Coming from a broken family, I always wondered why I was often hurt by people around me, more so when I did nothing wrong to begin with. Most of the time, I end up getting hurt by the one I love the most. I never made sense of that then; I still have yet to make sense of it now. If it was because of the expectations I placed on them, well then, it made no sense still as I rarely placed expectations on people as I know how burdening that could get. I always loved letting people be their true self and would only comment on something if I felt that their behaviour was detrimental not only to them but also to others around them.
And the truth is, I never stopped being kind to someone just because they hurt me. I often felt, based on my childhood, that most people out there in this world rarely experience kindness and that the world is so cynical to begin with and so instead of wishing and waiting for kindness to be shown to me, I often showed kindness to people first, no matter how they viewed me. It took me a while to realise that by showing kindness to people who kept hurting me, my value in their eyes was slowly diminishing over the passing of time.
They labeled me a pushover and felt that I had no sense of self-respect. Some would say I’m a hypocrite, trying too much to be someone I’m not while others would say I’m a fool, blindly jumping off the cliff, not knowing what I’m doing. They begin to view me as someone who had no idea of self-love to begin with and well, when you don’t know how to love yourself, others wouldn’t too right?
In a way, yes, I didn’t know how to love myself but more so because I wasn’t familiar with the idea of love. My act of kindness simply stemmed from the fact that I felt that those around me seemed harsh and hard to other people and well, I thought maybe if they had some sort of kindness showed to them, it would make them want to be kind as well. I thought maybe if they knew how kindness felt like, it would make them soften a little, for I knew that being hard on others meant that internally, you were hard on yourself too. And when so many people out there are already unkind to you, why must you be unkind to yourself too?
That was my basis for my kindness. That still is.
And though being kind and helpful to others fills me with a kind of self-satisfaction unlike before, it also fills me with a tinge of sadness when people look down upon me as if I’m unable to comprehend the meaning of the world.
Someone asked me whether being kind was worth it when I kept being hurt by others and taken advantage upon.
Well, it is.
To me it is.
I’ve always been in loved with this quote by Princess Diana.
“Because I do things differently, because I don’t go by a rule book, because I lead from the heart, not the head, and albeit that’s got me into trouble in my work, I understand that. But someone’s got to go out there and love people and show it.”
I don’t think we should stop being kind just because we end up getting hurt – the best solution in this situation is to establish boundaries, something that I admit, I am not good at. I do not have boundaries with people and frankly speaking, I might not have one.
But then again, I’m not a saint; I do have my shortcomings, too many of them to be precise. Maybe that’s why I want to continue being kind to people as long as I can. Because my demons are too heavy and painful to bear and I’d like to have at least a little amount of light touching them, touching me so that I can feel a little less burdened with the darkness within me.
I am nowhere near where Princess Diana was, nor do I think will I ever be but I’d like to be able to say on my deathbed that I’ve left a few people smiling and better off than the time that I met them. I’d like to be able to say that I’ve impacted a few people’s life positively, because that to me is ultimately the best way you would want to be known and remembered for.