Hugo Schwyzer on love, hate, indifference, and forgiveness.
I was reminded of this story by an exchange with a friend today.
Dealing with the end of an intense romantic relationship is painful, regardless of the terms on which that relationship took place. Whether an unrequited obsession or a marriage, the adjustment to life without that one other person on whom you were so focused for so long is very difficult. And especially when we’ve had a hard time seeing a lover’s flaws, recovery may call for a period where we zero in on nothing but those shortcomings.
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The story:
Many years ago, during one of my intermittent attempts to get sober, I went into analysis. Yeah, old school Freudian analysis, four days a week, for an hour at a time. My psychiatrist, who had gone through the Los Angeles Psychoanalytic Institute, had me on the couch in his Pasadena office for nearly two years. My grandmother footed the bill. But when we made the family decision to put me through the famed Freudian process, it was my mother who told me about a dear friend of hers—another psychiatrist—whose own daughter had gone into analysis (with another doctor, of course, not her mother). My mother’s friend had told her daughter, “Boopsie, at some point during this process you will realize that you hate me. Don’t worry, the hate won’t last. But it’s a necessary stage in analysis.”
“Don’t be silly, Mom, the day could never come when I’d hate you!” Boopsie replied.
Six months later, the phone rang. When my mother’s friend answered, she heard her daughter’s voice: “Mom,” Boopsie said, “I just want you to know… it’s that day. I hate you.” Click.
Several weeks later, of course, the phone rang again. “Mom, I just want you to know, I don’t hate you anymore,” Boopsie announced with pride. Her mother laughed with her, and they cried together.
And yeah, I went through the same thing with my own mother.
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But it’s not just Freudian analysis with its high price tag that produces this process of progressing from idealization to angry contempt and then on to loving acceptance. It’s also part of a good breakup, as I discovered not long after I began the analytic journey.
As I’ve often written, early on in my teaching career I went through a period where I dated and slept with many of my students. Though all these relationships were consensual, at least in the legal sense, they were also deeply unethical. And while some were one-night stands, some lasted on-and-off for months, and in a couple of cases, over a year. One of the latter relationships was with a young woman named Tanya, with whom I slept periodically from late 1996 to early 1998. I was a complete jerk to Tanya, not only because our relationship had started when I was her professor, but also because she was someone who wanted an exclusive romantic relationship with me, something I had neither the willingness nor the ability to give at that turbulent and self-absorbed point in my life. As far as I was concerned, Tanya and I were “friends with benefits.” And yet my conscience wasn’t so drugged and numbed that it didn’t know damn well I was taking advantage of her feelings for me.
Finally, in early 1998, Tanya told me that it was too painful to continue to sleep with me when I could give her nothing more than sex, affection, and conversation. If I couldn’t commit, she told me, she’d need to stop seeing me altogether. She also told me she was starting therapy and was excited about where that would take her. Since I was, at this point, on dear Dr. Levine’s couch Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, I was all about therapy, and told Tanya I was excited for her.
I remembered my mother’s story, and shared it with Tanya. And at the end, I said, “You know, sometime soon you’re gonna wake up one day and realize you hate me. And because this isn’t a mother-child relationship, I’m not sure you’ll ever stop hating me.” (Yes, I was that narcissistic—until I got sober, so intensely focused on how I appeared in the minds and imaginations of others.) Tanya protested: “Hugo, I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to stop being in love with you because it hurts me. But I couldn’t ever hate you.”
I shook my head. “You will, you will. And you’ll have a right to.”
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Six months or so later, I nearly died (and nearly killed others) as a result of my own drug and booze-induced stupidity. After getting out of the hospital, I got sober. I took a vow of celibacy, went to various Twelve Step meetings every night, and—briefly—took Dr. Levine to an astonishing five days a week. Only a few weeks clean, and still very fragile, I got a call from Tanya, whom I hadn’t heard from in months.
I just stood there in the kitchen of my little condo, staring at the phone, feeling the awful recognition of how much pain I’d caused someone else. And then I picked up the phone and called my sponsor.
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Her voice was cold, clipped, deathly calm. “I just wanted you to know you were right. I hate you now. I hate your fucking guts. You’re a selfish prick,and I don’t know what I ever saw in you. I’m over you, asshole.”
I took a deep breath and started to shake. I was so fearful of relapse. Now I was the one teary-eyed while Tanya was the one with icy clarity. I knew better than to try to explain myself. “Um, uh, thank you. Thank you for calling.” The last bit came out more like a question. Tanya finished the chat: “Don’t ever call me. I don’t want to hear from you or speak to you, ever.” She hung up. I hadn’t had the chance to tell her that everything was changing in my life, that I was getting clean and clear, that I was celibate. I hadn’t had the chance to say I was sorry. I just stood there in the kitchen of my little condo, staring at the phone, feeling the awful recognition of how much pain I’d caused someone else. And then I picked up the phone and called my sponsor.
