RESENTMENT

I’m big on people feeling their feelings and acknowledging their emotions. For many reasons, that’s not always easy in our type of society. Every culture teaches the young what’s considered to be acceptable behaviors, and by those behaviors, what can be considered acceptable and unacceptable feelings. Relatively few societies teach the nuances between how one behaves as opposed to how one might feel and validates the feelings despite requesting a different public behavior.

Only recently in the US have parents and teachers begun to teach children about self regulation and understanding themselves as both social and private beings with complex feelings sometimes requiring social modification.

I was explaining this to my own child over forty years ago, telling him that he was entitled to his feelings. I suggested that during an argument with parents, he might be unable to fully express himself, and we might be unable to fully hear what he was saying. I talked to him about power differentials and suggested that he should go to his room and write down his feelings. Importantly, he should consider his argument and write down his points. I could not speak for his father, but I promised that when we were more calm, I would listen to his points and take them seriously, and freely admit it if he proved me wrong.

I wanted him to understand how systems of power/authority work, to understand where he stood in relationship to power, to understand his own feelings and always know that he had the right to feel however he did, and finally, to learn how to make a coherent, logical, fact based argument, and how to present it to any authority figure. I wanted him to understand that even in the face of authority or power, he was never helpless or powerless: that his feelings were important, and that modulation did not mean suppression.

Consequently, little dude kicked my ass after a later argument, and he did it with irrefutable proof of my unfair behavior. I was chastened and also as proud as if he had argued against the Supreme Court and won!

Now, this is a long way to the point I want to make, which is about one specific “emotion”: resentment.

In my opinion, it is the one unacceptable emotion. I don’t even consider it to be an emotion, because unlike anger or joy or hurt, resentment is bred. It is, like some forms of depression, born from suppressed anger. Unlike depression, resentment is anger combined with or wed to a sense of entitlement. Unlike simple depression, resentment is not turned inward even though it lurks under cover. It seethes and is aimed at the person considered to have perpetrated a wrong against you. It is an ugly, roiling mixture that spills over into relationships and spoils or even kills them. It is- again, in my opinion- the anger of cowards. It is never justified. I repeat: resentment is never justified.

I say that having recently spent time with someone who holds deep resentments for ill treatment in the distant past, and easily falls into it now. This is a person who never raises their voice, is controlled and controlling, while always wanting to appear to be reasonable and 1950s Americana “nice.” Meanwhile, they are a whiny, angry mass of unacknowledged feelings with a list of accumulated “wrongs” against them. My suggestion that it would be better to have a clean and clearing argument was immediately shut down and probably added to the resentment.

This person is attractive, a rather brilliant and accomplished scientist, musical, and a good cook, among their many accomplishments and personally lovely traits. Yet they only heard criticisms and felt them far more deeply than they were delivered. It was perplexing to me because my own relationships depend on honesty and clear communication between each person. We commit to always speaking our truth and to always figuring out how to work through our differences, hurts, or anger.

I don’t let many people into my world, but I depend on those in it to love me enough to keep me honest. I know these folks love me and have my back, so when they “pull my coat” to tell me I’m off the wall, or wrong about something, I take it seriously and listen, and we talk. This is the pattern with close friends, family, and my late husband. I don’t understand how you can have real intimacy if you can’t talk about anything and everything truthfully, even if it’s painful to say or hear.

Which means you have to figure out rules for difficult conversations and arguments. My people and I use safe words/phrases. Going back to that conversation with my then seven year old, we agreed on a phrase that indicated things were too heated and that we must each back off and cool down before resuming. In my life with my husband, we had similar cues. When my friends or I am going through rough periods, when we call, we use the phrase from Marathon Man: “Is it safe?”

They can then say if they’re up for conversation or not, but it also always makes us laugh and lightens the moment before going any further. What works has to be negotiable and agreed upon, as well as respected by all concerned.

