I thought I was an empathetic person when I was 20. I definitely believed in the value of empathy, but I think I was actually a sympthetic person. I think there’s a distinction between empathy and sympathy. I wanted to be aware of the pain in the world, and I had sympathy for what others were going through. I was also pretty good at reading peoples emotions. But empathy is something bigger than just being able to recogonize what people are feeling, or being really sad about all the bad things happening in other parts of the world.
Empathy requires a desire to understand – and share – someone elses feelings. It’s something intentional that has to be cultivated. It requires listening without judgement, and truly wanting to understand someones point of view. I was sympatheic to the suffering of others, but I didn’t really understand their suffering.
The Heirachy of Pain (and why it’s a bad thing)
In college (in the time honored tradition of being exposed to new perspectives), I discovered social justice issues, and wanted to tackle all of them. Human trafficking, world hunger, etc. I thought I needed to care about the big things, and all of them. And it very quickly got overwhelming.
It led to subconciously creating a heirarchy of pain. Poverty in the U.S. wasn’t “as bad” as poverty in third world countries. Someone’s pet dying wasn’t “as painful” as a family member dying. I did not say these things outloud, but I know that I was subconciously putting pain on a scale and this was rooted in the belief that there was just too much suffering to care about it all. I had to choose the worst things to put my energy into fixing. It was a false dichotomy that led me to being careless with the suffering of people around me, and also with my own suffering.
I often used “perspective” to talk myself out of feeling bad. I would say to myself–there are people starving, there are girls being sold into sex slavery, etc. to tell myself what I was going through wasn’t really a big deal. (It didn’t really work). This trickled over into how I related to others. I did care, but I also judged. In conflict, I often put myself in opposition to those with differing views, and I was defensive.
You can’t really understand the pain someone else is feeling if you create a hierarchy and place their pain on your own personal pain scale. You won’t really have empathy for someone’s suffering if you judge it to be unworthy of their response to it. Perspective has its place (especially when it comes to practicing gratitude or to understanding larger historical context), but it is not all that helpful when it comes to individual suffering.
Everyone’s 10, is a 10.
I don’t know who to quote here (it’s certainly not an original idea), but I’ve heard the phrase “Everyone’s 10, is a 10” and I really like it. It’s a concise way of saying that pain is personal. Someone else’s 10, might be a 2 to you. Your 8, might be someone else’s 4. What feels like a 10 to you, may not feel like a 10 to someone else – but it doesn’t change how you feel. It is still a 10 to you. Someone telling you to “suck it up” because the cause of your pain “isn’t that big of a deal” is not going to alleviate your suffering. It’s entirely unhelpful. Pain cannot be compared in this way. Learning this lesson not only helps build empathy and understanding for others, it can also create space for you to give yourself compassion.
I grew up seeing too much emotion as a weakness. I wanted to fight the stigma about women being overly emotional. I wanted to come across as level-headed, reasonable, and put-together. (Don’t worry, I’ve since unpacked a lot of the misogyny layered in there). The result was a form of dissociation. When I start to talk about things very logically, I can pull myself out of it – separate myself from the pain of it and look at it from the outside. I will temporarily feel better, but it doesn’t last. I can’t keep the negative emotions at bay forever. These days, I’m trying to learn healthier coping mechanisms that allow me to feel and work through pain rather than ignore or bury it.
The Shame of Pain
A lot of the shame that I have been feeling about my separation is rooted in that lie I’ve always told myself about needing perspective. In other words, I tell myself that I have no right to feel this sad when others have it worse, or even just because my pain is not unique. It’s not ethical shame. I don’t think divorce is a sin, or that there should be any stigma. But I do often find myself believing that I should not be as devestated as I am, and that my pain is annoying to others. While writing this blog, I have thought to myself things like:
“Why can’t I just get over this? I shouldn’t be this devestated.”
“You’re not special. This is something that happens to loads of people.”
“No one wants to hear another middle aged woman talk about her divorce.”
“You shouldn’t be this sad. Other people have had it way worse.”
I am tempted to bury the sadness deep down so I can come across as “together” and appear to be handling this all so well. I often think that my sadness is “too much” and that talking about it is annoying to my friends and family. After all, it’s not unusual. People get divorced all the time.
But, my 10 is still my 10. I cannot think my way out of the pain. Being harsh towards myself is not helping alleviate the suffering. So–I am making room for self-compassion. Perspective isn’t going to help me get out of bed in the morning. Negative self-talk isn’t going to lessen my depression. The first step to healing is feeling. The next step, for me, is being kind to myself and allowing myself to feel without judgement.
Boundaries & Empathy
Empathy helps us to see other people’s humanity. It’s a very positive force, but as with all things, it can be taken too far. We could do with a lot more empathy and understanding in the world, but boundaries are also necessary when it comes to interacting with others. Setting boundaries is not unloving, or lacking empathy–it’s just a way to keep ourselves and our relationships healthy. Feeling my emotions and talking about them is important – but it doesn’t give me the right to emotionally dump on people either. There’s a balance here. We should set boundaries for ourselves, and respect the boundaries of others (without taking them personally). But more on that later…
Woman Asunder 