About a year later, I saw Tanya on the street. I saw her first as we walked in opposite directions on Colorado Boulevard in Old Town Pasadena. I pretended to examine a store window, hoping she’d pass me by. No chance. Tanya recognized me at once. She came up to me, and I braced myself, but her words and tone were different. “Hey, Hugo,”she said. “How are you?” “Great”, I stammered. “You?” Tanya told me her life was terrific. She had a boyfriend, and was in her last semester at Cal State Los Angeles.
We made a little bit of small talk, and then she said: “Hugo, I’m sorry I was so harsh with you last summer. I never thought I could hate you, and then I did. And once I started hating you, I didn’t think I’d ever stop hating you. But then that stopped too. And now, it just is. I don’t hate you, I don’t really feel much of anything for you. I hope you’re OK, and I wish you well, and that’s all there is.”
I’d already started the amends process, slowly tracking down the various people whom I’d wronged in my years of drinking and using and acting out sexually. I’d held off on Tanya because she’d told me not to contact her. But now, with her standing in front of me, I figured this was my moment. But before I’d finished my first halting sentence, Tanya held up her hand. “No, no. I don’t need to hear it,” she said, shaking her head. “I had my part, you had yours. It’s over, it’s done.” She smiled and did the only reasonable thing she could do: she held out her hand. I shook it, we nodded, smiled, and each headed our separate ways. I haven’t seen her since.
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Should Tanya have listened to my amends? It wasn’t her job to make it easy for me, as it wasn’t her job to tell me she didn’t hate me anymore. I didn’t get a chance to ask for forgiveness, nor did she indicate whether or not she forgave me. What she was clear on was that the love was gone and the hate as well, and she was at peace and wished me well. She’d finished her process, at least the part that involved me, and she’d needed to tell me that. I was glad she did.
Theologians and others often remark that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. Hate and love are opposite sides of the same coin, twinned emotions. And when we’ve loved someone the way a small child loves a parent, or the way an obsessed lover loves someone who loves her (or him) less, our healing and growth often require we spend some time opening ourselves to hate. In the case of a parent and child, the end result is, one hopes, an eventual strengthening of the bond on a whole new level. With an ex-lover, it’s different. Abusive love or unrequited love can be so painful that it leaves a great wound. The wound bleeds and bleeds until the love stops, and until the gash is cauterized by hate. Hate, like obsession, burns too hot to be healthy for long. But jeepers, sometimes we really need that burn. I’ve needed it in short bursts in my own life, as Tanya did in hers.
So yeah, I’m just repeating what someone famous for wisdom said some 2500 years ago. But old truisms sometimes benefit from modern illustrations.
Originally posted on hugoschwyzer.net.
—Photo faith goble/Flickr
The way Hugo is “unfolding” and revealing himself to The Good Men Project’s readers, like some sort wierd tropical flower, I’m wondering if we won’t soon be hearing confessions, on his part, to date rape.
Wait, wait, wait… Hold the phone here, Hugo. A few months back, I was undewr the impression, based on what you wrote, that you had had sexual relationships with ONE student who was OLDER than you. Now, all of a sudden, it’s “many students” and apparently some (or is it “many”?) younger that you? First of all, I feel something of a patsy. I disagree with you about many things, but I have defended you, publically, against MRAs who – I assumed – were making a mountain out of a molehill when the took you to task for seducing students,… Read more »
Idk Thaddeus….All I’ve ever heard out of Hugo’s mouth is how he dates from his student body…always with the qualifier of not only how they are of legal age, but also how they are “mature young women” or something to that effect. Maybe that’s where you got that impression?
I forgive you for that Thaddeus. You made an honest mistake, although I was hurt that your opinion of mra’s was so low as to assume that we would be so hypocritical as to make false allegations of sexual misconduct against a man.
My opinion of most MRAs = my opinion of most feminists: they are ideologues who see gender as if it were class in the Marxist sense.
If there is truth in that its in response to being dealt with as a class by marxist ideologues.
You should have a look at the new a voice for men site, its very fancy.
Thanks for sharing this story Hugo.
Shake baby shake baby 1, 2, 3….
How did you boinking your students effect their grades?
Hugo, I basically liked this. There are always crooked paths to our being adults. I have a similar history, although I avoided current students.
No that we know Hugo has personality disorder that affects less than 5% of the male population, can Hugo please stop projecting what he is, onto the whole male population in his writing please?
It also seems that Hugo’s slept with “many” students, several of them younger than he,. which tosses his constant diatribes against “male abuse of power” into new light.
Where have you been man? You sound post here more often.
Where have you been man? You sould post here more often.
I’ve been producing academic article after article and haven’t had time for The Good Men Project. I”ve turned in two articles here, however, and haven’t received any feedback from TGMP re: whether or not they are acceptable and, if not acceptable, what can be done to make them acceptable.
Given no feedback and articles rotting away, is it any wonder I’m not posting here more?
That’s a shame. I think you would be a good contributor here. I had been watching out for an article by you, but have given up.
To his credit, I dont’ think Hugo has ever claimed to no longer be a narcissistic prick. This is important as even narcissistic pricks must learn to live with themselves and others somehow. And in that respect Hugo’s columns have helped this narcissistic prick (and I hope others) a lot. Thanks, man.
