I hate you, but not as much as I hate me.

7c5923a4b7344e7b42968c9a3e2df38eThat subject line starts us off on a nice tone doesn't it? I was getting coached last week, and noticed that, as embarrassed as I am about it, I have a great deal of hate that I hold deep deep down inside.

Here are some of the reasons I hate about people:

  • I hate when people don't comment on this blog
  • I hate when we ask for support, and people click 'like' instead of actually following through with the request for support
  • I hate when people hold road rage up like a badge of honour
  • I hate when people complain about the circumstances in their lives instead of changing them

I've got a lot of them, and I'm sure they're not pleasant to read.  And you know what?  I can do you way better.  Here's some of the things I hate about myself:

  • I hate how I am with alcohol
  • I hate how I am with junk food
  • I hate how fat I am
  • I hate how weak I am in willpower
  • I hate the way my stomach looks
  • I hate how heartless I am
  • I hate that I hate
  • I hate how I can't seem to "get" how to create intimacy
  • I hate that I count create a community around this blog
  • I hate how I can't reach and impact the size of audience I want to

In short, I hate.

My coach asked me, "What is all that hate there to protect you from?"

That's a bit of a weird question isn't it?

In part, hatefulness lets me stay safe from intimacy.  It keeps you out, and it keeps a distance between you and me.  I recognize that it isn't pleasing reading those hateful things I wrote about you (and if it makes you feel any better, I hate myself for even writing them).

I can't own my hate.  You can see that above, where I wrote, ironically, "I hate that I hate".  Guess how that game ends.

[Tweet "That which you cannot own in yourself, owns you."]

I discovered all of this while, in a coaching session, I experienced sadness thinking about sociopaths torturing animals.  It breaks my heart — those innocent poor sweet animals, not understanding why or what is happening to them.

That is heartwrenching.  I can't be with it.

I hate those kinds of people so much.  And at least by hating them, it protects me from the heartbreak.

Last month in San Diego, a teammate asked me for some support with how she was being.  We were in the middle of an exercise, so I told her I'd take it on in a few minutes with her.  During those few minutes, I noticed ten different things that she needed to be doing differently.

I'm kidding.

It was closer to a hundred things.

c48be8314d1cc4bc307fc449d86fd1a2I got her attention and took her out of the room.  As we walked out, I noticed "Jesus Adam, you are tweaked.  You need to get supported".  I had a million things I could see I was doing shitty, and the only thing I could hear (and see) louder than that was what someone else was doing shitty.

You might read this story and see hypocrisy, but if you're interested in growth and development, the gold is in realizing that we see in others what is strongest in ourselves.

My hate, my judgment and my criticism — they're all manifestations of myself.  I can't love the part of myself that hates so strongly, and that's trouble — I'm a deeply passionate individual, and passion comes in all flavours of the emotional spectrum.  I can't pick and choose which parts I cut off.

Until I can learn to love that hateful part of myself, I will always be at its mercy.  Until you can own something, it owns you.

When I'm at my most hateful, that's when I most need support, because the hate isn't really about you.  It's about me.

When my hate shows up, it's bringing me a gift.  It's there to show me that I need something.

And I hate that too.