Meanness

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The last month has been an example of just what a blessing and a curse social media can be. I’ll get to that in a moment.

The first fight I got into was in early elementary school. I spent my days like the other kids on my street, riding my bike, playing in the schoolyard, and going wherever my whims took me.

Another boy fell into this habit of trying to run me off the road. It came out of nowhere, and I don’t think I can overstate how perplexed I was as he repeatedly swerved his bike at mine. Soon he was calling me names (I don’t think he knew my actual name), sending me threatening messages through other kids, and generally working out of the bully handbook.

So random were these aggressive behaviors that I first assumed he had me mixed up with someone else.

Time went on, and sure enough, we squared off after hours at the schoolyard. He took a swing at me, and I exploded with rage, fueled by my frustration with the arbitrary meanness of it all.

In moments, it was over. He lay crying in the dirt, unable to get up as I stomped away. I sobbed at the ugliness of it all on the way home, and how I’d been dragged into it with what felt like no choice.

As the school years wore on, I had plenty more fights, probably losing as many as I won. The same kid even tried to re-ignite our feud in high school. I responded by telling him where to meet me after our bus arrived.

I stood there and watched without a word as he strolled past me. We never spoke again.

As a counselor, I understand a lot about human behavior. Academically and professionally, I can parse out the ingredients in a meanness recipe.

Still, emotionally and morally, it has remained foreign to me.

Meanness shows up in PLACE social media posts sometimes.

We’ve had a new wave of interest, as bigger accounts (hello, runningperipheral!) champion what we do. New faces are appearing in group, and that is always a blessing.

That attention also brings comments from people, many of whom may be EAC.

[I am careful regarding assumptions; I know that they could be bots or other general ne’er-do-wells.]

As the saying goes, “hurt people hurt people.” If you’re reading this, heck if you’re breathing, you understand what it’s like to be hurt.

And here I am, decades later, still struggling to grasp meanness towards strangers.

Side note: I had to pause while writing this to respond to one commenter’s vitriol. I recommended some reading, such as this Ohio State study on the causes of estrangement, or perhaps this one from Rutgers on the intergenerational manifestation of this phenomenon.

Nevertheless, mine is a peaceful and abundant life, and I am grateful for the opportunity to try to help other EPS.

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Brian Briscoe

As a dually-licensed counselor, author, and founder of PLACE, I’ve dedicated my career to helping parents navigate the painful reality of estrangement. Through counseling, peer support, and real-world strategies, I provide the tools and guidance needed to heal, grow, and move forward—without judgment, without labels, just real support.

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