When I was younger, so many things were black and white.
If in a relationship your partner hit you, you left, automatically, like a knee-jerk reaction. Same if he cheated on you. If someone raped you, you went straight to the police and gave them all the information you could. If someone in a position of authority to you sexually harassed you, you reported them to all the relevant people immediately. Your responsibility was partly to yourself, but it was also to every other person that might potentially be hurt by your decision to not speak out. Right and wrong. Black and white.
I can read the paragraph that I just wrote, and believe every word to be true. I can read it and feel the fierceness of the statements: a reminder to all the world that such acts can not go unreported, without consequence, that individuals are strong and that no one, no one should take advantage or abuse in such a way.
This I believe. I swear I do.
But so help me God, I have come to know shades of grey in the midst of that stark black and white. And suddenly I can’t see the way forward, because every path that once was white is muddled by things I never thought could exist in those situations…
Like fear. Like trust. Like uncertainty. Like family. Like power. Like habit. Like self-protection.
Like (and oh how unbelievable this might have sounded to me, once upon a time) that keeping silent might be the very thing, the only thing that gives you the space and time to heal, because speaking out might actually shred your heart in ways which would only continue to damage you, at a time when any more damage might truly break you.
I am learning not to judge those who live through situations that were once so black and white. Because they are coping the only way they can. They are doing the best they can. They are protecting themselves, and trying to heal, and holding on as best they can. Because nothing is black and white anymore. Because unless you can feel just how a soul is being broken and trying to piece itself together again, then you are in no position, and have no right, to judge them.
Because I’ve had to learn not to judge myself.
So here, in the midst of the shades of grey, between old convictions and new understanding, I am learning to hold compassion instead of judgment.
How about you? Is the world as black and white for you as it once may have been?