I Understand Spite as a Human Motivator

One evening when Jonathan and I were in Modena this past March, we were lying in bed talking about us. One of us brought up Instagram, and I told Jonathan, "I understand why you aren't following me on Instagram. I understand spite as a human motivator." Because I did and do. We have hurt each other, and used Instagram as a weapon towards each other. Many times. My account was, at that point in time, following Jonathan's accounts.

Good lord, one should never underestimate spite as a human motivator. So many things have happened because of spite, a "petty ill will or hatred with the disposition to irritate, annoy, or thwart." Spite is often a reaction to being hurt, a response without much thought. It can be a lingering response, or something that is learned by the body and stays for a very long time. Hell, there's an entire book written on it, including some of the upsides of spite. It helps you get things done, helps you move farther and faster than you would without that petty illwill pushing you along, for example.

So, I understood why Jonathan wasn't following me on Instagram, even though he follows his other exes there. What I wasn't expecting in that moment was for him to become angry and force unfollow my account from his. At the time, I thought he had misheard me, that he thought I had unfollowed before out of spite, my spite for him, when I had not unfollowed out of spite. In that moment, I could not figure out how to understand why he had just forced an unfollow for my account. Even now, I still don't know what happened or the why of it.

I have watched Jonathan respond out of spite on a few other things over the subsequent four months. I understand why he did these acts. I understand the power of spite in that moment. I understand how empty one can feel after those actions. I am accepting the fallout of what he has done for those actions that scatter ashes in my world.

Tonight, I was in a similar position where I was angry at the whole situation I was in, and started to respond with spite. I spent an hour working on a project change that was motivated purely out of spite.

And then I stopped.

Who was this helping? No one. Not even me.
Who was this hurting? At least one person that I knew about.
Was this who I wanted to be? Oh fuck no.

Grief works in strange ways. It can surface as spite. Tonight, it did.

I messaged four friends with a simple, "Call me." message, and walked away from my screen. Ten minutes later, one of the friends called, and we talked about our days. Food. Work. Hiking. Exercise. Stocks. Houses. Living areas. Travel. It was a lovely meandering conversation about nothing, a Seinfeld episode in my kitchen.

Victor Frankl wrote, "Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."

I have disagreed with that quote many times, especially when there isn't time between stimulus and response. I've been living a very long time with no space between.

I am happy of myself that tonight, tonight, I found that space, and chose a better response. I can understand spite as a human motivator, and sometimes choose not to let it be mine.

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