People Peasers of the World: PLEASE STOP.
I've had this in my head for a while, and I've been hesitant to talk about it. Like most things I spew onto the webpages of this here blog, it's deeply personal and rather uncomfortable to talk about. But, also much like most of the things on this blog, I see no reason to fear the discomfort.
What I am is afraid of hurting people's feelings.
I've always been afraid of that. It is my biggest fear. Because of that I have spent a good part of my life being a people pleaser.
That said, I think people pleasers are sad, miserable people who will never meet their true potential because they hold themselves back.
I think most of us can sort of agree with that, right? Whether it be failure or speaking in front of a crowd, our fears hold us back. People pleasing is just the fear of hurting other people's feelings or disappointing an imaginary ideal we believe other people have of us.
I've noticed lately, which is one of the reasons I want to write this, that I know a lot of strong, powerful women who are sad, miserable people pleasers.
It's sounds harsh, I know. I also know that when I spent most of my time trying to please everyone, I was sad and miserable.
Now is for the uncomfortable part: how I learned not to worry so much.
It was not an overnight change. I didn't wake up one day and decide I was over being a door mat and then stopped. No. No fucking way. It's been a process. It's still a process. Not only that, but my transition has been painful.
Remember when I ran away to Hawaii? I remember that. I remember it all too well. I don't talk about it a lot because it's been a long and emotional road. I'm ready though. I think you all need to know this about me. Not because I need support or help, but because I'm ready to share this. I have this idea that people see me as this well adjusted, put together, knows-what-she's-about kind of person who doesn't take shit from anyone. That's at least how I see myself for the most part. But in Hawaii, I lived with a guy. I moved there for him. He's not a bad guy, but he wasn't a good guy. Not by a long shot.
What I'm trying to get at, what I'm beating around the bush about, is that I was in an abusive relationship. Rarely was it physically abusive (though at times, it was), it was certainly emotionally abusive.
A quick heads up: This is the part where I'm going to ramble on about specific memories until I find my way to my point. Stream of consciousness ftw!
We lived in a cinder block apartment with a group of meth heads on one side, and a family of Micronesians on the other. We didn't have windows, just jealousy blinds. The floor was institutional tile and the living room was taken up by our small sofa, the tv, and surf boards. The kitchen was two feet wide and opened directly into the living area. I hated being there. We slept on a futon in the bedroom. He was obsessed with tidiness. If I didn't pick all of my things up, it was sure to be a fight. We would fight, then fuck. If we didn't fuck we wouldn't speak for weeks. Literally weeks. Except for when I made dinner. Food, as it usually is, became my escape. I made massively elaborate meals almost every night. It impressed him and he would be sated the whole night, and I was usually put on a high pedestal for feeding him.
And hot damn, could he eat.
Little known fact about me: I like to watch people eat. Nay, I love it. It's almost a fetish. I would pay to watch someone eat with gusto.
I would make four portions, keep one for myself (which I would then split, one for dinner one for lunch the next day), feed him two portions for dinner and then one for lunch the next day.
It was the only thing we were always good with. We were always good when I made dinner, which was almost every night. As shitty as everything else was, I refuse to let go of how great that was.
But that was it. That was all we had. I was not allowed to have friends unless they were his friends too. I went out once in a while, without him, but it almost always ended with him drunkenly harassing me, or worse.
I didn't know what to do. I'd never been through this. I'd never met anyone who I was afraid of. I didn't even care about him that much, but what he said to me and what he thought of me mattered because it affected my daily life. My people pleasing tendencies went into hyper drive. If I pleased him, my life was actually easier, not just in theory.
I got out as fast as I could. It wasn't fast enough, but I did what I could. I lived like I made half as much money as I made, and I put every penny I could away so that I could move. At one point I didn't even care where I went as long as it was away. I had to get off that island. I had to run away because I didn't know what else to do. I had no idea how to stand up for myself.
It took 9 months for me to save enough money. That was after the first 4 months I spent taking the abuse like the good little pleaser I was. Those 9 months were hell. Can you imagine going almost a year without a hug? Without touch that wasn't sexual in nature? Without sexual interaction with your abuser, you would get absolutely no human connection? It was awful.
