resentment & resource

Shifting resentment is not going to be easy for me; it’s part of my identity. My family of origin was steeped in blame. Resentment was allowed–even subtly encouraged–in my home. We practiced it together. We directed resentment toward relatives, neighbors, politicians–and each other. Since childhood I have practiced resentment more than enough to complete the 300-3000 repetitions required for a behavior to become automatic.

Resentment is now one of my automatic superpowers. This superpower bestows upon me the ability to perceive the slightest whiff of insult, injury, or inconsiderateness that “could-have-harmed-me!–What were they thinking?!” I have the ability to feel put-out, offended, or victimized in a matter of seconds.

Resentment has many faces; it can look like resignation, passivity, martyrdom, silent suffering, or whining, or it can show up as attacking, blaming, or guilt-tripping others. Resentment can take the form of self-righteous attacks on people who have wronged me or my group.

RESENTMENT IS JUSTIFIED

Resentment is often justified. There is much in my family history that merits resentment. I have the perfect right. No one who knew my story would blame me for being resentful.

And recently, something completely unfair “happened to me;” I had to call up all of my privilege, skills and creativity just to get a basic need met. The bureaucracy, poor communication, condescending sexism, irresponsibility and just plain mean-spiritedness of others had put me in a very difficult situation. I can name all the ways I was wronged that day, in great detail. If you heard my story, you would probably agree that I have the right to resent.

So my resentment is often justified. But is it how I want to live?

We can respond with resentment to systematic injustice, too. Those of us who belong to an oppressed group could spend years reciting the litany of wrongs that oppression has inflicted on us, or the rights it has withheld from us. After all, we have suffered atrocities for centuries. If we used the rest of our lives to point out others’ wrongs, even that could never do justice to our suffering.

Ironically, systemic oppression is part of what caused me and my family to embrace the resentment habit in the first place. I am a female who was raised in a misogynist community. I am a lesbian living in a world made for heterosexuals. I am the child of a bitter, upper-class aspiring, lower middle class father. I am part of a multi-generational lineage of child sexual abuse victims. I am a grandchild and great-grandchild of foster-care system survivors and poverty-driven immigrants. Me and my family, we have every right to be resentful.

Many people have far more right and reason than I do to be resentful. The generations of First Nations people who have survived residential schools, for example:

http://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1100100015644/1100100015649

Or, people with disabilities, who have been mistreated and isolated for centuries:

http://resistinc.org/newsletters/articles/changing-framework-disability-justice

The human world offers so many reasons to feel resentful.

Resentment is often justified. But is it how we want to live?

THE DOWNSIDE OF RESENTMENT

Resentment has many downsides:

For me, the body-mood that accompanies resentment is brooding. I become stuck in a mental loop, endlessly rehashing slights and insults. This loop obscures all kinds of possibilities and creative options. My resentment habit makes me miserable.

Resentment also freezes me and everyone else into a static object: “I am someone who has been wronged.” “You are the one who wronged me.” “It’s their fault.” “There’s nothing I can do.”

The habitual aspect of resentment is another downside. When resentment is a habit, there is no end to it—because there will always be something–or someone–new to resent.

Resentment is the mood of a victim. It dis-empowers us. Resentful thoughts are a clear indicator that my energy is focused outside of myself. My attention is on what others are doing or not doing: “They overlooked me.” “Look at what she is doing to me!” “If only he would change, then I could do what I need to do.” When I place my attention on others in this way, I abandon my own power. I feel like a victim.

It’s funny, because in the social world, I am not a powerless victim. Not even close. Whether or not I can access the feeling of agency, my social identity as an English-speaking white woman with a Christian upbringing, middle class mannerisms and no obvious disabilities means that my actions or inactions have a disproportionate impact on others. When I am cranky, put-out or bitter; when I spiral down into a state of reactivity (where I am hijacked by my amygdala into automatic fight, flight, freeze, appease or dissociate responses); when I feel “helpless” and lash out, undermine, or passively aggress, or zone out, withdraw, quit, placate, etc., I can harm a lot of people. Women of my race, class and education level are often in administrative or gatekeeping positions where our behavior profoundly impacts the daily lives of people of color, poor and working class people, transgender people, and people with disabilities. My resentment habit makes others miserable.

Resentment has downsides that can annoy us, get in our way, or destroy our lives.

THE UPSIDE OF RESENTMENT

Are there any upsides to resentment? Yes. For me, resentment has been a kind of armor. The toughness and numbness of resentment was much easier to feel than loss, confusion, grief, rage or terror. When no one was there to help me bear these feelings, resentment was an intelligent survival strategy that helped me to endure. In my early life resentment was a viable way to survive hardship.

Resentment was also a way for me to fit in with my family. A way to be loyal. Resentment was part of how my family and I recognized one another. Part of how we loved one another. As we suffered together and resented together, we understood one another.

Finally, resentment gave the younger me a way to bear witness to injustice, and the words to express resistance to oppression.

I am grateful to my resentment habit for these gifts. But it is not how I want to live.

RECYCLING RESENTMENT INTO RESOURCE

We can recycle resentment by building on its “upside.” We can investigate the properties of resentment, and discover its hidden resources.
For example, you could describe me as having a “quick-to-resent” temperament. I am hyper-vigilant to slights or injustices. I notice I am in good company in social justice circles; many of us have a similar “quick-to-resent” response.

If I look underneath my resentful responses, I find a sensitivity to the nuances of power. I am quick to notice what people are doing or not doing, and how that impacts—or may impact—myself or others. I can spot the potential for unfairness or hardship that follows when people make assumptions about or are oblivious to others. My instant, practiced response is anger, contempt, judgment or critique (and underneath, hurt and despair.) I am highly sensitive to people’s impact on myself and others. Such sensitivity can be a resource.

What other resources are hidden within my resentment habit? A longing for all people to have their needs attended to. I want people to feel seen and met and included. I want people to be free. I want dignity for all. I want choice, consent, and accommodation. These are good things to want.

How can I appreciate and build on these resources of sensitivity and caring without getting stuck in resentment? How can I work for justice without turning people into static objects, or viewing others with contempt?

First, I can warmly greet my resentment habit when it arises: “Thank you for protecting me all these years.” “Thank you for fighting injustice.”

Next, I can shift my focus from what others are doing (or not doing) to what I am doing.
I can ask myself, what do I want to create? What do I care about? What do I want to become?

I want to create environments that make space for everyone’s needs to be included.

I care about supporting others to name and ask for what they need.

I want to become a warm, steady, thoughtful presence.

Now I can start to embody what I care about by choosing new behaviors to practice 300-3000 times, such as the practice of offering respect to everyone, or the practice of asking people what they need to be able to participate. Other practices I can take on include;

• softening my gaze when I look at others;
• practicing generosity and patience when others appear to be inconsiderate;
• reminding myself that folks are not telepathic;
• persistently stepping up to advocate for myself and others;
• forgiving us all when we are not perfect, and opening my heart again.

We are not powerless victims. Not even close. Even our resentment is resourceful.