Fun fact: I was bullied in middle school. Like, bad - the stuff movies are made of. Now I'll be the first to admit I did a few unsavory things myself, which may have pissed a few people off, but, well... it's a long story, and if you know anything about me by now, you know I can't skip a detail. And it's for that reason that today is not actually the day I dive into the whole thing. There are about a million sub-topics, lessons, and reflections to cover from my middle-school experience, but today all you need to know is - I was bullied, and as a result, I know *deep in my bones* what it feels like to be bullied.
It was such a relief when the bullying ended - somewhat abruptly - that we never really talked about it afterwards. I even became best friends with some of my former bullies (like I said, A LOT to unpack here) and things were sort of swept right under the rug. "Kids will be kids," right? And so, as you might imagine, even here at age 37 I'm still sorting through this experience for myself, and every now and then I get that feeling of an all-too-familiar dagger in my side; some might call it a trigger. This happened just a few months back. I felt it in my bones, but it wasn't until I watched Brené Brown's Atlas of the Heart special on HBO Max (highly recommend!) that I found the words to explain what was happening.
Because here's the thing: kid bullies are obvious. They kick you in your shins, steal your lunch money, and call you names. In my case, they left a scratched out and ripped up copy of my own school photo in my locker for me to find; they pasted my head onto a woman's body - in a compromising position - from a magazine and made enough photocopies to hand out to the entire grade; they hand-wrote me letters explaining how I was the worst and they hoped I was adopted and that my real parents would come and take me to live on the other side of the world. Elaborate and creative? Yes. Also - pretty friggin cruel. My point is: you know when a kid bully is being a bully. But an adult bully is a more complicated creature, and can often leave us feeling really icky while still somehow managing to keep up appearances for themselves. Which, in my experience, is only that much more infuriating.
In Brené's Atlas of the Heart she talks about this mind-blowing Buddhist concept called the "near enemy." You see, the far enemy is that obvious shit: the far enemy of compassion is cruelty; we know that one, we know that someone is not being compassionate when they are being cruel. But the near enemy of compassion? Pity. The near enemy is the one that really gets you because it disguises itself as the thing that would be really kind in the moment but actually undercuts you in a way that leaves you feeling like you're in the wrong for not receiving it well and/or it just doesn't serve you in the long run (think: enabling behavior). The thing that the near enemies of these positive virtues lack is true connection.
Another example: the near enemy of love is attachment and co-dependency. This is the partner who became possessive, jealous, and controlling and said it was because they cared so much. The near enemies keep a distance between the two people, typically the one exercising this near enemy is placing themselves "above" the other person in some way. They don't see themselves as equals, they don't allow themselves to feel what the other person is feeling.
This can happen a lot in the spiritual community, where a sense of detachment or apathy can be guised as "equanimity" or "calm," and excessive optimism can be guised as "joy" or simply having a "positive attitude." Spiritual bypassing is a term used to describe the use of spiritual practices to avoid actually dealing with the thing, be it a conflict between colleagues, or a deep personal issue that needs to be processed.
So, coming back to the bully. They can be harder to spot and, frankly, they may not even know they're doing it. So when you find yourself sitting across from someone with an irritating smile plastered across their face, saying all the "right things," and yet you still feel that pit in your stomach, that feeling that you're shrinking in your seat, that frustration that you can't actually put your finger on what it is that's pissing you off to the point you think that YOU must be the one with the problem... it's probably not you. It's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Trust your gut - trust your bones.
Like most things, simply bringing awareness and having words to describe this sensation is the best antidote. While it's easy to create boundaries in our lives that cut out and protect us from the far enemies, like cruelty, it can be a more complicated surgery to identify and remove the near enemies. So, I did my best to make a little list to help us spot them when it's happening. One thing I want to remind you of before you go around pointing fingers is - it might be you. I know I've been guilty of applying pity when I meant to express empathy, and I'm sure I've been controlling when I intended to be loving and helpful. So it's not about judging, calling out, or making one person "better" than the other - remember, that's the thing that causes the disconnect in the first place.
Okay here are some signs that there might be a near enemy lurking in disguise:
Insincerity
Hypocrisy
Self-serving behavior
Comparison
Only letting select feelings/emotions exist in a space
Conditionality
Feeling small
Feeling discounted, glossed over, or not seen
Feeling looked down on, less than
An unsustainable relationship dynamic
Feeling disconnected
I’ve been so fascinated by this concept that I simply had to share. I hope having this language, and this self-awareness, helps you to validate your feelings when someone is being sneaky-mean, and most importantly that it helps you to create deeper and more sincere connections with the people in your life. Because, after all, that’s what it’s all about!
xo,
m.
