You’re wrong. But you’re louder than me, so you win, but you’re still wrong.
If I tell you that you hurt me, you don’t get to decide whether or not I am right. You don’t get to decide what hurts me and what doesn’t. And you don’t get to decide the level of hurt I should or shouldn’t feel in any given situation. I am Annie. I feel Annie’s feelings; a unique privilege… and curse. So… unless you’re an empathetic psychic, all you know about how I feel is what I tell you.
But that won’t shut you up… Will it?
No, no! Of course not! You must defend your honour and that of 23 generations of your ancestors who left the motherland a millennia ago to spread their profound wisdom and strong humanitarian values. When I told you you hurt me, I pretty much intimated that your mother was a hamster and you father smelled of elderberries and that your family dog likes to dress up as a cat and wants to be called Kitty. How dare I accuse you and suggest that you have the character of comic book villain! You ARE Superman, not Lex Luthor!
Oh wait! You didn’t mean to hurt me?! Well lemme just go ahead and stop being hurt immediately then!
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I fucking hate that statement. Sure, ok, sometimes it’s true and sincere. But most of the time, it’s what people say when they get caught being assholes. And even if the person didn’t mean to hurt me, I AM STILL FUCKING HURT!!!!
I love metaphors so here is one:
If you take a knife and stab me in the arm: there will be a hole, I will bleed, it will hurt and I may require surgery.
If you take a knife and stab me in the arm and then exclaim “Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”: there will be a hole, I will bleed, it will hurt and I may require surgery.
Get it? Uh? GET IT?????
So… next time someone says you hurt them. How about you pause, breathe and ask the person how you hurt them and then apologize. Don’t tell them how they feel, it makes them want to slap you around a bit with a large, half decomposed, trout.