I resent that... and that... and that

A prime operative in my family of origin was:

1. When you’re mad at someone, don’t tell them. Even if they ask.

2. In fact, don’t talk to them at all.

3. But never, ever forget what they did.

Of course, nobody said this out loud. They didn’t have to. They did an excellent job of modeling how to create and hold onto resentments.

We just let everything slip under our skin and fester.

If we’d been in a different culture, instead of white, middle class, Midwestern, Presbyterian America, we might have learned to handle anger and resentment differently.

But we didn’t.

17 years ago, I decided to dismantle my resentments.

I won’t tell you how I eradicated every shard from my icy heart because I’m still working on a sliver or two.

But here’s what I’ve learned about resentment that resonated deeply for me and what I struggled (struggle) with the most.

What is resentment?

I’ve looked at a dozen definitions and here’s my pick:

Brené Brown defines resentment as the feeling of frustration, judgement, anger, "better than", and/or hidden envy related to perceived unfairness or injustice. (Atlas of the Heart)

I’m sharing this one because it includes the feeling of moral superiority that often goes along with holding resentment.

And envy. I could resent you because you drove a car I wanted.

But it leaves out the fact that we carry resentment for a long, long time. Three years later, I’d still resent you for driving that car.

When resentment is productive

Harriet Lerner, author of The Dance of Anger, views it as an opportunity for growth and change.

Brené Brown (Atlas of the Heart again) points out that it can signal a need to set a boundary or ask for what we need instead of expecting others to intuit it.

Mostly, it’s toxic

I never used resentment to signal anything except what other people had done to me.

My resentments felt a box of snakes I carried in my chest, waiting to tell someone exactly how I felt about them or get revenge. That never happened (pro tip: it never does), so I kept cramming more snakes in without releasing any.

That box was full of venom.

In When The Body Says No: The Cost of Hidden Stress, Gabor Maté likens resentment to drinking poison and expecting our enemy to die.

He also says exactly that poison is: not snake venom, but chronic physiologic stress from emotions we don’t express or release. He links chronic stress to physical conditions like autoimmune disease, heart disease, and GI problems.

Chronic stress also creates changes in your brain that can lead to poor memory ❌, depression ✅, and anxiety ✅.

The neuroscience of resentment

When you feel angry or resentful (or excited), your body releases epinephrine (aka adrenaline) and cortisol, stress hormones, and norepinephrine, a neurotransmitter making you more alert.

They prepare you to take action.

But there’s no action involved in resentment. You just stew in the hormones and neurotransmitters. This is the physiologic stress Maté refers to.

Another downside to resentment is the possibility of becoming addicted to it.

Epinephrine and norepinephrine are energizing and heighten your focus. Epinephrine has a very similar chemical structure to amphetamines (aka speed), which have a high potential for abuse.

Low levels of norepinephrine have been linked to depression, which I was taking medication for.

When I began to dismantle my resentments, I felt like I was going through withdrawal.

The physical sensations of indignation had hurt so righteously. They'd been my companions for decades.

I missed them.

How overthinking and resentment are related

Thinking about a resentment can be productive—if your aim is to understand why you feel the way you do or to move toward resolving your feelings.

But resentment is often intertwined with overthinking.

Overthinking fuels resentment

One flavor of overthinking is rehashing the past: arguments, conversations, and events. Resentment adds a twist to rehashing--the “do over”.

I would repeatedly revisit a situation, imagining how I’d eloquently express my anger or disappointment. Refuse to be placated. Fling the perfect last word and walk away. Tell her exactly what I thought about her.

The combination of anger and catharsis nurtured my resentments.

Being in other people’s brains

Overthinkers, including me, love to figure out what people aren’t saying. Why they did that. What they did really means.

In a split second, I could turn a friend being distracted on the phone into their lack of interest in maintaining our relationship. If my partner didn’t say ‘yum’ while I was plating dinner, I assumed he didn’t like it, not that he was thinking about whether the dog needed to go out.

In other words, I also manufactured resentment out of thin air.

Resentment feeds overthinking

Resentment made it impossible for me to get over something I didn’t like. I also wanted to explain — to myself and anyone else who would listen — why I wasn’t getting over it. So I’d repeatedly retell my story of injustice or unfairness to justify my implacable outrage.

The effect of resentment on relationships

(TLDR: Left unresolved, it destroys them.)

Emotional withdrawal

Step 2 of my family of origin’s prime directive was to stop talking to people you’re angry with.

After avoiding dealing with anger religiously for decades, I can assure you it’s the best way to foster and perpetuate resentment.

(And you get to feel morally superior! Alone but superior!)

