I Am All The Evil

I am a racist

I am a sexist

I am a sexual predator

I have killed

I have cheated

I have judged

I have abused

I have betrayed

I have stolen

I have exploited

I have taken advantage

I have shamed

I have hurt

I have lied

The war begins in my mind. There is no atrocity that has not passed through my mind. I have wished torture on other people, and I felt justified. I have thought unspeakable things. I haven’t committed the crimes. I can’t be the worst. See me laughing now. Why have I not? There has been that other voice reminding me of kindness.

What does it take to silence this voice?

It would be easy to explain where all my bad thoughts come from. I am tempted to write about the violence, the pain, and the injustice I have been subjected to. You see, it would help you understand why I’ve thought the things I think, why I’ve done the things I do, why I’ve said the things I say. I want to lead you astray from my deeds to the path that unites us in misery. Let me show you how I was a victim. Let me prove to you how I have been abused, judged, shamed, hurt, beaten, discriminated against, held down, lied to, imprisoned.

This is how the war starts.

Let me prove to you that I was justified in my violence. Let me convince you that what I did was minor compared to what has been done to me. Let me drown you in tears over my pain. Let me show you that the shaming words I threw at my daughter pale in comparison to the long cold silence I suffered from my mother when I was a child. And you may forget that my child does not have anything to compare her pain with. It doesn’t pale for her. Let me show you that my coldness is only protection. My harshness is only pain. My arrogance is only fear. I cannot be held accountable.

This is how we wage war.

I am tiny against this man. Whatever I do is an act of self-defense. Defense against his physical strength, his overbearing power, his ingrained misogyny, patriarchy, a system of oppression, centuries of pain and discrimination, the all-evil institution of church and shame. I enjoy the freedom of a lunatic in chains. I can do whatever I want. I am a victim. I cannot be held accountable.

This is how we wage war.

I am all the evil I ever fell victim to. I am strong, overbearing, misogynist, upholding patriarchal beliefs, supporting systems of oppression, creating pain and discriminating against all kinds of beings. I look at you and I judge you. Except my judgement is better than yours.

I hate to write this. I hate to look in the mirror and wipe away the lies I have been telling myself. I don’t want to look at my Dorian Gray. I want to keep the veil on. Look how pretty I am. How sweet and innocent. I want you to believe I am on the side of the good. I am one of the heroes. I am one of the survivors. I am one of the victims. I belong to your side. Our pain is legitimate. Our violence is justified. Our rage is pure. Our motives are noble. Our fight is necessary.

This is how we wage war.

We cannot be held accountable.

Our wars are just.

It is too late. The veil has begun to rot and I get a glimpse of the real picture. I have been busy throwing around guilt and blame, like a ball of fire, pushing it away from me to others only to find it coming back to me again and again. The pain I feel is not outside. There is no need to throw the ball. There is no ball to throw. There is no guilt. There is no blame. I am all the evil. It is time I hold myself accountable.

This is how we end the war.

I love.