I can count the times I got non sexual touch on one hand. It was all from the same person, and I am so grateful for her. She was my friend Tiffany, who I got in trouble at work for being friends with because she was my employee, and she saved me. She gave me warm friend hugs. She gave me a safe place to escape to. She taught me a lot about being a strong woman. If you're reading this Tiffany, you'll never know how important you and Rob are to me. You will always be in my heart as one of my best friends.
So I got out. I left Hawaii. I was brave enough to do that. I left what I had in Hawaii to find what I used to have in New Mexico, only to find it gone. Life in Albuquerque had moved on without me. It was the lowest I have ever been. I was empty and naked and new.
In the Tarot, I would have been the fool. I was new. I had lost everything I thought I knew about myself and was ready to be reborn.
Was I reborn overnight? No. No I wasn't. This is a point I cannot emphasize enough. This was a turning point, not an overnight transformation.
I spent the next few years in New Mexico rebuilding. I met my partner, Dan, and I was amazed at the support he gave me. I resisted being in love with him, because it seemed that I would just be losing myself to the next person I met as was my habitual pattern. I was so used to just, losing myself. If I was in a relationship, I wasn't my own person. I wasn't, in my own mind, allowed to have my own opinions or my own life. I was a slave to my own expectations that I believed resided in other people's minds.
Dan was different and so was I. I never pretended once. I was clear with who I was and I never lie to make him like me more, something I was very accustomed to. He liked me for me, like that 90's song by Blessid Union of Souls. I even smoked in front of him, on our first date, something Hawaii guy had once threatened me (physically) not to do. Dan liked me. It was ok to just be me and to do things just for myself.
So then I had this terrible job. I've talked about it before. I hated it, it was demoralizing. I got paid to be a people pleaser. I had to console people who had skipped payments on their cell phone bill and act like it was my fault. MY FAULT. That THEY didn't pay their bill for months.
Boy howdy was I sick of taking the blame.
It wasn't my fault. None of it was. Yes, I made the choice to move to Hawaii with a guy I hardly knew, but it wasn't my fault he'd turned out to be a turd. It wasn't my fault that I went out on a "girl's night" with a coworker and he spent all the money I'd saved for Christmas presents for my family on coke (not the carbonated beverage) because he couldn't stand the thought of me being out where someone might hit on me. It wasn't my fault half of his paycheck went to drugs and alcohol. It wasn't my fault someone bought a faulty phone online and I couldn't activate it. None of it was my fault.
I can recall a point in my life when I would have gladly taken all of the blame. I would have taken all the pain for another person because I thought that's what love is. It's what I thought compassion and kindness are. I found myself trying to intuit what another person wanted from me and giving it to them before they asked for it. Then I was done. I was finished being a corporate door mat, and that translated into my personal life.
I found a new job. I was aggressive about it. I fought for the job I have at Rebel. I harassed the owner until she gave me a job. Because of that I am now a pivotal part of the company.
So I found a new job. I found someone who loved me for me. That would be enough for anyone to be happy, right?
Wrong.
There was a lot of pleasure in each, which I am fond of, but it was not happiness. Happiness came when I followed my own path in my own way, something I was uncomfortable with. Something I had yet to fully experience. But. . . I did experience it.
Last year I lost myself in my job.
Early this year I lost myself in Dan.
Both of these things are significant.
Both of these things are examples of me falling into the same tired, old patterns.
So here I was, lost in trying to be perfect for everyone else AND I WAS ALREADY SICK OF IT. So, I drew a line in the sand with work. I realized that my own well being was more important than any job ever could be, and I found boundaries I could work within that gave me the freedom to be good at my job without giving more than what it was worth. That was an epiphany.
With Dan though, that was more difficult. I could find a separation between work and life, but between Dan and life? That has been rough.
He's not controlling, at all. He's the least controlling person I've ever met. He is completely supportive of me being me, having control of my own life and doing whatever it takes to make me happy. The problem wasn't Dan, it was me. I was trying to anticipate what he wanted from me without ever taking myself into consideration, even though he did. He cared about my happiness, but all I knew how to do was pretend I was happy and "help" him be happy. In the way Hawaii boy would have been placated.
Guess what that did?
Nothing good.
So, I had to change.
I had to revisit my past. I did not want to. It is painful and it makes me feel ashamed. What strong woman is controlled by a man?
Apparently, me.
But like I'd said, I was broken. I was down to the barest part of me. The naked, vulnerable part of me. The part that was willing to change everything so that I never had to feel the way I had ever again.
