A few years ago, I went to see a healer in Bali. She was this beautiful strange woman working on balancing energies. She asked me to talk about how I felt and why I had come to see her. We talked for a long time and at some point she stopped and said: “It’s not your fault”. I stared at her and started crying.
She made me say it out loud. It’s not my fault. She asked me to translate it in French and to yell it. Ce n’est pas ma faute. Again and again and again. I felt self-conscious and weird, I didn’t understand why she was making me do that. But I knew it was touching something deep inside of me. After the session I went home, it was the middle of the afternoon, and I slept for 16 hours straight.
I never believed that it was my fault. But I believed that when people hurt me, it was because I hadn’t done enough, hadn’t been enough, that I could have, should have, been more considerate about what they needed. I believed that people couldn’t help themselves, they would have never hurt me intentionally, they were simply not aware, and if they didn’t know they were hurting me, then I was the one being dramatic about it. When facing the fact, I believed that there was some information I was missing, some feelings involved or other people interfering or past stories I didn’t know about, that the fact couldn’t be true as is, that I was misunderstanding the situation, there was another explanation.
I never believed that it was my fault because they’re not the words I was used to hear in my thoughts. But I believed that when people hurt me, they were not responsible for hurting me, I was responsible for feeling hurt. Which comes from a similar place.
As a result, I never blamed anyone for hurting me. I never felt angry at anyone, not consciously. I never said to anyone that they had hurt me. I was often not even aware of feeling hurt. It felt somehow easier for me to lay low, not say anything, not set boundaries, not have uncomfortable conversations, not exist too much. It felt easier to keep getting hurt rather than take a stand and matter.
It took me years to integrate that it wasn’t my fault because it asked for a reprogramming of my entire belief system.
I had to learn that what I feel matters and that my feelings are valid. And that it remains true no matter what happens and who’s involved. I had to observe with compassion all that I had accepted without saying anything and where I needed now to set boundaries. I had to forgive myself for not protecting myself and for allowing other people’s comfort be more important than mine. I had to entirely rewrite my story as I was finally seeing things as they had been and not as they could have been.
And ultimately I had to find the right balance in my relationships. And to do that, I needed to understand why people had been hurting me.
The trap would be to believe that if it’s not my fault, then it’s inevitably theirs. They hurt me, it’s their fault. It is not necessarily true. Believing that it’s other people’s fault leads to blame and victimisation. Identifying as a victim dissolves your power and never really helps.
In our society, we often assess if it was done on purpose. It is so common to hear people say that they didn’t have bad intentions when they hurt you, as if not having bad intentions decreases the hurt they caused. I hit you but I didn’t mean to harm you. Yes, but you’ve been hit anyway and by someone whose actions are not aligned with their intentions, by someone who is not aware, which seems even more unsafe.
I believe assessing if it was done on purpose is not the right question to ask, it doesn’t matter much. Because I don’t believe we ever hurt one another intentionally, even when it looks like it.
I believe people are good. Deep down we all have a pure heart and a kind soul. Every human being is able to be compassionate and loving and brave. What prevents people from being compassionate and loving and brave lives in the subconscious mind — as insecurities, traumas, protection mechanisms, beliefs and past injunctions. Suffering. And sometimes suffering is so intense and deep that it changes the way the brain functions — what our society calls mental illnesses. Whoever decides to free himself from suffering comes back to a pure heart and a kind soul.
As the saying says, hurt people hurt people.
People hurt people, not because they’re intrinsically bad, but because somewhere along their way they got hurt so deeply that they had to disconnect from themselves to survive. They unconsciously chose to close their heart to be able to keep functioning. And it’s not their fault. It is not their fault. As it was not my fault.
Some people who have done very terrible things are very relatable. Because when you look behind the facts and try to understand the why, it all goes down to suffering and the roots of suffering are always the same.
