I’ve always considered the concept of pity to be a fickle one. I suppose, in a sense, I’m a hypocrite when it comes to pity; I despise it when it is directed toward myself, but I willingly give it to those whom I deem are in need of it.
For some inexplicable reason, I’ve managed to associate pity with weakness when it comes to me, personally, being on the receiving end of it. I almost feel embarrassed in a sense, as if I don’t deserve it when there are so many other people in this world who unfortunately likely never receive it and should.
I think another reason why I dislike pity when it is directed toward me is because it draws my attention back toward whatever plight is causing someone else to feel sorry for me. I guess I don’t enjoy being reminded of events or situations that warrant pity, because any mention of it prompts me to get sucked back into the negativity tied to that instance.
Despite my reasons for not being a tremendous fan of pity, I do acknowledge that my perception of it is a wee bit toxic and arguably unhealthy. I think it is significant to recognize that my own take on pity is not, and should not, be a universal stance, so as much as I despise others feeling poorly on my behalf, sometimes I just shut my trap and smile because I know people mean well, normally speaking, when they do express pity.
Even though I don’t particularly enjoy it when it affects me directly, I do think we require a lot more empathy in this world. Thank God for empaths and genuine, kind people, and don’t be afraid to let someone know you’re thinking about them. Whether they like it or not, it remains appreciated.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash
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