For those of you who aren’t familiar with Kintsugi, it’s the Japanese practice of using precious metal, like gold, to repair broken pottery. The gold fills the cracks, making the original piece of art stronger and more beautiful than before. Read more about Kintsugi here. The take away from this practice is that there is beauty in broken things.
When I was eight or nine years old, my stepfather handed me a Christmas wrapped rectangle. Seemed Santa came a bit early that year. I was curious to know what this flat enigma was. He told me I could do anything with it, EXCEPT unwrap it, to try and guess what it was. My tiny tender hands grabbed the corners and began bending the mystery in an up and down fashion. I couldn’t figure it out. I smacked it on the edge of the table. I dropped it on the floor. My stepfather stood there and smirked, allowing me to proceed. After a few minutes, failure set in. Defeated, I asked him what it was, and instead of telling me, he granted his permission for me to open the gift. I remember feeling excited and special as I tore into the paper on my pre-Christmas present, but when I saw what it was and what I had done, my excitement withered into crushing disappointment. My stepfather had given me what no nine year old dreams about ever - a solar powered calculator, which I had unknowingly destroyed with a vigor, cracking the screen while trying to guess what it was.
This memory has stuck with me for nearly 40 years, not because I was given something I didn’t want, and subsequently, couldn’t use, but because my stepfather let me destroy it. I cannot fathom that he wouldn’t have known all that bending and smacking and dropping could result in breaking. He may be a narcissistic son of a bitch, but stupid he is not. When I think about the first time I experienced betrayal, this is what I remember.
Betrayal. We’ve all experienced it, and it sucks when we do. How often are we taken by surprise…blindsided when it happens? And what does betrayal even mean? I am using the word betray in a broad sense, but in accordance with the Oxford Language Dictionary - betray meaning to be disloyal to. This definition, I believe, encompasses the other definitions of betray, which include to treacherously reveal or disclose, to expose to danger, or to unintentionally reveal. Betrayal is the opposite of loyalty. So did my stepfather betray me when he intentionally sat and watching me destroy that calculator? Asked differently, was he disloyal? I believe so. He took something so pure to an eight year old - Christmas - and with malice, caused me to associate such a beautiful holiday with pain and sadness. It wouldn’t be the last time he did this.
I recently experienced a betrayal so severe that I actually couldn’t be more grateful for it. When it happened…when I was told about it, I didn’t get angry, and I wasn’t surprised. Such a gift! I thought, especially after the trauma of this past year with Him and Mac. This betrayal came from amore mio Italiano (my Italian love) for whom I just published that open letter to (read An Open Letter to the Man Who Made Me Feel Again here). What did he do? It is actually too shocking to write, but let’s just say that what he did is so reprehensible and unforgivable that when I ask myself how can he claim to love me and want to marry me, the only answer I can logically conclude is - he can’t. Intentionally hurting someone with a secret of theirs is nothing more than malice.
While I was surprised at what he did, I was absolutely NOT surprised that he did something to betray me. Betrayal is something I have repeatedly experienced, which if we are being honest here, begs a question. What is my role in my own betrayal? I mean, I am the common denominator. How much is betrayal my fault because I open myself up to the wrong people, or because I don’t expect it so when it happens, it’s that much more debilitating? I will say these repeated experiences are teaching me something very valuable; they are teaching me to expect betrayal. It’s sort of a hope for the best and expect the worst dynamic because when you expect the worst, you aren’t destroyed by it. But then how does this all trace back to betrayal being a gift…a form of the beautiful Japanese practice Kintsugi?
The message of Kintsugi is that there is beauty in broken things. If I am being honest, my heart has been broken most of my life, but most recently since July 2022 when I embroiled myself in a love triangle that I never should have. I put myself there because the thought of losing the person who was the one constant in my life was too much to bear. The result of that dynamic did not go in my favor, and as a result, I threw myself into another relationship, this time an abusive one. I put myself in a position to experience a string of betrayals and why? The answer is I was so subconsciously desperate to find someone…anyone to “save” me, that I couldn’t see the capacity I had to save myself. My decision to retreat from Vegas (read about that in my three-part series The Aftermath here) and return to China, leave Shanghai and move to Ningbo, and restart my life showed me that I didn’t need a prince (or princess) on a white horse to come to my rescue. I am my own white knight (knightess?) With this realization came another - it was time to cut out anything in my life that didn’t serve me.
The relationship with the Italian served it’s purpose; I learned that all was not lost in love. I learned to see how some of my old patterns were unhealthy and even dare I say, toxic. I learned that I am worthy of someone’s attention, time, and effort. I learned these lessons from his “love.” From his betrayal, however, I learned an even greater lesson - I learned how to let go. When I was told what he had done, I didn’t get angry. That might be partly due to the fact that I have adopted stoicism as an intentional practice and partly due to, as I’ve said, being conditioned to expect it. It was, however, the first time that I can remember not getting angry and just letting go. I confronted the Italian. I gave him a chance to prove the information wrong, and when he refused, I simply blocked him from being able to contact me virtually again. He’s blocked on all my socials. I deleted him from my phone. Most importantly, I told him in no uncertain terms that our friendship had concluded and not to contact me again. I did this with clarity and strength, and I haven’t looked in my rear view since. He may very well read this, and if he does, that’s fine. I will always remember our time together fondly, and I will always be grateful for this gift he has given me. For without his betrayal, I wouldn’t have actualized the practice of letting go to that which no longer serves me. In fact, shortly after the Italian, I confronted betrayal in a particular “situationship” that has spanned 18 years. After letting the Italian go, I was able to see how this other friendship was more corrosive than caring, caused more damage than devotion, and was characterized more by toxicity than tenderness. So do you know what I did, dear Reader? I cut that branch off too.
I choose to see these betrayals as the gold filling the cracks and the spaces of brokenness still present in my life. My newfound abilities to remain calm, maintain safety, joy, and peace, “save” myself, and let go of the things in my life that no longer work is the beauty that has come from Kintsugi-ing my life. How easy would it be to stay down? How much safer would it be to never love…never trust again? A lot. A lot easier, and a lot safer, but also for me, a whole hell of a lot more inauthentic. And simply put - that’s not who I am. I truly believe that I am strengthened by embracing the awful that has happened, by owning my part in making it easy for these people to do what they did, and by making the choice to get back in the ring. As I reach for my own hand to help me stand again, I do so with humility, grace, and above all else, wisdom because not learning from the mistakes, pain, and trauma brought into our lives will only beget more. So won’t you stand with me, in your own truth, and together let’s make a promise to one another - that no matter what happens, we will Kintsugi the F*ck out of our lives. I’ve got you, dear Reader, through my writing, and through your reading, I know you’ve got me too.
Thank you from the bottom of my broken heart.
Standing with you! 🥰 thank you for sharing your life and heart with us. It makes me feel less alone in some of the things I’ve dealt with that parallel some of the things you’ve dealt with. Knowing you pulled yourself out of it, and are even stronger for it, gives me hope ❤️
Chills. This gave me chills. And yet again even with my chills I still believe that you are the strongest women I know!! Emotionally, physically and mentally!! I truly want you to find you forever live, forever home, you’re forever. But that will come in time. No matter how much time it will come. Love you 🥰