People think that everyone is different, and that each person has unique problems. But in reality, this is not accurate. Positively speaking, each of us is indeed unique and different, but the source of all our problems is the same.
We can call the root of our problems negativity.
What is negativity?
Before explaining this, it is important to understand that carrying negativity does not mean someone is negative.
Negativity stems from patterns of behavior, thought, and emotional attitudes embedded in modern culture. It manifests through frequent complaining, belittling others, self-pity (which can also appear as self-criticism), and blaming others.
Many, when I point out to them that what affects self-worth more than anything else is speaking to (or about) others in a belittling or judgmental way, quickly jump to say they’re not the kind of people who do such things. Yet, ironically, those who rush to declare this often hold the deepest grudges—whether toward current or past partners or their parents whom they blame for their life circumstances.
Blame, among the types of negativity, is the one that both strengthens us the most (by giving us a sense of being a better person than someone else and serving as a kind of conceptual revenge) and at the same time sows destruction, perpetuates feelings of worthlessness, and causes unhappiness, anxiety, and illness.
The seemingly righteous blame most people carry (usually directed at their parents or partners who hurt them) is based on the assumption that a parent should behave in a certain (idealized) way, and that an adults should take responsibility for their actions.
When I want to know if someone harbors blame, even though they claim they have no anger or grievances, I ask a few simple questions:
- Are you sad about what happened? About what you had to go through?
- Do you think it shouldn’t have happened?
- Do you think a parent shouldn’t behave like that? (Or: “Do you think he/she shouldn’t have behaved like that?”)
In 99% of cases, the answer to these questions will be “yes,” which means the person blames. Because if they are sad about what happened, it means they are still mourning what happened and the fact that things didn’t turn out differently. Automatically, this leads to blaming whoever was responsible (their parents, partners, or even God).
The blame is justified by a few fundamentally false assumptions:
- An adult should take responsibility for their actions.
- If they can’t, they should go to therapy.
- They are capable of change; they just don’t want it enough.
Regarding the claim that adults must take responsibility for their actions, I always try to explain: “What if they were a 3-year-old child? Or mentally impaired? Would you still blame them?” To this, people reply: “But they’re not.”
In reality, many adults are incapable of taking responsibility for their actions. Even though they aren’t formally diagnosed as mentally ill and may appear outwardly normative, they are hiding a fragile and unstable mental state.
The claim that a person with problems should go to therapy loses relevance in the face of reality since there are so many people who sit in therapy for years without truly changing.
To say that therapy necessarily brings change is simply untrue. I’m not talking here about the type of therapy, but about the fact that a person who isn’t ready for change cannot change.
The argument that someone can be blamed for “not wanting to change enough” is also problematic. The logical assumption is that every person wants to be happy. A person who is full of difficult emotions, who behaves in problematic ways and hurts others, is not happy; they are miserable, even if they won’t admit it.
The ability to change can be compared to a fruit that has ripened versus a fruit that rots before it matures. The reality is that not all people will “ripen” in this lifetime. Those who argue against this claim, which reality proves, will continue to suffer.
When I explain this to people they are left momentarily speechless, but quickly recover: “So what, he has no responsibility for what he did??” they protest. In the imaginary trial in their minds, the defendant has been convicted, and now they must pay the price.
However, no matter what happened—and indeed, terrible things sometimes happen—“the accused” is not a driver who broke the law and can be given a ticket.
The ones holding onto blame and telling themselves: “I will never forget and never forgive,” continue to live with the corrosive acid of their accusations, while in the external world, nothing changes.
Blame has far-reaching consequences for the person holding it: anger, misery, the persistent feeling that “I am not good enough,” attracting people and events that resonate with the energy within us, harming our children, who energetically absorb what we carry, and even mental struggles and illnesses.
Anyone holding onto blame is, in essence, like a grown child still trying to complete what they didn’t receive from their parents. This affects their functioning and judgment as a parent, creates dependency in relationships, draws them to partners with their own issues, and leads to all the other problems I mentioned above.
I’m not talking about forgiving or waking up tomorrow morning as best friends with your parents or former partners. I’m talking about stopping the blame because there is no one to blame; because the person genuinely could not have acted differently; because we also had a part in what happened (not as children, but as adults); and because we are the ones paying the price.
I’d love to hear your thoughts and answer any questions,
Sharon
P.S. One of the recurring claims I hear from many people is: “I rarely think about it; it’s only coming up now because we’re talking about it.”
It’s important to understand that it doesn’t matter how often you think about it. What matters is whether the emotion is still alive—that is, whether you still identify with the thought that your parents (or someone else) are still to blame, as explained above.
If that’s the case, then even if you don’t think about it 99% of the time, the blame still lives in you like an infection, and its effects continue whether you’re aware of it or not.
P.P.S. To let go of blame, the “accused” doesn’t need to understand their actions or apologize, and there’s no need to tell them what we’re angry about (if there’s someone who’s able to listen without getting defensive, that’s fine, but often there isn’t).
In fact, we don’t even “let go” of the blame—it simply dissolves on its own when we realize it has no basis in reality. Because, as I mentioned earlier, the “accused” wasn’t responsible for their actions and couldn’t have behaved differently (just as we, until the moment we stood up and changed things, couldn’t have acted differently toward them).