So I changed. I had to. I had to figure out how to protect this new vulnerable, beautiful, naked part of myself. That naked part of me is still alive. It is a living, breathing, part of my existence now. I had to be broken before I could find that pure thing in me. The pureness of failing every expectation I had of myself and still being ok. Still being me.
I decided I could no longer live by those expectations, they were all made up anyway.
I began living on my terms, and something amazing happened. My terms turned out to be really great! Not only did they leave me with plenty of room to explore and exist, but they allowed me to truly hear what the people around me needed and expected from me. It was drastically different from what I thought they had wanted and needed.
It turns out, all they needed from me was me. The real me. The honest, vulnerable me. I had never realized before that I was useful just as myself.
But I was.
I am.
You are.
The point is, it took years to get here, but I don't people please anymore. I am good where I am. If we can't meet each other on some common ground, we're probably not going to be friends. I'm not changing what I am, or compromising what I need, to be yours.
I just got to this point though. Like, I have only now realized all of these things about myself. I keep bringing this up for one simple reason: I know a lot of people pleasers, who are inherently perfectionists, who will feel bad about themselves because they are not where I am. I cannot emphasize enough that it took a terrible situation followed by a terrible job followed by an amazing relationship and a job that put in control for me to get to the point I am now. It also took a lot of introspection. It takes a lot of work. I still work on it all the time.
Dan is the best, and I do not discredit his awesomeness. I still ask him every time if it's ok that I go spend time with my friends. He always says yes, because in his mind it's not even a thing. For me, it's a thing, and he knows that. He encourages me to be me, because that is the woman he loves. He does not love someone who grows resentful for trying to live up to made up expectations he doesn't even have. He loves the strong, independent person who hides behind the fear of disappointing people.
That fear is useless now. I have learned. I have been through a low place where making other people "happy" seemed to make sense, but no more. It is not about trying to be everything to the people in my life. It has become about listening to my own needs, and listening to the needs of the people around me and deciding what middle ground will make us both satisfied. This is something I can't even believe I had never considered before. I have never considered that my over zealous desire to satisfy another person has harmed them. Now that I take the time to listen to what people are asking for rather than trying to anticipate it, I have found greater freedom and satisfaction in actually being that person, simply because what people seem to actually need is honesty.
Honesty, a lack of judgement, and empathy. This is what people need, not a "yes man" who just does what they want them to with no thought for themselves. It's based on lies, and no one is helped by it.
So, folks, here is my point. This is it. Stop trying to be everything to everyone. It's a hard habit to break, but I promise it's worth it. I promise you that things only get better. I promise you that you will be respected and loved. It is work, and I am behind you. I support you being you, doing the right thing for you. Whether it be running away or simply reserving Tuesdays for friend time rather than significant other time. You are going to be ok, and everyone else will be ok without you. It's not your job. The happiness of everyone else is not your job. It's not MY job. I have to remind myself all the time, and I'm here to remind you. It's ok. We're ok. You are ok. Happiness is a personal commitment, so let other people commit to themselves, and you commit to you. We'll all take care of each other by taking care of ourselves.
I don't know if this was exactly coherent, and I don't care. I said what I needed to say, and I really do have a great deal of love and compassion for my fellow people pleasers. We'll either get over it, or be stuck. That's not my problem to fix, but I'll be here if you ever need someone to help you support yourself.
Love love,
Becky
*I need to say one last thing: I don't allow what happened between me and Hawaii guy paint the full picture of who he is. He was not good to me or for me. But in the long run, he got something out of it too. I got my power back by realizing he was not good for me, but he's quit drinking. He is now married (I think) and living out of the country with his wife. Not all people turn themselves around, and I resist the victim mentality of saying, "Oh, he's a good guy who just got upset sometimes." Because in the end, he was still hurtful. But I have faith in humanity, and I really don't think that he was ever inherently bad. He was broken too. He was using his past and acting out in the only way he knew how. I don't like him, but I also don't hate him. I don't know what I'm saying here. I guess, what I'm really going for is that I don't think anyone should get in the middle of my past. I have dealt with it, and he has dealt with it. I was not passive with him when I left, nor was I passive when he tried to contact me after I left. I was very clear with him, and instead of falling into his old patterns he tried, and from what I know succeeded, and bettered himself. Good for him. I will never speak to him again, but I don't think there's any room in my life for hate. So I don't hate him. Neither should you.
