To exist is not wrong

Being tormented at school and realising that I was dislike, attacked and sometimes hated, brought me to the conclusion, at the young age of five, that there was something wrong with me. As this was something I was born with, that I shared with my Father, I looked to my parents as the cause of my pain – they gave it to me. I wished my mother had married another man, and then I would not be wrong. I have a strong memory of standing in front of parents screaming at them, screaming that I hated them and that I wished I was dead. At the same time I had got hold of a close to harmless knife, something like a bread knife or possibly a cake slice, and was jabbing myself in the side of my stomach, an inch or two to the left of my navel – the location is important. The location is important because this was where I felt my pain, not in my mind or chest, but low and deep in my being, in my stomach; as if I was attacking something I had taken deep inside that I did not want in me and I could not get it out.

I had not swallowed this poison willingly. I was not born with the notion that there was something wrong with me. I don’t believe any being comes in to existence with the notion that they are wrong. I did not choose to be born, nor did I choose to be born as I am. Arguments can be raised as to whether I was born with a predetermined genes, with a predisposition, as a blank slate or a combination of these, yet however I came to be I did not bring myself to life – I, as we all are, was born innocent in to life. And in this innocence was no conception of wrongness, this came later.

I’ve seen many people look at me as if my existence is wrong. I’ve seen and heard people speak of others as if that persons mere existence is wrong. I’ve seen this done using ability, gender, race, sexuality, skin colour, religion or virtually any form of difference that can be singled out and used to push the perceived wrongness of that person into that person. The pain of this happening to my young self, again and again, by groups and individuals, was terrible to bare. Innately, as a child, I new to exist was not wrong, and I fought again this violation in to my being – fought against wrongness being pushed in to me.

I feel the strong need to love me without condition and I also feel how strongly I have been told that this is wrong. If loving me is natural, akin to facing forward, then this strong feeling of ‘the wrongness of me’ is like having my head twisted around to face backwards. Within me this strong notion that to love myself is wrong appears to me as the face of matriarchs and patriarchs looking at me with distaste, rejection and disapproval, looking at me and seeing the wrongness of me, showing me my wrongness with their face. And what follows is the loss of myself, to be what they want me to be, for their acceptance and their approval; even if that means hating myself – hate yourself and we will love you, accept yourself as wrong. But the love never comes or fades quickly and the hate of myself remains and grows- like being hungry and eating bad food that makes me sick. I won’t do this anymore, I don’t want to gorge myself from this ‘all you can eat’ buffet that fills me with sickness. Better that I love myself and let the disapproval, rejection and unacceptance remain in their face. Like good food, I need love and acceptance to exist; learning to feed myself with food that nourishes me is a good start.

I now understand that I need good conditions to nurture my ability to take a good direction; that the knowledge of right and wrong is not the same as organic growth - the development of goodness and health within me. The conditions I have found that help me are, love and care, acceptance and understanding, and to know my existence in not wrong.

Lorenz Mcleod

Mosaic

Mosaic is a space for people who are interested to express their view on how to create an atmosphere of respect in this multi-cultural society.