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On Forgetting How to Hate

I feel like this post is so cliche, but at the same time, I will remember how to hate myself, if I don’t write it. I had no intentions of writing another blog post until I returned, once again, to the topic of Sex Trafficking and wrote a blog commissioned by my good friend Tiffany Beard. It was this article, however, that propelled me into writing this post. For so many reasons, I feel like Seth does in this article. While I am not bisexual, I find myself feeling much of his pain. I constantly find myself in situations where I am supposed to choose a side. In most things in life, I do. That is not my problem. What hurts is when the people you love tell you, or at least imply, for a myriad of reasons, to dislike, or hate another person that they are done with. I found myself in that situation once again tonight. I was to text a person, whom I was supposed to be hating, to gain information, and instead found myself consoling this persons broken heart. It was then that I realized I had forgotten how to hate.

While the above situation may seem childish and petty, and in many ways it is, it is only a minor example of a growing problem. Sitting here, listening to Fever Ray, I realized that this was just a minor slice of a larger symptom I find in life. Time and again, people, institutions, culture, society, tell me who and what I should hate, but I realize hate has left me. It’s a strange mercy, but one I am grateful for. I often find that even the priesthood of open-mindness and those who claim unconditional love, have group they too hate. I am not taking up the argument of is hate learned or innate, but I do know one thing. We can all forget how to hate.

I have nothing more profound. No pictures, no more links. I am not even going to give the reader a challenge to forget how to hate. Do that has to be something that one comes to on their own terms on their own time. I simply say think about forgetting.

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