Love is the Absence of Hate

“Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”
Mahatma Gandhi

When love meets repulsion.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can do this, Dr. Marshack,” Marti said. She had a pained look on her beautiful face. Even with the pain, her classic good looks shone through. No makeup — not even a touch of lipstick — her golden brown hair hanging in swirls over her shoulders. Marti relied on her inner loving nature to carry her throughout the day as a professional counselor and mother. Mostly this worked just fine, except when she came home to Danny (her ASD spouse).

“I know it’s tough to love Danny, when he makes you feel so alone, or chastised, or invisible,” I said. “I hope we can help him recognize the need for therapy before he loses you.”

Marti’s face brightened a bit as she realized I understood and that it might be safe to tell me more. Even so she hesitated to say the unspeakable. “I have never had this feeling before — like the love might go away,” she said.

“Where do you feel that feeling?” I asked. “I know that is an odd question but I suspect it is a visceral feeling. Tell me where and what you are feeling.”

Marti looked even more curious and seemed to recognize that I was tracking her. “Yes, it is visceral,” she said with surprise in her voice.

“Like when you are talking with Danny, and he says something unkind, do you feel like all of your blood just drained out of your body? Or perhaps like there is this odd, coldish feeling in your chest? Or even a touch of distaste — dare I say ‘repulsion’ — like you want to shut down and get away?”

Marti’s eyes widened. “Yes! Just like that! How did you know?”

How do I know?

How do I know? Besides being a psychologist and hearing many of my clients expressing this dilemma, I have felt this same conflict with my ASD daughter, Bianca. One time I didn’t brush it off as I had so many times before. I noticed it. I swallowed it because I prayed that love would conquer the feeling. But I still noticed it and it frightened me. I love my daughter so much that I can’t imagine feeling repulsed by her, but there it was.

We were sitting in the movie theater, waiting for a Harry Potter movie to start. She read every Harry Potter book voraciously. She loved the movies too, so when a new one hit the theater, I offered to take her. She was nearly 19 years old but still very immature, as so many young adult Autists are. I decided to take a chance and bought her a book about girls and women on the Autism Spectrum, authored by Liane Holliday (“Pretending to be Normal”). I gave it to her in the movie theater. It turned out to be a mistake and she lashed out at me.

“Are you making fun of me?!” she exploded with an accusatory look on her face.

“Not at all Bianca. I thought you might like to read a book about a woman who discovered her own autism when her daughter was diagnosed.” I decided to be honest and hoped that she would accept that her mother loved her enough to want to help.

But the look of hatred on her face was intense. Even before I felt the shock of her rebuke, I felt my repulsion drain me. It left me feeling totally devoid of loving feeling for her. I wasn’t angry, or hurt, or afraid. I felt none of that, just the self-protective feeling of repulsion. Her hatred had flooded in where I offered love.

Just at that moment, the movie started and Bianca was distracted. I was relieved to have 90 minutes to come to terms with our relationship. It would never be the same. She sealed our relationship in that toxic black and white way of immature people. She went to live with her autistic father and I have not seen her since.

Repulsion is normal.

 I could never have admitted this feeling before I understood the survival mechanism that fostered it. Safety and survival instincts are strong. When my daughter treated me with such disregard — as if I was worthy of utter disdain — and potential destruction — my survival instincts surfaced. In the face of psychological obliteration by someone I loved, I felt the love drain away. Fortunately, a mother’s love is stronger than this primitive instinct. I stood my ground and my love did not go away, even though she left me in the long run.

It is important that you forgive yourself for feeling this repulsion. It is normal and even healthy to protect yourself — to survive. However, if you take a moment to reflect on the feeling, you are not in danger — if you persevere with love. It’s just that you are in the presence of a loved one with Empathy Dysfunction (EmD), who may have no idea how harsh and heartbreaking their words (and looks) can be.

Think about the meaning behind the old expression, “If looks could kill.” Apparently the feeling that Marti and I both experienced has been noted before. NTs find it confusing to be treated this way by their ASD loved ones. Autists are often befuddled that we shut down and pull away. 

The solution isn’t to cave to this abuse, however. The solution is to forgive.

Forgive and let love carry the day.

Bianca has not forgiven me. It has been 16 years since that day in the movie theater and I have had no contact. I have reached out repeatedly to her, without a response. As you can imagine my heartbreak is intense. However, I also know that I love her and will be there for her until the end of time. I have forgiven myself and Bianca. I know that her life is far more distressed than mine — because I refuse to let hate eat up the love.

The bottom line is this. You may not be able to reach the loved one who leaves you with that cold feeling. But if you can find it in your heart to forgive them and forgive yourself for not “getting it” soon enough about a NeuroDivergent relationship, you will be free to let the love flow — between you and among others.