Sincerely,
Wow.
Hugo, I disagree with you on nearly every topic. But I admire the hell out of your willingness to put yourself out there, and your honesty. It’s no fun to be raked over the coals and have your life and intentions dissected. I can’t see where there’s any real gain for Hugo to do that. He’s not bragging about himself, he’s talking about what an asshole he is.
That’s not easy. So despite our disagreements I respect your candor and your writing.
Agreed here. I have issues with nearly everything that Hugo has written…ever. And I think he has a tendency to be self-obsessed, but I think that we should grant a little license to pieces that are meant to relate personal experience to outside readers. Perhaps people will learn something from it.
Fine.
What chills me, however, is the feeling that Hugo would be a happy member of the torch-and-pitchfork brigade, were any other man ACCUSED of the things he has DONE.
I probably talking a bit out of turn and amplifying my concern – to point out that the therapy and recovery professions are littered with “teachers” that should be doing anything but. Way to wrapped up in their own recovery pornography to look beyond the bridge of their nose.
Harsh but truthy Natasha
Natasha and Armchair, Mr. Schwyzer may indeed still be a narcissist, I don’t know – I don’t know the man personally, and I’m something of a new reader of this magazine. But I’m wondering what grievous mental disorder the two of you suffer from that would impel you to respond to this article in such an ugly, vicious, hysterical, moronic, indecent and self-righteous way. Indeed, I have rarely come across such an example of arrogant, self-righteous vitriol as I witnessed in the disgusting waste of text of your comments. Just how sick and stupid are the two of you? As… Read more »
I’ll say that like those two I wanted to come in with the same vengance and furious anger (especially considering the material that Hugo has written before). But I can tell you for sure that likening them to monsters and crackpots and condescending to them doesn’t do anymore good than what they said to him. Once a person has been poisoned by the hatred of others its a VERY hard road back. I’m still travelling it myself and I’ll admit there are days I want to stray from the path (hell sometimes I still occasionally do). Its nice that you… Read more »
“But I’m wondering what grievous mental disorder the two of you suffer from ”
Honestly, I downvoted your comment when I got to this point and skimmed the rest. THE WHOLE POST IS ON PSYCHOLOGY AND MENTAL HEALTH, BRO! WHY ARE YOU MAKING COMMENTS LIKE THIS?!
PM, Well, however ignoble it may have been (and I should say that Danny has a point in his response to my post, though I still feel justified by what I posted), those two whom I shall not mention were content to condemn Schwyzer as narcissist – indeed, they were going so far as to throw the psychiatric classification of Narcissistic Personality Disorder around. Unless these two are professionals in psychiatry and/or psychology, they really have no place to “diagnose” other people, especially when their sole purpose was promiscuous and groundless slander of the author. (By the way, I wonder… Read more »
That’s fair. Hugo has called himself a narcissist, but he hasn’t said he has NPD as far as I know. I can agree, it wasn’t appropriate to play armchair psychologist. I do understand their ire toward the man, though. I’ve been reading his blog daily for the past year (after I found some GREAT posts that he made on it), and I’ve read some of the archives, too. Hugo is, for the most part, a man-basher and an apologist for women’s bad behavior. He has some great posts, but I agree with maybe 10-20% of them. For the record, a… Read more »
About the catch 22, yes I agree totally….
“There is also something else, the fact that he might well be getting off on being chastised in public, which would be beyond creepy.”
Good Lord now I want to go shower with bleach and a fire hose….ick
and to your P.S. – yes I am
You post this and you think your *over* your narcissism? Good Lord do you even know what NPD is? This is nothing but a self aggrandizing diatribe of “look at me look at me look at me!!!!!” Ok Hugo, Im looking, but tbh, Im not seeing much of anything. What I *do* see, is someone who is so in love with his own ‘tragic flaw(s)’ that he cant get over his getting over of them…I see a guy who has so romanticized his history of substance abuse, indiscriminate sexual history, and self perceived failings as a man, that he spends… Read more »
Hello there Tasha I think we are in a catch 22 situation here. When we come out and speak to him about his “problems” we are talking part in his self created narcissistic dramas but something does need to be said. There is also something else, the fact that he might well be getting off on being chastised in public, which would be beyond creepy. And good point about Tanya. The poor women is probably embarrassed by her schoolgirl crush on Professor MeMyselfandI and doing her best to put it behind her, she likely doesn’t want to be reminded and… Read more »
Lol. There is no one feminist women hate more than feminist men.
Linguist —
How in the world have you concluded that I am a feminist?
Well – non-feminist women also hate feminist men.
It’s just that there is no one feminist women hate *more* than feminist men.
Hugo
NPD isn’t a symptom of substance abuse but substance abuse can be a symptom of NPD and I put it to you that a lot of your behavior today, the attention and validation seeking from young impressionable women, is also a symptom of your narcissism and that these young impressionable women are the source of your narcissistic supply.