It was important that in all cases, we made note of our feelings and the points we wanted to make. We also made the commitment to really hear, not just sit quietly, when the other person stated their case. To take it in and take an honest, even hard look at ourselves and our part in the problem. To take responsibility and not only apologize if wrong, but to figure out how to avoid repeating the behavior(s) and to be more aware of how what we do or say impacts others. Not to repress ourselves, but to put our creativity into finding healthier ways to express ourselves. To recognize that might sometimes require outside assistance/therapy, and to value ourselves and our loved ones enough to do the work.

I don’t use the terms “friend” or “love” lightly. If I consider you a friend, my bond is one of family. To the best of my ability, I will have your back. I will listen and share your joys and sadness. I won’t let you go outside with a boogey hanging from your nose or wearing an unflattering outfit unless you’re in disguise. If it was a righteous murder, I’m your alibi (hahaha).

Yeah, I’m that sister, and I expect the same in return, whether you’re my lover or a regular friend. I’m not a casual kind of person, and there are few things that will lead me to abandon a friendship/loved one once I make that commitment. Even after a major blow out, when any trauma has receded, I will always attempt to talk and reconcile our differences unless I decide that the relationship is harmful to me or my family in some way that is insurmountable. The only two close relationships I’ve ever had with people that couldn’t be bridged, was with people who hoarded their resentments at the expense of love. It was heartbreaking to watch people I loved risk or wreck their relationships with others, not only me. Because I do consider that maybe I was the asshole in those cases. Certainly I know I contributed in the first one, because I didn’t then understand the shame and guilt my friend harbored from childhood abuses.

In the second, my lover was unable to be honest or discuss emotions as equals. They did not trust the depth of my feelings or commitment as they had never experienced that kind of relationship. But more pointedly, from childhood, they had never felt that they could speak out when they were treated unfairly. They had never learned the emotional or communication skills they needed and they were unwilling to do so, even as a mature and safe adult. The deeper mistrust was in themselves and their fear of being misused or taken advantage of: their lack of trust in themself.

I saw this respected elder behave in the most petty ways I’d ever experienced in another being, even as a teen nor by any gender. That, more than anything, took me aback and made me want to understand the gap between my perception of this soul and the self perception and insecurities that propelled them through life.

I guess in the course of seven decades, I’ve had a pretty good track record in maintaining freindships, but it’s still sad to have lost any friends you genuinely loved.

So yeah: resentment is a useless set of emotions. A “weapon of the weak.” to paraphrase James Scott. Be brave, people: speak your truth, and trust yourself and your loved ones to do so. The people who love you already do, and they probably already know how you feel. If they don’t, do them the honor of sharing yourself with them. Anger has a place in the pantheon of emotions. If you’re hurt or angry or both, it’s important to express those honest emotions. Resentment is dishonesty: it’s hurt and anger in an ugly disguise and it can cost you the best relationships you might have had.

“Be brave and mighty forces will come to your aid..” Goethe

“(re)VISION: Through Fracture, Focus. Through Vision, Freedom.”

 

5/24/2026

A quick shoutout to those of you who get my sense of humor, but also know how very serious I am in pretty much everything. I have never wished to be anyone else, not even as a young person, and I will never be without passion, in love, work, or play. 

This is me: dig it, or ditch, but never try to flatten me out for your ego. I don’t want to “fit” inside your little world. I am the Empress of the Universe, now and forever more.

And as my birthday gift to you, here is a poem by the amazing Maria Hamilton Abegunde that was partially inspired by, and dedicated to me:

This poem is for Iya Dr. Anjana Mebane (Meh!Ben)-Cruz, now retired, who was the first “Afra-Amer-Indian” woman to receive a Ph.D. in Anthropology at University of Virginia for her ground-breaking research on people of Native and African American ancestry. 

The poem’s first line is from her, after a conversation we had one day about our current political, social, and historical moment.

When I called her to read the poem as a surprise, she shared with me how her elders – Native American and pan-African – told her as a child she was a Star, and that we, Africans, came from the stars.

 

“(re)VISION: Through Fracture, Focus. Through Vision, Freedom.

