Sometimes when someone says I hurt them, I fall back on my brain to save me instead of my heart.

• I have picked apart their logic, and pointed out inconsistencies.
• I have demanded proof (whatever that is, in matters of feeling).
• I have taken words in their most extreme meanings and twisted them.
• I have manufactured and stoked hurt to give me the anger to override my fear of loss.
• I have gone on the offensive.
• I have bullied people with my words.
• I have picked apart grammar and spelling (I don’t do this, really, anymore—I decided I’m better than that, and stopped).

In many cases I have done pretty much everything EXCEPT say to myself:

“HOLY FUCKBALLS, how have I hurt this person (or people) and given the wrong impression of me and how can I fix it?”

Because this is where I’d like to default to.

This is the human I want to be, but I am not, always. Not yet. I may never make it there, but I’m better at it than I was.

I’m a kinky person.

I’m not a sadist, even in kinky play. I don’t like to hurt people. I see that as counter productive to my goals of lifting people up, and building a better, more positive kink world (at least my small corner of it).

I especially don’t like to hurt people unintentionally.

But I have.

I have been the bad guy.

Quite publicly, even. In my writings over the years.

• I’ve defended someone’s general use of a harmful term because I knew people who claimed it in specific use, without realizing the harm I was causing—even though they were telling me RIGHT THERE.
• I’ve shared personal details of someone else’s story without their consent, even though I was showing my support of them, and I caused harm.
• I’ve allowed toxic and -phobic people to comment on my writings (AND attack other people in comments) because I felt like everyone who commented “was an adult” and could handle whatever was thrown around in words as well as I could, and I caused harm.
• And more.

I’ve done that more times than I can count, and each time it took me time to be aware that I was being the bad guy, even though I meant to be the good guy.

I felt like the good guy.
I wanted to be the good guy.
I was, ultimately though, the bad guy.

I thank all of the people who stood up to me, who claimed harm, and who told me I had to do and be better (despite me being hard headed and taking far longer than they probably would have liked because I knew my intentions and they were being mean), because they are ultimately the people who have helped me not only BE a better person, but also to communicate to others who I am in ways that reduce the harm I cause unintentionally.

I am less often the bad guy.

At least unintentionally.

At least to the people who I want to be the good guy for.

And I’ll count that as a win.

What are your thoughts?

Has something that you were deeply passionate about and defended or fought for turned out to be the wrong position, after you learned better or had time to think about it?

Did you figure it out yourself, or did others call it to your attention?

How much harm have you caused others (and yourself) thinking you were the good guy, and actually being the bad guy?

Have you thanked those who stood up to you, who upset you, even hurt you—to make you see?