The end.
What I am is afraid of hurting people's feelings.
I've always been afraid of that. It is my biggest fear. Because of that I have spent a good part of my life being a people pleaser.
That said, I think people pleasers are sad, miserable people who will never meet their true potential because they hold themselves back.
I think most of us can sort of agree with that, right? Whether it be failure or speaking in front of a crowd, our fears hold us back. People pleasing is just the fear of hurting other people's feelings or disappointing an imaginary ideal we believe other people have of us.
I've noticed lately, which is one of the reasons I want to write this, that I know a lot of strong, powerful women who are sad, miserable people pleasers.
It's sounds harsh, I know. I also know that when I spent most of my time trying to please everyone, I was sad and miserable.
Now is for the uncomfortable part: how I learned not to worry so much.
It was not an overnight change. I didn't wake up one day and decide I was over being a door mat and then stopped. No. No fucking way. It's been a process. It's still a process. Not only that, but my transition has been painful.
Remember when I ran away to Hawaii? I remember that. I remember it all too well. I don't talk about it a lot because it's been a long and emotional road. I'm ready though. I think you all need to know this about me. Not because I need support or help, but because I'm ready to share this. I have this idea that people see me as this well adjusted, put together, knows-what-she's-about kind of person who doesn't take shit from anyone. That's at least how I see myself for the most part. But in Hawaii, I lived with a guy. I moved there for him. He's not a bad guy, but he wasn't a good guy. Not by a long shot.
What I'm trying to get at, what I'm beating around the bush about, is that I was in an abusive relationship. Rarely was it physically abusive (though at times, it was), it was certainly emotionally abusive.
A quick heads up: This is the part where I'm going to ramble on about specific memories until I find my way to my point. Stream of consciousness ftw!
We lived in a cinder block apartment with a group of meth heads on one side, and a family of Micronesians on the other. We didn't have windows, just jealousy blinds. The floor was institutional tile and the living room was taken up by our small sofa, the tv, and surf boards. The kitchen was two feet wide and opened directly into the living area. I hated being there. We slept on a futon in the bedroom. He was obsessed with tidiness. If I didn't pick all of my things up, it was sure to be a fight. We would fight, then fuck. If we didn't fuck we wouldn't speak for weeks. Literally weeks. Except for when I made dinner. Food, as it usually is, became my escape. I made massively elaborate meals almost every night. It impressed him and he would be sated the whole night, and I was usually put on a high pedestal for feeding him.
And hot damn, could he eat.
Little known fact about me: I like to watch people eat. Nay, I love it. It's almost a fetish. I would pay to watch someone eat with gusto.
I would make four portions, keep one for myself (which I would then split, one for dinner one for lunch the next day), feed him two portions for dinner and then one for lunch the next day.
It was the only thing we were always good with. We were always good when I made dinner, which was almost every night. As shitty as everything else was, I refuse to let go of how great that was.
But that was it. That was all we had. I was not allowed to have friends unless they were his friends too. I went out once in a while, without him, but it almost always ended with him drunkenly harassing me, or worse.
I didn't know what to do. I'd never been through this. I'd never met anyone who I was afraid of. I didn't even care about him that much, but what he said to me and what he thought of me mattered because it affected my daily life. My people pleasing tendencies went into hyper drive. If I pleased him, my life was actually easier, not just in theory.
I got out as fast as I could. It wasn't fast enough, but I did what I could. I lived like I made half as much money as I made, and I put every penny I could away so that I could move. At one point I didn't even care where I went as long as it was away. I had to get off that island. I had to run away because I didn't know what else to do. I had no idea how to stand up for myself.
It took 9 months for me to save enough money. That was after the first 4 months I spent taking the abuse like the good little pleaser I was. Those 9 months were hell. Can you imagine going almost a year without a hug? Without touch that wasn't sexual in nature? Without sexual interaction with your abuser, you would get absolutely no human connection? It was awful.
I can count the times I got non sexual touch on one hand. It was all from the same person, and I am so grateful for her. She was my friend Tiffany, who I got in trouble at work for being friends with because she was my employee, and she saved me. She gave me warm friend hugs. She gave me a safe place to escape to. She taught me a lot about being a strong woman. If you're reading this Tiffany, you'll never know how important you and Rob are to me. You will always be in my heart as one of my best friends.
