Passive Aggression: The Dirty Fight
image: Ayo Ogunseinde for Unsplash
Don’t you just love being passive-aggressive? You don’t have to worry about the sheer messiness of huge fights, bouts of crying, the screaming, yelling, and banging on doors associated with anger. At least the fights aren’t messy. Passive aggression uses poisonous silence instead of firearms. It is at the same tI’me both so dirty—and so civilized. It even has a British accent!
(Mind you, I’m not calling the British as a whole passive-aggressive; I’m just saying that passive aggression is generally delivered with the cutting politeness of a Brit drinking afternoon tea as they plan the next strategic move for the Empire.)
Let me share something about the essence of passive aggression. It is so delightful to not have to take responsibility for my anger, and say:
“I forgot your birthday, honey, I’m sorry. It is definitely not because I’m angry at you!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn't do anything, I’m just quiet.”
My favorite? When someone asks, “What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” and I just say, “Nothing. It’s fine,” in a petulant tone that slaps the other person in the face without allowing them to fight back.
It is never a clean fight.
Being passive aggressive means I always have the upper hand, and I’m controlling the situation. I’m angry at you and I’m making you pay for something that, most likely, you don’t even know about. Maybe even I don’t know exactly why I’m angry, but it doesn’t matter. I just need to make you feel uncomfortable. There is only the drop-dead silence of my ongoing cold war.
Passive aggression is a below-the-belt move that immobilizes the other person—who often didn’t even know there was a fight going on. The thick tall passive-aggressive wall creates a chilling coldness that makes people cringe around me. The wall gives me the protective certainty that nobody can hurt me anymore. It creates a safe distance from coworkers, loved ones, unloved ones, and from my own hurt inside. I’m building a thick wall so I don’t feel hurt… so why am I still hurting?
I’m hurting because when I’m behind thick tall chilling walls I’m all alone and hopeless about a better outcome. I’m hurting because I’m prolonging a fight with a loved one. I’m hurting because behind the wall there’s no peace or love, just anger and resentment. I’m hurting because I learned that nobody will listen if I say what hurts me. I’m hurting because I just know how to hurt back when I’m hurting. I’m hurting because I choose power struggle over vulnerability.
Passive aggression is an awesome war move, but it can make you prisoner of your own victory. Is that what you want for your life, for your relationships?
