Better with butter

If it weren't for Madonna's 'Borderline' blaring over the speakers at the airport, I just might be able to write the blog that I have had on my mind all week.

Instead, I find myself thinking about scapegoats, and how humans love to have a scapegoat for all that goes wrong in life. About three weeks ago, I was the scapegoat for a woman who thought I was to blame for the end of an engagement that she believed, and for all intents and purposes probably still believes is, destined for fruition.

I think about my ex father-in-law, and how I use him as the scapegoat for my failed marriage.

I think about my son and how he likes to occasionally blame the wall when he falls and hits it.

Certainly politics are all about scapegoats but I'm not going to go there.

I want to know why, why do we, why do I, need a scapegoat?

Admittedly, it's hard to take full responsibility for my actions. I believe in doing so but it is definitely not easy to do.

I think it is particular hard to admit when I have made a mistake. Especially when I see that I made the best decision I could given the circumstances and the information I had at any particular time in my life.

Hindsight is 20/20 and still, what does it serve? What does it serve when a very big part of life is about making mistakes?

I don't know about anyone else but I hate making mistakes. I don't like being wrong about people. I don't like believing someone is kind only to find out he or she went out of their way to hurt me or others.

I find it hard to accept that I allowed myself to be blindsided especially when others saw what I didn't see. I find it hard to forgive myself for walking into a lion's den when I was warned. I have a really hard time with that. It's moment like these when I definitely feel like I am not the brightest bulb in the bunch.

I also don't like being guarded. I don't like how it feels to be so suspicious of people and their possible agendas. It's too hard. I am very much a literal-ist. If someone says they like me, I believe they like me and wish me well. If someone doesn't like me, I believe just that. I don't want to waste my time trying to figure out if someone is telling the truth or not. So I believe what I am told.

But, actions speak much more loudly than words.

I've had a giant learning experience with some people who were very good at lying, who said they liked me and cared about me and my family, and yet went out of their way to hurt me and my family.

And so, as I raise my son, and I watch people who have never met him before, who have never even expressed an interest in getting to know me, reach out and send him very expensive gifts twice a year (birthdays and Christmas).

I wonder just how to explain to him that these people are not to be trusted. Period.

How do I explain that gifts mean nothing from people who have never met him.

It's called bribery. Advertisers do it. Politicians do it. People who claim to be "friends" do it.

People bribe.

People are bribed.

I am not quite sure how to talk to a 6 year old about bribery but I tell you, I want to. I want to tell him that just because things taste better with butter, it doesn't mean we should eat a whole bunch of it. I want to tell him that just because someone is related by blood doesn't mean they have his best intentions in mind.

And yet, I don't want to tell him these things.

What I really want is for him never to have to experience any of this. I want him to know love. I want him to know forgiveness.

And then I realize this: how do I incorporate my own forgiveness around these hurtful experiences especially when no apology has been offered?

I guess I begin with myself.

I begin by really knowing that I believed these people because I had no reason not to. I believed they loved me and my family because I had no reason to believe otherwise.

I need to accept my apology, that I made a mistake...but it wasn't even a mistake...I believed them because I loved them.

And when the facade fell apart, I did what any person with half a mind would do, I ran for cover.

But they are still in my life to some degree.

And they send my son gifts.

And he has never met them. And frankly, I hope never will.

And thankfully he has never played with their gifts, their Trojan Horses...and I hope he never will.

I remember when I stopped asking for gifts from my own family; it happened when I saw they were just trying to make up for their lack of presence. This was very much repeated with my in-laws to some degree. It's nothing new; it's the American way. It's the magician's wand. It's the hand of the Illusionist: let me distract you with all that is shiny while I rob you blind with the other.

It's amazing to me what kind of excuses people will make for blood relatives.

Why are we afraid of the most psychologically fragile people?

Yes, they often are the most dangerous.

But what I am realizing is that exposure is the biggest thing any of us have on our side.

As I watch family and in-laws cower at the beck and call of known perpetrators, I pray to God that I have the strength to teach my son otherwise even as the exact opposite is being role-modeled right before him.

I pray to God that the oppression of those who bully others into "protecting" them will eventually fade away.

I pray to God my son will never know the wrath of a bully at school or a bully in his family.

I pray to God that I can convey to my son that bullies don't deserve to be "bullied" in return but also, they have no place in our home.

There are consequences to people's actions.

Unconditional love does not give license for inappropriate behavior. Somewhere that got lost in translation. Somewhere someone got confused and has misguided entire generations of people into thinking that unconditional love means making excuses and allowances for those who hurt and bully others.

As my son enters Kindergarten and attends a school that offers trainings to parents and teachers alike on human dynamics, I pray to God that I can trust and enter into conversations with the intent of learning a new way to engage with scary or risky situations.

I pray that I can let go of the need to have a scapegoat, and to instead, focus on my own behavior. I pray that my son will grow up not knowing the oppression of psychologically insecure people, and instead, can see through it with compassion. I pray that he will pursue his loves and interests not at the exclusion of others but will know the difference between healthy family relationships and friendships, and oppressive manipulation and bribery by people who claim those titles but have done nothing to earn them.

As we finish a week with two friends who are fairly recent friends, I see that I have made a tremendous shift in my choices when it comes to friendships. Perhaps it is a reflection of my self-worth: as I have a great sense of self, I choose more genuine people to be around. Maybe it isn't that cut and dry but maybe there is something to it.

I pray I can learn all the lessons I pray my son learns...and I pray to have the grace to acknowledge when I haven't, when I have made a mistake, so that I can say I am sorry - to myself, to my son, to a friend, to a stranger - and to correct the course with love, not suspicion.

After all, things do taste better with butter and sometimes we put too much on - even when we know better. This doesn't mean we are bad, or that I am a horrible judge of character, it just means we are human. I am human.

And mistakes are just part of it, of life...and so is butter.