So I got out. I left Hawaii. I was brave enough to do that. I left what I had in Hawaii to find what I used to have in New Mexico, only to find it gone. Life in Albuquerque had moved on without me. It was the lowest I have ever been. I was empty and naked and new.
In the Tarot, I would have been the fool. I was new. I had lost everything I thought I knew about myself and was ready to be reborn.
Was I reborn overnight? No. No I wasn't. This is a point I cannot emphasize enough. This was a turning point, not an overnight transformation.
I spent the next few years in New Mexico rebuilding. I met my partner, Dan, and I was amazed at the support he gave me. I resisted being in love with him, because it seemed that I would just be losing myself to the next person I met as was my habitual pattern. I was so used to just, losing myself. If I was in a relationship, I wasn't my own person. I wasn't, in my own mind, allowed to have my own opinions or my own life. I was a slave to my own expectations that I believed resided in other people's minds.
Dan was different and so was I. I never pretended once. I was clear with who I was and I never lie to make him like me more, something I was very accustomed to. He liked me for me, like that 90's song by Blessid Union of Souls. I even smoked in front of him, on our first date, something Hawaii guy had once threatened me (physically) not to do. Dan liked me. It was ok to just be me and to do things just for myself.
So then I had this terrible job. I've talked about it before. I hated it, it was demoralizing. I got paid to be a people pleaser. I had to console people who had skipped payments on their cell phone bill and act like it was my fault. MY FAULT. That THEY didn't pay their bill for months.
Boy howdy was I sick of taking the blame.
It wasn't my fault. None of it was. Yes, I made the choice to move to Hawaii with a guy I hardly knew, but it wasn't my fault he'd turned out to be a turd. It wasn't my fault that I went out on a "girl's night" with a coworker and he spent all the money I'd saved for Christmas presents for my family on coke (not the carbonated beverage) because he couldn't stand the thought of me being out where someone might hit on me. It wasn't my fault half of his paycheck went to drugs and alcohol. It wasn't my fault someone bought a faulty phone online and I couldn't activate it. None of it was my fault.
I can recall a point in my life when I would have gladly taken all of the blame. I would have taken all the pain for another person because I thought that's what love is. It's what I thought compassion and kindness are. I found myself trying to intuit what another person wanted from me and giving it to them before they asked for it. Then I was done. I was finished being a corporate door mat, and that translated into my personal life.
I found a new job. I was aggressive about it. I fought for the job I have at Rebel. I harassed the owner until she gave me a job. Because of that I am now a pivotal part of the company.
So I found a new job. I found someone who loved me for me. That would be enough for anyone to be happy, right?
Wrong.
There was a lot of pleasure in each, which I am fond of, but it was not happiness. Happiness came when I followed my own path in my own way, something I was uncomfortable with. Something I had yet to fully experience. But. . . I did experience it.
Last year I lost myself in my job.
Early this year I lost myself in Dan.
Both of these things are significant.
Both of these things are examples of me falling into the same tired, old patterns.
So here I was, lost in trying to be perfect for everyone else AND I WAS ALREADY SICK OF IT. So, I drew a line in the sand with work. I realized that my own well being was more important than any job ever could be, and I found boundaries I could work within that gave me the freedom to be good at my job without giving more than what it was worth. That was an epiphany.
With Dan though, that was more difficult. I could find a separation between work and life, but between Dan and life? That has been rough.
He's not controlling, at all. He's the least controlling person I've ever met. He is completely supportive of me being me, having control of my own life and doing whatever it takes to make me happy. The problem wasn't Dan, it was me. I was trying to anticipate what he wanted from me without ever taking myself into consideration, even though he did. He cared about my happiness, but all I knew how to do was pretend I was happy and "help" him be happy. In the way Hawaii boy would have been placated.
Guess what that did?
Nothing good.
So, I had to change.
I had to revisit my past. I did not want to. It is painful and it makes me feel ashamed. What strong woman is controlled by a man?
Apparently, me.
But like I'd said, I was broken. I was down to the barest part of me. The naked, vulnerable part of me. The part that was willing to change everything so that I never had to feel the way I had ever again.
