the blindness of pain
Pain has a way of narrowing our vision. It traps us in a place where all we can see is our suffering, making it nearly impossible to understand the experiences of others. I spent years locked in that prison, unable to see beyond my own hurt, and it kept me stuck—resentful, angry, and lost. But what happens when we break free from that? When we learn to see the broader picture? This is about moving beyond the pain and adopting an empathetic perspective, even for those who we might label as enemies.
A Conversation with My Father
One particular memory stands out: a conversation with my dad when I was a kid. I called him with tears in my eyes, choking on the lump in my throat as I pleaded:
“Dad, I can’t stay here anymore. When can I come live with you?”
“Soon,” he replied.
“How soon?” I demanded. “I can’t be in this house anymore. I need to go now!”
He sighed deeply, trying to explain: “Just understand, your mom has been through a lot…”
“I don’t care!” I shouted back, overwhelmed by my pain. I slammed the phone down, unable to hear him anymore, let alone consider what my mom might have been going through.
At that time, my pain blinded me to my mother’s struggles. She was doing everything she could—working seven days a week, putting a roof over my head, loving me the best she knew how, while navigating her own pain. But I couldn’t see any of that. All I knew was my own hurt. I was trapped in it, unable to empathize, to understand.
It took years of healing, of talking to people much wiser than me, before I could even begin to see beyond my own suffering. If I stayed stuck in that pain, I wouldn’t have been able to reach the level of understanding I have now, where I can love and accept my mother fully.
The Danger of One Perspective
When we allow pain or any single ideology to dominate our worldview, we become rigid. We start to believe that there’s only one way of looking at things, and if someone doesn’t agree, they’re automatically wrong—or worse, the enemy.
But when I step back and think to myself, I ask: How is that different from the extremism we condemn in history books? If we only allow one “right” way, are we any different from the very ideologies we claim to oppose?
The truth is, having just one way of thinking, one ideology, is limiting. It prevents us from seeing the full scope of humanity. Everything can be questioned, debated, and explored—whether it’s racism, anti-Semitism, or any other polarizing issue. And I want to be clear: I’m not saying we should condone harmful behaviors. I’m saying we need to understand why people act the way they do. That doesn’t mean endorsing it, but it means understanding it.
The Complexity of Human Behavior
Take, for example, the story of two identical twins who grew up in the same household. They both watched their mother get abused by their alcoholic father. One twin grows up and says, “I am this way because of my father,” while the other says, “I am not this way because of my father.”
One house, one experience, two completely different outcomes. Why?
It’s because our experiences are complex, layered, and shaped by countless factors. There isn’t one “right” response to pain or trauma. Each person’s reaction is as individual as their life story.
My Journey to Empathy
Growing up, I felt verbally and emotionally terrorized in my home. I desperately wanted people to see and understand my pain. It consumed me. I lashed out, became a bully, and spit venom at those who I felt were hurting me. But none of that changed anything. It wasn’t until much later—through the wisdom of people who taught me empathy—that I began to understand.
I started to see my mother not just as someone who caused me pain, but as a person who was navigating her own trauma. She was doing the best she could with the tools she had. And maybe the tools that helped her survive weren’t the ones I needed to feel seen and heard. But that’s not her fault. It’s just how life worked out for both of us.
That realization was freeing. It allowed me to step outside of my own pain and see the broader picture. It allowed me to forgive. And it taught me that empathy is the key to understanding the people we think are hurting us.
The Bigger Picture
So, who’s to blame in situations like these? Who’s the real victim or oppressor? The truth is, it’s not always so clear-cut. The father who abuses his children may have a son who breaks the cycle and becomes the most empathetic person you’ve ever met. The person who seems like the hero in one story might inadvertently cause pain in another.
Human behavior is too complex for us to ever fully understand in the moment. We can feel right or wrong about something, but none of us know the full ripple effect of our actions—not in five minutes, and certainly not in ten years.
The point of all this is to encourage a deeper level of understanding and acceptance for the people and the world around us. From our oppressors to those who uplift us, each one of us is just doing the best we can with what we’ve got. Pain narrows our view, but empathy broadens it.
In Time, All Truths Are Revealed
We might not understand it now, but in time, all “truths” will be revealed. Until then, let’s try to see past our pain, open our eyes a little wider, and embrace the broader, messier, more empathetic perspective that comes with truly understanding another person’s experience.
