I’m going to give you a secret to shining like gloss. The kind of shine that everyone notices when you walk in a room or pass you on the street. You might initially think it comes from your Tata Harper skincare, but then you realize the day you aren’t wearing it, that it’s not.
What that shine comes from, is inner love. Love of the self. Plane and simple. It’s a light within that radiates without and everyone is drawn to that stuff like bees to honey!
Especially people who hate you. They can’t stand to see your shine! It repulses them; brings up a venom inside of them that consumes them to the point of obsession. Have you ever had someone absolutely hate you? I’m talking about a person who will go out of their way to try and sabotage you, because if you haven’t been a victim of that sort of abuse, then you don’t have a hater.
At first you might be offended, sad even, not knowing why or how someone, anyone can possibly hate YOU. You’re a great mother, have been an amazing wife, give to animals and people in need, smile at everyone, have integrity and love people from the deepest level possible. You even give people multiple chances when others beg you to give up, because you believe in the good in everyone and try and see things from other people’s perspective.
But as time passes and you work on yourself a bit (more aptly, your self esteem), you realize that people don’t really hate you at all, they hate what you represent. They convince themselves and anyone else who will listen (probably people who are running the same program of self loathing which is masked by entitlement), that you threaten their very existence. This is called the smear campaign. It’s on the to-do list for covert narcissists.
It took me a while to get this one, which is why I am sharing it here for anyone who has a hater and may be experiencing such utter nonsense. What does it mean when we hate someone? I’ve never actually hated anyone, so I can only tell you what it means to be on the receiving end of the hate, so I’ll do that.
Feeling the hate coming off of someone is felt daily by me when I go to this website, my blog, the one you are reading now, and see that my sister in-law logs onto it. I’m not obsessed with what she is doing, like she is with what I am doing, but Google Analytics is something I check every now and again to see where my readers come from, and she always comes up in the data as a person who frequents my blog.
I’ll tell you why this is odd and frightens me a bit. We have no relationship. In fact, we never have. She never liked me, never thought I was good enough for her brother and made no bones about it. She always treated me as though I were shit on her shoe, like I had somehow accidentally landed in her yard and she had the misfortune of stepping in something she would have rather avoided her entire life. I dealt with it, never quite understanding her extreme dislike of me, just feeling the way she intended me to; like I was less than her and not worthy of her company.
But when she told my husband she did not want her children having a relationship with mine, because they weren’t good enough either, well, I am a mother and as a mother, akin to a Lioness, I had to protect my cubs, so I stopped talking to her.
If I’m being honest, her dismissal of us was mild compared to the way his parents treated us all. The list is far too lengthy and heinous to relive, and I have made therapy a necessary tool for us all so that we could overcome it. I am happy to report we have. We give them no thought at all, other than the moments they are brought back into our reality and we are forced to relive the torment.
My husband still wants a relationship with them, despite all three of our beautiful, intelligent, insightful and talented boys begging him not to speak with his sister, his mother or his father.
I have watched all three of them scream at the top of their lungs; dogs running under beds and cats disappearing upstairs from the sounds of pain being emitted from them all. Tears have flown to the point of exhaustion where they have been left in a dribbling mess of helplessness. Helpless; it’s how I feel when I see this happen to them.
Our walls, cabinets and refrigerator have been punched so hard, fists have bled and have been bruised for days, out of sheer disappointment, heartache and absolute and utter frustration from having their pleas be ignored.
The last time this happened a door was broken. I heard my husband say, “You broke the door!” To which one of my boys yelled back, “You broke my fucking heart!”
I have worked through years of garbage in therapy to get to a place of understanding why people do what they do. I know that it is out of conditioning and programming from their childhood, which is why I try to have compassion for everyone’s pain.
Part of life’s journey is recognizing we are all on our own path, so you have to honor other people’s choices even when you don’t comprehend them, which is why I have tried to honor my husband’s choice to want a relationship with his extended family, even after all of the emotional abuse we have suffered.
But there comes a time when one more time is just too many, and you cannot honor choices people make, when they continue to hurt those they claim to love.
So while I am talking about honor or lack thereof, let me address you, Westport. I will do the honorable thing here and thank you for your hatred. After all, hatred is a passion. An extreme one, but passion none the less. And I do love passion!
Passion makes me money. Passion helped me create books, modeling jobs, acting jobs, and a company this year. All of these channels I have created from passion were fueled by love from so many pure of heart, and your hatred.
The lesson of this blog is simple. Love your haters! There is no greater fuel than hate. Turn that shit into gold. It’s called alchemy and I’ve been doing it for a very long time. The more people hate on you, the more you shine.
Something good comes out of everything; even the darkest and most unimaginable pain.