I know when people are hurt… they often have poor judgement. Say things they don’t mean to, lash out, do things that are… ill judged. I know when I’ve been hurt, I have definitely seemed quite off my rocker… which looks like a momentary break of sanity.

But there are red lines you do not cross. You just don’t.

Especially when you don’t know the fall out, or the fall out could be devastating, in the hands of the wrong person, with the wrong mindset. And when the way things are done, and impact mindset and outcomes. And there are people and lives involved.

A work example, which I will grossly simplify to illustrate the point – at the company the Boy works for, because of some commercial discussions around profit share, the company top management decided to report two of the leaders of the fund the works at to the regulators for gross misconduct. Now, the regulators will probably eventually dismiss the accusations. But in the meanwhile, these two senior leaders have families, a reputation. And I guess the record will always be there. These two people, who have spent their entire lives working in financial services, could be barred from working in large swathes of financial services for the rest of their lives. This could affect their livelihood and ability to provide for their families and children. To me, that is just a red line. You don’t take an unfair action that could affect so many people, over what is fundamentally a commercial negotiation. One of the team member‘s in the Boy’s company resigned on principle, I guess out of disgust at the behaviour. He has no family / dependents, which I guess made it easier. Most of this work drama at the Boy’s company unfolded in the last calendar quarter of 2022. The uncertainty and situation was stressful. Of course a lot more so for the Boy, who worked in the company itself, than for me. But I was personally horrified at the company’s behaviour, which to me, indicates a worrying willingness to be ruthless and unscrupulous at the top. Although, perhaps it is arguable that anyone who makes it to the top, has to be some level of psychopathic.

I would really really really rather have chosen oblivion, if I had a choice. Gladly. I would have gladly gladly gladly done that if I could, rather than cause any one any hurt. And I have wrestled with internal demons for a long long long time.

And then for someone to just cross a red line. Not thinking. Wilful refusal to understand, to empathise. With potential devastating consequences. And then the lies, half-truths said, and what seems like deliberate and malicious misrepresentation of facts (or at a push, maybe one can maybe argue some of it is down to definition and personal interpretation), maybe for impact… that hurts too. It is not helpful to anyone, to pour oil on fire.

I understand hurt. I understand pain that never seems to end.

I remember having a big lump in my throat for months and months and months as a teenager. Standing between my parents. Holding it all in, and not telling anyone, because I felt I couldn’t. I felt all choked up. My throat was constricted. And I was still being relatively smiley, chipper and bubbly at my new school. Because I couldn’t just sit down in a corner and break down and cry all day. No one cares and life goes on. But it hurt and hurt and hurt. And one day, I suppose something had to give. And the start of a Secret Santa game led to letters and, over time… sharing, and friendship.

And then when that ended. Even before. Even though I was a bit demented from time to time… shouting in the street showing two middle fingers (very scandalous for SG). I lost 8 kg between December to June. I could barely eat. I could barely get out of bed. When I came to London, I sang endless crappy Chinese love songs (one in particular), that I’m sure my uni friends still shudder to remember. But I played fair. I let him choose. I didn’t reach out to the girl. I let him tell himself that the break-up was mutual.

From time to time, over the years, I sometimes reached out to ask a question about something he would have expertise on. And years later, one day, I cried myself awake, having had a dream of him.

But I walked away. And I don’t think he ever knew how much I hurt. It was a gift. My gift to him. I consumed myself, rather than cross a red line.

“Is freedom to better than freedom from” was a debate topic that either me or my cousin had in our secondary or junior college school days.

I think it’s easy to look at the bald facts and make a snap judgment. Or refuse to understand, or find it difficult to understand… when you’re hurt. Or find it difficult to be kind.

Late last year – in November I think, I had a dinner with a friend, and had a full on meltdown. I was crying and crying and crying. And I think he felt really quite worried for me. I said I spend all my time putting myself in people’s shoes. I really do. I really really really try hard to empathise. And be as kind as I can. (Even though I’m often… impatient, and think things should be done differently. I have my own set of principles.) I said, I was sick and tired of being empathetic, of putting everyone else first.

And yet, the next day, or soon after… I pulled myself together. Papered up the cracks. Put my walls, rebuilt my box. Rather than… hurting someone else. Crossing red lines.

I know everyone is shaped by their own history, they are burdened by their past, caged by their background, upbringing and societal and familial expectations. Everybody has their own demons, their own specificities. There’s a Chinese saying which goes “家家有本难念的经” (literal translation: “Every family has a scripture/ book that is difficult to read”). So we need to be kind, and try to remember not to judge too harshly, on the face of the superficial facts.

So when someone close to me, crossed a red line… in a very thoughtless, careless, callous way. With really poor judgement. With someone the person didn’t know from Adam. There are red lines you don’t fucking cross. You just don’t. Especially not when you say you’re on the same team, we’re on the same team. Especially when.. from what I believe / suspect… this is a particularly, particularly bad idea, because of the specific individual.

Fuck. Literally un-fucking believable.

There are real consequences here.