Manifesto: Part One

I feel defeated even as I write, and I think it is within the feeling of defeat that I find my compulsion to write.

My mother possesses a powerful ability to empathize with others, an ability that I inherited for better or worse. Within even the most extreme and poisonous people my mother will search for a reason to forgive or overlook. She will ask herself, and me, what could possibly motivate someone to be that way? Nobody is naturally so cruel, right? We are swept into an imaginative world where the individual has suffered from X, Y and Z and therefore is in need of acceptance and forgiveness. We have now backed ourselves into a corner in which we are ‘insensitive’ for giving them anything less. But what have I done with my feelings, and my right to feel supported by others? I have placed it to the side; I have instilled in myself the belief that if I am not always this way, I am the cruel one. Identifying the origin of this behavior has taken years. Being able to connect the dots was not easy. And sadly, I am incapable of ridding myself of this destructive cycle. Because I understand the ardent desire to be accepted, I feel compelled to offer acceptance to others, even when they do not deserve it.