In the series You, the main actor — who stalks and kills people — goes to his therapist with his wife and says: “I’m afraid that if someone sees the real me, they’ll go away. For good”. His therapist concludes: “Your fear of abandonment is so deep it feels downright kill-or-be-killed”.
Killing is of course an extreme kind of hurt, and thankfully it is not that common. But whether it is to kill or to ghost, there is this similar kind of shame at the root. Not feeling accepted for who you are, not feeling loved for who you are, and ultimately fearing of being rejected for who you are that creates super strong protection mechanisms.
The society we live in tells us the same story. We live in a society where we constantly ask for external validation while not engaging with anybody. It is a very toxic paradox. We care deeply about what others think while not caring for them. We ask people to give us the love we crave for while not taking the risk to love them. Apathy is so present in our daily lives that we don’t even see it anymore. It erodes us as human beings.
People hurt people because they’re so blinded by their own suffering, they don’t — or maybe can’t — care enough about how their behavior would affect others.
This is why assessing if it was done on purpose is not the right question to ask. We shouldn’t ask people if they hurt others on purpose. We should ask them if they’re aware they hurt others because they suffer, because they couldn’t care enough about how another human being would feel. We should ask them if they’re willing to face themselves and heal.
Your suffering is not your fault, but it’s your responsibility. Hurt people are responsible for not passing along their suffering. I am responsible for not passing along my suffering. And this is why I’m working so hard to heal. Because I don’t want to cause anyone else the pain I’ve experienced. I may not be responsible for what I’ve received but I’m responsible for what I give back. And I’m constantly looking for the right balance between compassion for what I’ve been through and accountability for how I behave in the world. Having suffered doesn’t give you a free pass to hurt people around you.
You can choose to end your relationship, leave your job, take some distance with someone who loves you, even break a promise. You can take some decisions that would affect people around you in a negative way. But if you care for them as human beings, you’ll do it with respect and compassion. You’ll take the time to talk, and communicate, and explain, and be there if needed. It will not be a nice experience for them but it won’t hurt.
We’ll keep experiencing hurt in our lives. Hurt is inevitable. Because most people are not aware they’re suffering, they don’t even know they need to heal. And they won’t. We collectively built an outside world so busy and distracting that we can indefinitely avoid feeling what we’re feeling. Hurt is and will be a constant part of our lives. We can’t avoid it. But we can own it and let it teach us.
When you get hurt, own it. Hold the people who hurt you accountable for hurting you while finding compassion in your heart for their suffering. Have the uncomfortable conversation and decide what’s best for you. Surround yourself with people who make you feel safe and loved.
When you hurt people, own it too. Hold yourself accountable for hurting them while finding compassion in your heart for your own suffering. Have the uncomfortable conversation too and learn from your experiences. Reflect on what you need to heal and do the work.
Side Note: It is important to learn the difference between getting hurt and getting triggered. Getting hurt is when someone’s behavior directly causes you contractive emotions — as sadness, anger or fear. While getting triggered is when someone’s behavior unconsciously reminds you of past traumas and brings back deeper feelings — as unworthiness, unlovability, insecurity. When you get triggered, even though it feels like that someone’s behavior is the source of your pain, it’s not, you’re the one who needs to heal.
The good news is that when you heal, you start to feel that even when you get hurt, it doesn’t change who you are because it has nothing to do with you. Even when you get hurt, you don’t feel hurt. And that is power.
The other good news is that on your way back to yourself, to your pure heart and kind soul, you relearn how to care again. How to smile at people with compassion, how to talk to people with presence, how to touch them with love. Not just the people you love, but every human being you cross path with. And that is power too.
Kindness is pure strength. It feels so much better to be kind. It is so much easier. Let your kindness inspire the ones who don’t know how to access it anymore.
I love you,
Camille
In the next newsletter, I’ll answer your Dear Me questions. You can ask spiritual questions, advices, share about some experiences you’re dealing with, or anything that is passing through your heart and mind. Questions are anonymous.