The other day I got an email from a young woman with High Functioning Autism, whom I had treated when she was in middle school. She is in college now and wanted to update me on her progress. She said, “Well, I hope this email reaches you, I just want to say that although I’ve had many ups and downs since we last met, some harder than others, your presence in my life helped me become who I am today and where I’m going in life.”

It is odd isn’t it that we may not be able to reach our own special loved ones, but others will benefit if you banish the hate and the defensiveness and the survival instinct — and allow the love to flow.

As for me, I try to remember that “Love is the absence of hate.” What this means is that hate and repulsion cannot exist in the same space in my heart as Love. What a relief!

8 Replies to “Love is the Absence of Hate”

  1. Tears. So much connects of your story connects with me. The total dismay and hurt at things that are said to me. Belittling, uncaring, mean, did I say hurtful? Hurtful to my core. Over and over. But I know my ASPIE loves me. Took years to be able to forgive, and understand it is the disease talking. It still hurts, but not so much.
    Thanks Dr. Kathy for your sharing and doing all you do to help us.

  2. How odd this should come up on the feed today. Yesterday, ASD spouse backed into the garage door with the back of his car (2nd time) then proceeded to panic and swipe the wing mirror 3 times in 3 attempts, on the side of the opening while I stood and watched him get even more frustrated and attempt to back out.I finally climbed into the car and felt myself go down a rabbit hole of “I can’t take any more’, ‘he’s an idiot’ etc.
    Despite practising self compassion as well as meditation, today I am sad and withdrawn.Sometimes the enormity of what I live with, just ambushes me. I’ve forgiven him, (its not working currently) but no sooner do I rebuild some faith in him than it gets dismantled by another random act of ASDism.
    Its helpful to realise this repulsion is part of the jigsaw, today I’m distancing myself as much as possible, just so I can minimalise damage control.
    My MO is to take regular holidays and breaks without him to replenish me, but these unexpected random acts really drive me into repulsion which can take months of rebuilding to get me back into liking myself, let alone him. So good to realise it is ‘normal’.
    I feel for you Kathy that you have been unable to rebuild with your daughter- tough!

  3. I am still disengaged by my husband (of nearly 30 years) for believing he may ND and asking for a test. I was accused of believing he was a ‘retard’ and the space between has not rejoined. It’s been nearly one year. The test, for what it was worth, let us down also as it seems his results were low. No further testing was mentioned or offered (or would have been possible). I continue to battle on, with my own self-care, my studies which I leverage so much of my own life-experience, and my connection to my daughter (adopted, no ND issues thanks be God). I wish you all well on this diverse journey, don’t take it to heart, use if for good. Sometimes easier said than done, but its not about perfection, it’s about living in our awareness of the grey. With peace,

  4. Dear Dr. Kathy,

    I’m so impressed with how you have turned your pain into purpose. I imagine an immature young woman finding it difficult to accept her diagnosis, would find it tough to understand her father’s agenda to demonize the person trying to help her. So tragic.

    Hugs,

    Lori

    1. Thank you all for your kind words. As some of you noted there are lots of factors at play as to why my former spouse and my daughter each engage in parental alienation in different ways. My ASD daughter is unable to see the behind the scenes machinations of her father. As an attorney and influential person in a small town, he was very successful at creating havoc for me. I wrote about this in my book, “WHEN EMPATHY FAILS: How to stop those hell-bent on destroying you.” I have refined this story in my upcoming book, “LOVE GONE BAD: A story of autism and parental alienation.”

  5. My heart cries for you and your pain. My story is similar. After about a year of marriage, my husband stopped talking to me. In fact he no longer wanted any intimacy or affection of any kind. All his free time was spent visiting family and friends by himself. If I tried to give him a hug or ask him why he was angry, he would have a meltdown and leave the house. This went on for 25 years. Finally I moved away and started a new life. After 6 months he contacted me and was very remorseful for his behavior towards me and explained to me what made him discard me. Apparently he misunderstood a comment I had made as being factual instead of taking it as humor 25 years ago. His rumination, low self-esteem and the need to control me made him unable to think clearly. Its completely sad how he wasted 25 years of our marriage for nothing. He was diagnosed just this year with ASD or Aspurgers. We are still married and living together but his obvious lack of empathy, compassion, compromise, black and white thinking, stubbornness and lack of passion and romance is making me so crazy that I want to run!

    My advice would be to enjoy every minute of your life. I know you love your daughter but she has made her decision just as my husband made his. You can’t change them into rational thinking people. I wish I hadn’t stayed for 25 lonely years. Please don’t follow in my footsteps, it’s NOT what God wants for you.

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