Wearing another pair of shoes

Forgiveness is something I really struggle with.  It's easy to extend grace to a good person.  An honest mistake, hurtful words in the heat of the moment, followed by a sincere apology.  It is painful in the moment, but the healing is straightforward and reconciliation is easy.  You accept and move on.  But what about those people who despise you, disregard your feelings and make you feel worthless? They offer no remorse or apology, and they think they are right. And suddenly forgiveness seems impossible.  The angry feelings get knotted inside and the never ending thoughts of doubt -- what did I do wrong? how could they have said/done those things to me? And then the back and forth between feeling bitter and trying to block out the hurtful memory from your mind. But today, I think I felt a slight inkling of the answer.

I have been mad at my dad for a long time.  His love for me is very conditional and I often think he only cares about me when it feels good to care about me, so long as it does not inconvenience or make him feel bad in any way.  When I misbehave or disobey, when things are not the way he wants, suddenly I become a tumor that can be cut away easily.  He pours out his anger as if he is the only one who matters. He cuts me with his words and break connections with physical and emotional distance.  There was no money to give when he was poor, just like there is no love to give when he is angry.  

Today, my mom told me I need to be understanding of him.  Of course, this surprised me to an extent, because she had always been very mad at my dad since their divorce.  An endless back and forth between bitterness and trying to forget.  It was a long journey, but it seems like she was finally able to let go of some of what he did to her.  It seems that the first step to truly forgiving the self-satisfied turds in your life is to put yourself in their shoes.

(According to my mom) My dad grew up very very poor, to the point where he almost never had enough to eat and didn't even have enough money for a pair of shoes in winter.  His feet were always blistered and cold, and he had to fight/take from his own family members to get enough to eat.  Because his parents were weak and sickly, the people in his village would steal and bully his family. In short, he grew up in an environment where sympathy for others and emotions were a luxury he could not afford.  Selfishness in every sense was necessary for survival.  

Now, when I imagine what it must have been like to grow up like that -- a little baby version of my dad not having enough to eat, a skinny child getting out-muscled by his older siblings in a mad scramble for food, and a tiny heart already starting to harden against others.  A shell of selfishness growing around him, his only protection from the harsh world and the people who mistreat him.  I put myself in his shoes today and I could only feel sadness and pity.  And perhaps, an inkling of empathy as well?  

Now I am not saying I forgive him, or that I am okay with the way he treats me.  I may still be far from arriving at that place.  But maybe today I made a stride towards understanding.  The first step of many... towards letting go and forgiveness.  I wore his shoes and it evaporated my anger.  If only just for an afternoon.