File this under "I Hate That"

Have you ever been a target?

Most of us, I think, have at some point in our lives. But the kind of meanness that is experienced in the schoolyards and locker rooms and playgrounds of our youth, are often a distant if still vivid memory by the time we become adults. Because by then, we can generally be relied upon to resolve conflict in a more civilized and constructive manner.

But not all of us.

A couple years back, I became a target. The things that were said and done to me were vicious and unrelenting. The details do not matter, so I won't recount them here. But it was a very illuminating experience for me in terms of human behavior. I learned a lot about myself and I learned a lot about other people. I eventually realized that it really wasn't about me. It was about having such deep and profound hurt, disappointment and bitterness that it simply boiled over and scalded the most convenient and accessible scapegoat. Hurting me felt good, because it masked their own hurt.

It's disturbing, but understandable, I suppose. We human beings do not like to hurt.

So anyway, I consoled myself with the fact that these people were either mentally unbalanced, desperately unhappy or both. But I never really knew for sure. I decided to put the episode behind me, because I have too many positive influences in my life to allow myself to be dragged down by such antipathy and negativity.

But now and again, I wondered about those people. What could be so awful that it caused such terribly unkind behavior? What could cause someone such anguish that they were compelled to lash out at others in such a cruel and vindictive way? I knew I would never know.

But sometimes, things come full circle. Sometimes, the universe bestows a gift upon us. Sometimes, something happens to make me believe in "karma" or "kismet" or "fate" or whatever you want to call it. I wouldn't go so far as to call it divine retribution, but some of you might.

Recently, quite by accident, I found out what was causing a particular person who had been involved in the whole sordid mess, such profound personal torment.

I expected to be happy. I expected to feel vindicated. I expected to revel in the validation that I had been right and that this person really was a sick, bitter, unhappy, emotionally wrecked person.

But none of those things happened. Instead, I just felt bad. Sad. Sorry for them. I coul not enjoy the knowledge. I could not enjoy their pain.

I hate that.

I always wondered if I would ever be able to forgive those people for the way they treated me, or if I would always carry a small shard of resentment.

Now I know.

(please excuse the fantastically self-indulgent nature of this post. I resolved a long time ago not to dwell on this issue, but sometimes it rears it's ugly head unbidden. I feel somewhat cleansed now, knowing that I don't have to harbor the bitterness forever.)