Part 1

We have been here before:

The death of Empires that resist

Our Brilliance

​​Beauty

​​​Being

​​​​Black.

Their resistance means

the world will break.

Not because we fight,

Or because we “told you so”.

No, the world will break because 

bit-by-bit even the Dark knows the truth:

The Moon depends on the Sun to be seen.

The death of a Star births new Worlds.

 

Part 2

Yes, it is true: Stars breathe.

They pulsate, gather every molecule 

they can before their final exhale explodes

into helium, carbon, calcium, and iron –

Food for an expanding universe.

 

That starlight in the sky you see

Is already 50,000 years old.

You cannot stop a Star from shining. 

Even after its death, you cannot unsee

A Star’s only purpose: to be free.

 

But, did you know?

Empires are Cannibal Galaxies

Incapable of understanding why Stars 

Do not consume each other. 

Unlike Empires, when Stars die, 

They release all their energy to feed whole worlds.

They gather to witness their own re/birthing 

into something unknown.

As they are becoming they never forget who they are.

 

Part 3

We are the Stars.

We are the light that emanates from their rays

We are the rays that are vibrations

That turn into sound

And we are the sound

That hums life into being.

 

Cannibal Galaxies would rather die

Than admit that they need us, want us,

for how we know what we know.

This scares them.

And, we know that type of fear

Leads to insatiable lust for universes.

 

Empires will never tell us that they regret choosing

Dorian Gray’s Mirror, and that is why they

Gaze at us with such hunger.

Their own image reminds them

That rot begins at the core.

 

Part 4

On the other hand,

“We Who Believe in Freedom”

Have chosen Osun’s Mirror.

And, in the Great Mother’s view we see

This truth: 

We are memory keepers. 

We cannot die.

 

We  know how this story ends.

We have seen the future because we are living it

And because you will live the future 

That is not ours to dream.

Our choices have always been to “Be like Water”.

That is, we choose to love all forms of life

In their changing same

Multi-dimensionalities, textures, and tones.

 

Part 5

How the story could have gone.

Could go still.

Stars fall to Earth 

And decide to stay.

We fall in love with our own magnificence.

 

We love us:

Something in the way we move,

Something in the way our photo-spheres reflect

The truth of who we are:

Imperfect plasmas who survived

Gravitational collapse

And breaches in time and space

That will never be sutured.

 

We love each other so much,

That we agree to never leave each other alone, or empty.

We know that the Cosmos is larger than any galaxy.

And, so we choose, every moment to expand

Until the only thing of us that remains

is Breath

 

I Yam What I Yam

Lately, I wonder how I appear to people. It seems that they often see someone I am not, even though I have always been pretty forthright and honest about myself. I’ve never claimed to be easygoing or sweet, although I certainly have my moments. Generous, yes, affectionate, yes. Patient? Absolutely not, though tons better than in the past. Superficial- nah! I go deep or I don’t go at all.

I studied to be a concert pianist and performed at a number of venues. As a kid, I seriously thought I was an incarnation of Ludwig Van Beethoven. My first experience of live opera led to Vissi D’Arte, Vissi D’Amor becoming my motto and guide for life, so can I be dramatic? Yes, at times.

I believe that life is meant to be more full than most people experience, and I don’t mean just travels or romances- I mean depth. We are meant to know ourselves, our connection to Earth and everything and everyone in the natural world, and most importantly, we are meant to feel our feelings and understand what they mean. To balance heart and mind so that you live fully, knowing when to analyze and when to simply feel.

I think this is the only way we can connect deeply with others and the only road to true intimacy and the sublime joy that such connections can bring.

I understand that many people (most Americans?) do not share these beliefs. That most people want the surface waters, with as few ripples as possible, and no chance of drowning. I’ve had a hard enough life to understand that desire, but I know it’s not really possible in this world without walling yourself in, physically and psychologically, and for me, that’s far less appealing than actual death. It’s what an Albanian friend once called “Flat world.” The colour and flavor and nourishment all removed in favor of odorless, uniform pap. It’s a il/delusion that leads not only to constant self-disappointment/dissatisfaction, but the false sense of “deservedness” and a dangerous belief in elitism that leads to systems of favoritism and oppression.

