To Err on the Side of Kindness

Five years ago I went through the worst break-up in my life. I was living in Chicago; I had moved there to be with the woman I was dating. She and I were close, talked about spending the rest of our lives together and having children.

I should interject:  to drag you through the entire Chicago story would be unnecessary. Most of you have had some awful experience in love where betrayal came to choke the life out of your heart. So I'll get to the point as swiftly as possible. And what's more, I want to talk about what's at the end of the Chicago story, not the Chicago story itself. Nevertheless, a truncated back story seems beneficial in light of the strange thing I did at the end my relationship there.

To help understand the
deceit I read this philosophy
 book a second time.

This woman I loved began vying for the attentions of another man while we were still together. He lived in Philadelphia. They started calling each other on the phone all the time and sending each other packages - and my girlfriend started lying to me about it. It's hard to say if she physically cheated on me. Maybe she did on that fateful trip to Philadelphia months prior when she met this man, but I don't know for sure. And this is not a forum for such conjecture. It is clear, however, she cheated on me emotionally - and none of it would have been as bad if she had just been honest with me.

I broke up with her when the lies hit an all time high, but the real reason was that she didn't love me anymore. It was frustrating to be the one to do the work, to bring up the tough subject. I didn't want us to end, but I knew what to do. My bootstraps got pulled up to my ears that week.

The betrayal stung me fiercely and I couldn't let it go. We lived together still, which gave rise to another set of problems. I made our apartment hostile. I questioned my ex relentlessly and a day did not go by where I didn't remind her of her betrayal. I punched walls. I yelled. I cried to the point of snot - right in front of her. I think I even stabbed the kitchen counter with a knife. I probably scared the shit out of her. Looking back at it, I'm still not proud of this madness. It was wrong and while my ex deserved no quarter, I didn't blame her for moving to her sister's place temporarily.

Me - crying to the point of snot.

I had no friends in Chicago; I was completely isolated. I decided to move back to Seattle. My spirit had been murdered and I needed to be near my family and friends. I needed a safe place to lick my wounds.

But I still wasn't done with my ex. I needed to say or do something to make things clear, to show her a different version of love . . . one that she would never forget. I needed to find a graceful way to release her while defending myself tactfully.

My ex agreed to drive me to the airport the day I left. When she arrived at the apartment that morning many things happened, but the most important thing to mention (for the purpose of this blog) is that I handed her a sealed envelope. I told her she couldn't open it until she had returned from the airport.

We said our tearful goodbyes near the gate to security, huddled between some luggage and my poor cat, Eva, who sat frightfully in a carrier. My ex kissed me. I kissed her back. She kissed me again. I kissed her again. She went in for another kiss. I stopped her and slowly pushed her away. She walked away crying. That was the last time I saw her.

When she got home she opened the envelope and inside she found a voucher for a plane ticket to see her new boyfriend in Philadelphia.

Behind the voucher was a tiny note that basically asked her to not misinterpret the gift, that I didn't give it to her out of spite, that it stemmed only from deep, unparalleled love. The very last part of the note implored for her, in the event of difficulties or fear or indecision or a million other things, to err on the side of kindness.

This notion still guides me today. I employ this kindness in the face of fear all the time. But I screw it up on occasion too, slipping into anger and doing things that breed anger. It's challenging to stick with kindness as a way of life. We have tremendous pressure to fight those who trespass against us. Conversely, we have very little education and few mentors to show us a more graceful way. Some of my friends thought I was insane for giving a gift to someone who betrayed me. One friend even wanted to fly to Chicago and burn all of my ex-girlfriend's belongings. But I think my friends eventually understood the reason why I acted the way I did. And moreover, in this moment of clarity, I feel bold enough to say that love like this is not often rewarded - mainly, because it is misunderstood as co-dependence or insanity. Make your own interpretations.

The benefit of kindness is difficult to see sometimes and it must be given without expectation. When I gave my  ex that flight voucher I dropped all expectations to see any good come of it. I admit to having a hope we would be friends again one day, but having a hope is much different than harboring expectation. Before I left Chicago, I wanted my ex to learn from her mistakes and I obsessed constantly over the possibility she might come to me one day to explain her shortcomings and apologize through and through for them. Giving her that gift somehow helped me let go of that too. It doesn't matter to me anymore whether or not she learned her lesson.

What matters more is that I did my best to err on the side of kindness.

. . . and then I got better.