In July, the midnight sun of Northern Europe stretches the beauty of the city into 20 hours everyday. Enamored with such a summer, I often wander aimlessly around the city even at 11 p.m.
One day during one of these leisurely walks, I received a rejection letter for a job I had previously applied for. The reason for the rejection was that my background was not sufficiently relevant, and considering the high number of applicants, those with more relevant backgrounds were given priority.
A completely reasonable explanation.
I wasn’t surprised or disappointed. Adhering to the principle of maximizing opportunities, I sent a message to the HR, briefly introducing myself. And expressed my regret about not having the relevant professional background and mentioned that I would continue to follow the company and any positions related to my field.
I sent this message to my friend, asking if it was appropriate to send it to HR, as I don’t have much experience in the Western work culture. He was surprised and asked me, “Why do you feel sorry? You don’t need to apologize for not having the relevant professional background!”
At that moment, it felt like a sudden ray of sunshine piercing through all the buildings after a sudden rain, blinding me. I suddenly realized that I was feeling guilty—constantly feeling guilty.
When my circumstances don’t meet external standards, I feel guilty. The logic seems simple: we can’t meet every standard, and we don’t need to feel unnecessary guilt, right?
After that, whenever I wandered around the city, I started thinking about this question on and off.
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I think my upbringing had a huge impact on me.
When I was 8, we moved to a new town. My family left the small place where I was born for a bigger town because my parents wanted me to get better educational resources.
At that time, they had good connections and business in our old place. After moving to a completely new place, they had to rebuild their network from scratch, and the business struggled. As a result, our family fell into a state of poverty and struggle.
It seems like when people are struggling to make a living, they don’t have much energy left to manage their emotions. I now understand that many parents blame their personal disappointments on their children and often take out their negative emotions on children because of those setbacks.
I still remember many times when my father, drunk and angry, would say to me, “Our life used to be so good, all of this is for your education.” When he was extremely busy but still had to cook for me, he’d complain, “Hurry up and eat! I made this only for YOU!” When there was only one ice cream left in the fridge, he’d say, “Your mom and I won’t eat it, it’s for you. Don’t let our efforts go to waste!”
He slips these comments into every moment of my life.
I never thought whether that ice cream was something I deserved, whether every child has the right to an ice cream without any strings attached. In that life, it seemed like nothing was something I deserved. Whenever I got something, I felt I should be full of guilt. What I was eating wasn’t a sweet ice cream; it was guilt and apology, all melting together and swallowed down into my stomach.
As a ten-year-old, that’s how I processed those words. I didn’t have critical thinking skills, and my school only taught me to obey my teachers and listen to my parents.
So, I accepted it, and stopped eating any ice cream.
I accepted that everything was because of me.
My family became poor because I needed to go to school. My family faced many difficult situations because they moved to this new place for my education. My parents’ struggles at work were because they changed jobs for me and encountered these difficulties. They argued because of the pressures of life, which I believed was my fault. If it weren’t for the goal of providing me with a better education, none of this would have happened.
Even though I now understand my father much better, back then he was in his thirties, just an adult who couldn’t manage his emotions well. Maybe he never knew what kind of impact transferring those emotions to a child could have. After all, now that I’m in my thirties, I sometimes cry because of the pressures I’m facing.
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So, what was the impact?
As I started reflecting on my experiences, I realized that the impact was immense. That sense of guilt morphed and spread, crazily extending into every corner of my life and consciousness.
For example, in later relationships, I’d feel guilty for being taller than my partner’s ideal. I’d feel guilty if I couldn’t help them with their work or study problems. If they gave up other plans to spend time with me, my first reaction wasn’t gratitude or happiness, but guilt.
I couldn’t fully accept love, whether it was from friends, partners, or even kindness at work. I never believed I deserved it. I often felt doubtful and even apologetic because I couldn’t reciprocate with equal love and kindness.
A deeper impact of this guilt is that even when I excel, I don’t feel I deserve praise, recognition, or love. Because of the guilt, I think it’s just what I’m supposed to do. In moments of self-desperation, this guilt makes me feel like I owe the whole world.
It’s like there’s a hole in my heart, and all my efforts are just to fill this hole. It feels like I’ve never had a solid, even ground inside me, where flowers of my life could bloom as they would on healthy soil.
Now, I’ve started to carefully try filling that hole of guilt in my heart with some “soil.” This soil consists of continuous self-reflection and the love of many friends. It’s like when someone told me, “You don’t need to feel sorry!” He also reminded me that I have my own strengths and advantages, and that’s how I can help others and contribute to the company.
I’ve come to understand that it’s actually a simple thing. It was never supposed to be so burdensome.
After struggling with guilt and the burden of misplaced emotions for over twenty years, I finally realized that the decision to move wasn’t mine and was beyond my control. I don’t need to take all the responsibility upon myself and feel an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Now, during my aimless walks around the city, I can happily run into an ice cream shop and enjoy an ice cream that is simply sweet.
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