So, given my clarity about who I am and what I’m about, how is it that men seem genuinely surprised when, as Popeye would say- “I yam what what I yam and that’s all what I yam!” That I am comfortable in myself, know and make clear my limits and boundaries. I try never to be deceitful or hurtful, although I sometimes fail with the latter. I openly ask for their boundaries and try to be respectful of them, if I know what they are. It’s interesting to me that although they like to think of themselves as direct and less emotional, many men are unable to answer direct questions, and instead, seethe and become resentful rather than confront or explore the emotions that they do have and communicate honestly with their partner. They don’t understand that they lessen their own humanity by denying the reality that as humans, we are “emotional cucumbers,” as a popular meme described it. Sadly, too few seem to understand that an adherence to performed strength actually weakens the performer.

I am loyal and faithful: the original ride or die woman. I expect the same from a partner. I don’t need fish or other dead animals that gents seem so found of posting. I live in a small city, but we do have markets, and in a pinch, I can do those things, plus also know which plants are edible. I also know how to shear a sheep, spin the wool into yarn and weave it into cloth.

I like jewelry, but need none. At the moment, I’m carrying two mortgages, and although it’s been a burden soon to be shed, I manage and do so without assistance. So while it would be lovely to be with someone who can and would want to make my life materially more comfortable, I don’t need that from a man.

What I do need is to be seen and loved for who I am, not who you wish me to be. I had thirty seven years with a strong man who adored me, was patient with my ridiculousness, and thought I could do absolutely anything. He and my son inspired me to persevere and go beyond my own boundaries. Love inspires.

When there is love, we tend to grow towards each other but without ever forsaking our own sense of self and autonomy. Love makes us want to be our better selves and to make our partners proud as well as happy, but it doesn’t coerce. It accepts our limitations even as it inspires us to go beyond those limits. It’s good damned stuff, and if you’re lucky enough to have or find it, don’t hold back, people: jump in and know that it will safely buoy you as you learn to navigate its depths.

Yet in still, men look at me and see someone who’ll humor their egos (I generally won’t); lie to make myself fit into their world (I definitely won’t); and will concede to them even when I know more: hah! (“It is to laugh!”)

They somehow seem to see a simple minded, sexy, and easily manipulated woman, and I don’t know what that’s about. I accept that it’s some kind of projection-fantasy, but there are better candidates for the role than I, so I don’t understand the anger when I turn out to be exactly who I said I am. Dudes!

I am fiercely introspective and introverted, curmudgeonly, and also charming and downright adorable. I will cook, bake, write poetry, and sing to you, but only when I feel like it or when you need it. We all need special attention at times and I consider it my job to notice, but also encourage you to simply state your needs and desires. The same treatment I expect back from a mate. We take care of each other, with love. We should genuinely enjoy each other’s company. Anything else can only lead to sadness and discontent. Friends and lovers- it’s a real thing that happens, believe me.

So that’s all I have to say about that. I’d’ve thought that at this age, the fellas would understand more and would’ve accepted what women are, but apparently the delusions remain. And that’s a shame, because we are meant to balance each other and enjoy the hell out of each other, heart, body, and soul. Communion, y’all: adageyudi/gadugi.

Happy Bird Day!

Today is the official, annual, and original Bird Day on May 4th (established 1894) for conservation, so pick up your binoculars, go quietly to the woods or your back yard or park, and marvel at the beauty and wondrous flight of our avian friends.

I’ll be heading to my local preserve in the afternoon, when the vultures circle so beautifully before doing their sacred work. Maybe I’ll get to see a mocking bird keep a hawk away from her nest, or a robin playing games with a squirrel. Or maybe it’ll be the usual array of crows laughing and making fun of everything I do. All sightings are joyously welcome to me and close to my heart.

Git on out there, people: they are kin.❤️