Emotional withdrawal arising from unresolved resentment can make it hard to even look at someone, never mind talk to them. Forget altogether about the vulnerability and intimacy that are essential to healthy relationships.

Emotional withdrawal looks like:

• Avoiding eye contact and physical affection

• Disengaging from shared activities, like watching shows you both enjoy or cooking together

• Responding dismissively: “whatever”, “I don’t have time for this”, “I’m busy”

• Using work or hobbies as excuses for not being available

Passive aggressiveness, criticism, and contempt

Unresolved resentment inevitably leaks out into a relationship.

It can show up as:

• Passive aggressive behavior like sulking, “forgetting” something you agreed to, or saying you’re OK when you’re not

• Criticism—attacking someone’s character or traits—as opposed to voicing a complaint about a specific situation or behavior. For example, “You’re lazy” vs. “You said you’d help me with the garage sale.”

• Contempt: eye-rolling, mockery, sarcasm, name-calling

My second husband mocked me when we were with friends because he knew I wouldn’t call him out in front of them.

Dr. John Gottman of the Gottman Institute in Seattle views contempt as the most destructive behavior in relationships and a predictor of divorce among married couples.

More conflict

Resentments are reinforced when they come up in arguments that don’t resolve the issue.

My first husband was 30-60 minutes late to everything. I think punctuality respects other people's time (notice how I just slipped into a little moral superiority?) and felt slighted by his constant lateness.

We argued about it often, going over the same old points without resolution. Each time, I felt more frustrated as I waited for him and more embarrassed when we arrived late to something else.

I started dreading attempting to be anywhere at a specific time with him. Eventually, I started driving myself and we took two cars.

Resentment is a form of attachment

As long as I was still thinking about someone who did me wrong, I was emotionally attached to them. I maintained painful emotional attachments to people I hadn’t talked to in years.

For instance, while my closest friend for 15 years was planning her stepdaughter's wedding, we talked about it all the time. It was going to be a production. Her future son-in-law's parents had a long list of invitees that included business associates. They rented a country club with outstanding hilltop views and buses to bring guests from the hotel where they'd reserved a block of rooms. Valet parking. Dinner, dancing, and late-night sliders.

She groused about it regularly--especially about the pressure she felt from the other set of parents.

My husband and I drove hours to get there. It was everything she had described. Gorgeous and witnessed by 120+ people.

The banquet room was filled with tables displaying place cards. Ours were at the table farthest away from the wedding party, with some of her cousins.

I was very hurt. The support I'd provided deserved more than a seat at what felt like a children's table.

I never told her, and I nurtured my resentment long after our friendship withered to silence.

3 ways to address resentment

Best: prevent it

Now I know that having clear boundaries, asking for what I want and need, and addressing conflict promptly keeps me from falling into resentment.

But I didn’t know that until I had accumulated 50 years of resentments and dismantled them.

Second best: catch it early

Signs that you’re nurturing resentment include:

• mentally rehashing interactions

• avoiding or withdrawing from someone

• feeling a little surge of tension when you think about someone

Figure out what’s going on and address it instead of avoiding it.

Third best: take responsibility for lingering resentment

John Gottman, Brené Brown, and Harriet Lerner all recommend taking personal responsibility.

Here’s what that looked like for me:

Taking inventory

I made a list of everyone I resented— a 50-year backlog that surprised even me.

For each person, I wrote down:

• specific incidents I resented.

• the exact nature of the injury I had suffered (disrespect, financial loss, personal safety threats )

Finding my part

This was challenging and very enlightening.

For each incident, I asked myself:

• What did I do or not do?

• Where did I not set or maintain a boundary?

• What assumptions did I make?

• What expectations did I have?

• What information did I ignore or withhold?

Back to the wedding:

I so wanted to believe I had no part in this one. But "I deserved more than a seat at what felt like a children's table."

I had assumed that we'd spend the evening doing what we'd been doing for months. Talk about all the strangers eating on their dime. The absurdly expensive floral arrangements. The ridiculousness of the production.

I had expected her to buck the social pressure she'd been describing to me for months. To act like my friend instead of a hostess to hundreds.

You know when I finally started to understand how my expectations had created a resentment I'd held for years?

Yesterday. As I was coming up with an example to use here.

Another sliver of ice in my heart began melting.

Recognizing patterns

I saw common themes pretty quickly:

• Expecting people to read my mind or behave in certain ways

• Not expressing what I felt or wanted

• Not setting a boundary

• Making assumptions about other people

You don't have to unpack all your resentments at once like I did. Pick two or three and take them apart. Save the most pernicious one until you get the hang of it.