So I changed. I had to. I had to figure out how to protect this new vulnerable, beautiful, naked part of myself. That naked part of me is still alive. It is a living, breathing, part of my existence now. I had to be broken before I could find that pure thing in me. The pureness of failing every expectation I had of myself and still being ok. Still being me.
I decided I could no longer live by those expectations, they were all made up anyway.
I began living on my terms, and something amazing happened. My terms turned out to be really great! Not only did they leave me with plenty of room to explore and exist, but they allowed me to truly hear what the people around me needed and expected from me. It was drastically different from what I thought they had wanted and needed.
It turns out, all they needed from me was me. The real me. The honest, vulnerable me. I had never realized before that I was useful just as myself.
But I was.
I am.
You are.
The point is, it took years to get here, but I don't people please anymore. I am good where I am. If we can't meet each other on some common ground, we're probably not going to be friends. I'm not changing what I am, or compromising what I need, to be yours.
I just got to this point though. Like, I have only now realized all of these things about myself. I keep bringing this up for one simple reason: I know a lot of people pleasers, who are inherently perfectionists, who will feel bad about themselves because they are not where I am. I cannot emphasize enough that it took a terrible situation followed by a terrible job followed by an amazing relationship and a job that put in control for me to get to the point I am now. It also took a lot of introspection. It takes a lot of work. I still work on it all the time.
Dan is the best, and I do not discredit his awesomeness. I still ask him every time if it's ok that I go spend time with my friends. He always says yes, because in his mind it's not even a thing. For me, it's a thing, and he knows that. He encourages me to be me, because that is the woman he loves. He does not love someone who grows resentful for trying to live up to made up expectations he doesn't even have. He loves the strong, independent person who hides behind the fear of disappointing people.
That fear is useless now. I have learned. I have been through a low place where making other people "happy" seemed to make sense, but no more. It is not about trying to be everything to the people in my life. It has become about listening to my own needs, and listening to the needs of the people around me and deciding what middle ground will make us both satisfied. This is something I can't even believe I had never considered before. I have never considered that my over zealous desire to satisfy another person has harmed them. Now that I take the time to listen to what people are asking for rather than trying to anticipate it, I have found greater freedom and satisfaction in actually being that person, simply because what people seem to actually need is honesty.
Honesty, a lack of judgement, and empathy. This is what people need, not a "yes man" who just does what they want them to with no thought for themselves. It's based on lies, and no one is helped by it.
So, folks, here is my point. This is it. Stop trying to be everything to everyone. It's a hard habit to break, but I promise it's worth it. I promise you that things only get better. I promise you that you will be respected and loved. It is work, and I am behind you. I support you being you, doing the right thing for you. Whether it be running away or simply reserving Tuesdays for friend time rather than significant other time. You are going to be ok, and everyone else will be ok without you. It's not your job. The happiness of everyone else is not your job. It's not MY job. I have to remind myself all the time, and I'm here to remind you. It's ok. We're ok. You are ok. Happiness is a personal commitment, so let other people commit to themselves, and you commit to you. We'll all take care of each other by taking care of ourselves.
I don't know if this was exactly coherent, and I don't care. I said what I needed to say, and I really do have a great deal of love and compassion for my fellow people pleasers. We'll either get over it, or be stuck. That's not my problem to fix, but I'll be here if you ever need someone to help you support yourself.
Love love,
Becky
*I need to say one last thing: I don't allow what happened between me and Hawaii guy paint the full picture of who he is. He was not good to me or for me. But in the long run, he got something out of it too. I got my power back by realizing he was not good for me, but he's quit drinking. He is now married (I think) and living out of the country with his wife. Not all people turn themselves around, and I resist the victim mentality of saying, "Oh, he's a good guy who just got upset sometimes." Because in the end, he was still hurtful. But I have faith in humanity, and I really don't think that he was ever inherently bad. He was broken too. He was using his past and acting out in the only way he knew how. I don't like him, but I also don't hate him. I don't know what I'm saying here. I guess, what I'm really going for is that I don't think anyone should get in the middle of my past. I have dealt with it, and he has dealt with it. I was not passive with him when I left, nor was I passive when he tried to contact me after I left. I was very clear with him, and instead of falling into his old patterns he tried, and from what I know succeeded, and bettered himself. Good for him. I will never speak to him again, but I don't think there's any room in my life for hate. So I don't hate him. Neither should you.
The end.
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