(To remember who you are, you must first see what you have become.)
How much hatred, envy, and suppressed darkness must live inside a person who uses the resentment stored within them — carefully hidden from others or openly shared within their trusted circle — to humiliate another human being?
And how many sit beside them in silence?
They listen. They remain silent.
They agree. They nod along.
They excuse it. They “protect” it.
Because according to them, the other person provoked it.
Yet often this is no longer just a conflict between two people.
It becomes an entire group dynamic.
About silence.
About psychological fogging and manipulation.
About shifting moral responsibility.
This is where the rewriting of the story begins.
The beautifying.
The relativizing.
The blurring of accountability.
Separating “friends” becomes a strategic weapon.
Isolating the victim.
Building walls around them while the pack encourages, strengthens, and praises one another.
Because an abuser often feels truly powerful only when there is an audience.
And when verbal humiliation alone is no longer enough, planned exclusion begins.
Turned heads.
Rejection.
The performance of collective outrage.
And sometimes a seemingly kind and empathetic woman also appears on the scene.
Someone who hides wounded pride or inner pain behind the role of the rescuer.
She sings praises of people she later uses in the same way to soothe her own real or imagined wounds or to gain material advantage.
With gifts, attention, and kindness, she flatters her way into the circle — while gradually becoming one of the invisible leaders of the same dynamic.
Then comes the minimization.
“Nothing happened.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“They deserved it.”
But this should never be done to anyone.
Every word carries weight.
Loyalty to the abuser is often maintained by those connected through the same hatred, arrogance, desire for revenge, or inferiority complex.
But also by people who were once victims themselves — and now choose the side of power instead of facing their own pain.
One of the most dangerous parts of collective abuse is that from the outside it can look human, united, even loving.
While slowly trying to erase someone as a human being.
But one day it ends.
Someone says it out loud: this is abuse.
Someone finally names what everyone tried to blur and hide.
What happened.
Who did what.
And who silently watched and assisted.
It is time to grow up and take responsibility.
To face the traumas that were never healed.
Because there is no interest, ideology, or side that gives moral permission to humiliate another human being.
Will we finally learn to live beside one another — and for one another — without endless battles of ego and destruction?
Because whatever we do to another person affects all of us.
Nothing remains hidden or unresolved forever.
With love,
Ildikó Dajbukát
spiritenergy.hu
