It’s easy to imagine oneself the victim of someone who lacks empathy.
But lacking empathy is a tormented state.
When I chose not to empathize with others, I was entitled to what I decided they owed me. I ignored their reality, their sovereignty, their capacity, and their desire, all for the sake of my own false idea of my lack. I was alienated from intimacy, unable to connect.
When I chose not to empathize with others I was in constant emotional overwhelm, because I structured my plans for my nourishment relying on others without any regard for whether they were available to me in those ways. I experienced so much loss and disappointment and blamed others. I experienced that others did not care for me, when I was not caring for them.
When I chose not to empathize with others, I was in a frantic state of constantly "helping" in ways I projected others "needed" from me, getting burned out when no one even asked, and then making demands of my loved ones to fix this on my behalf.
When I chose not to empathize with others, I asked that others hold space for my emotions and tend to my emotions for me or alongside me, as if it was their business. When others were reluctant to show up for this process, I expanded my emotions into emergency-territory so that they would HAVE TO show up for me. I deprived myself of EVERY available experience of someone showing up for me simply because they wanted to.
None of these practices of mine were pleasant for my loved ones to receive. These are not practices which are respectful to others, but they do fall into the category of the "work" we culturally imagine relationships require. They were not "bad enough" practices to lose key people in my life, and thus I was allowed to extend my own suffering and the suffering of others.
When I hold my boundaries that I am available to relate in abundance, in choice, and in sovereignty, I am conscious that I am offering the gift of release from this prison of suffering to someone who could be much like I was.
When I take a stand for my sovereignty, I offer someone an opportunity to understand that my desire is as important to me as their desire is to them, and I model what it means to take responsibility for that desire.
When I operate from nourishment, when I serve clear requests and make clear offers and stay within what I've clearly offered, I create an opportunity for others to witness the ease of service from nourishment, to experience someone showing up in choice and devotion for them.
When I refuse to take on the emotional experience of another, into my somatic body or into my conscious responsibility, I am able to hold clear space for them and for myself, not compromising either of these sovereign realities.
The inability or unwillingness to empathize is its own punishment. I don't ever need to punish someone for a lack of empathy. Rather, I practice empathy myself. I cultivate compassion, from a clear memory of being in that constant punishment when I was the one who lacked empathy.