them will take what they can get from you if you let them, and they won't feel bad about it - in fact, they might even trick you into thinking it's your fault. It's only the very rare and very exceptional person who truly respects what you offer and what you have and doesn't feel entitled to use either for their own benefit, and that's the sad truth.

I know one thing: I'll be much more careful about the rapidity and degree of openness and loyalty I give to others. I will take more time to look deeply not at what people say but what they do, and when someone mistreats me the first time, I won't let it happen a second time. I will have as much compassion for myself as I do for others and I will be as loyal to my own well-being as I have been to that of others. When I see something that doesn't quite fit, that is incongruous or hinky in the slightest degree, I won't be extending the benefit of the doubt quite so freely. I'll see with open eyes, not just rose-tinted glasses.

I've worked hard to achieve peace in my life, and for a natural-born 'fighting Irish' girl like me, that's not easy. But I'll keep at it. I'm stubborn. And I am surrounded by people who truly love me, who are worthy of the jewels my love and company brings them.