Dmitry A. (SLE) - On Authority, On Rejecting Humiliation and Pressure

If my parents are my friends, then they are not an authority for me. If I respect them, then that is authority.

If someone is an authority, I will imitate them, copy them, study their positive qualities. I will put up with all their shortcomings if it’s a person I respect.

They will be respected by me for showing sincere interest in me, for accepting my interests, for encouraging me in some endeavor. If I did something and it’s important to me, and I’m praised at that moment—that’s it, that’s good. And if I’m also given the right advice, it means the person understands the subject. They showed interest in me, they know more than I do in this area—they are an authority for me.

The moment an authority humiliates me, they can lose that authority. How so? That’s betrayal! I trusted the person, I put them on a pedestal, made them an authority—and they allowed themselves to sink so low. That’s it, they’re nobody. And next time, who knows whether there will be any trust at all. A second chance—I might never give it. This is serious stuff. It’s a real tragedy.

If someone is an authority for me and applies a little pressure, that’s not scary—as long as they don’t humiliate me. To humiliate means to scold, especially publicly, and without cause. If I’m wrong, you can scold me. I know myself that I’m wrong; I’m ready for a remark.

But if I don’t feel guilty and you scold me, you can get a very serious backlash. The first impulse is to punch back—as a response. But how do you punch your parents? You can’t. And then it starts on my side: I don’t want to, I can’t, it’s impossible. Confrontation begins.

You can apply pressure; you must not humiliate.

If I’m guilty but don’t feel guilt, then explain clearly what the problem is. Don’t say, “You’re a piece of shit…” Don’t insult me. You need to explain everything simply, clearly, in normal language. Just put all the priorities in place, and I’ll draw my own conclusions; I’ll punish myself. I’ll understand that I’m wrong. And that’s a minus to my sense of self-responsibility.

<…> No pressure. If there’s pressure—even if it’s just an order in the voice—an enormous desire for physical retaliation arises. Truly, even toward parents. But inside there’s a prohibition: you can’t hit your parents. What am I going to do to them?

I’m just a green kid, and they’re parents, they’re adults. I don’t have the strength to hit them, but the desire is huge. And I can’t. I can’t, and it’s forbidden. That’s it—a block. And this enormous emotional impulse to strike back, and I can’t, it’s forbidden. This can really grow into a serious complex—no joke! Then later, when I finally snap, I’ll hit so hard they won't forget it anytime soon.

<…> I really disliked public punishment; I considered it personal humiliation—there’s nothing worse. There should be no public punishments, no unfair punishments. In general, there shouldn’t be any punishments at all. I wasn’t beaten; I don’t know what that’s like. It wasn’t done in our family. But when someone told me off on the street, scolded me—especially in front of everyone, God forbid with acquaintances present—that was the worst thing. There are many examples of that.

<...> The scariest thing, aside from public humiliation, is feeling stupid. Because of this, I didn’t like studying. I was afraid of looking stupid. I’m not stupid; everything came to me very easily. I hated school. In the early grades: they call my last name—“F”, and that’s it: “Ha-ha-ha.”

That’s it—everyone who’s laughing, two-thirds of the class also got Fs; they’re just as stupid as I am, but they called out my name. Was it really impossible not to announce it publicly? I already know I got an F; I got my notebook back and see the grade. Why humiliate me in front of the whole class and make me look stupid?

Even though two-thirds of them are just as stupid and just as clueless.