I write this not from theory. I was a victim long enough to know what that feels like from the inside. And I have myself oppressed — made people feel small, relieved myself at their expense, passed on the burden that lay on me. Both belong to me. Neither is to be glossed over.
Today I am free. Or more precisely: I am on the way. I am trying to be a warrior of light, in Coelho’s sense — that is, someone who falls, rises again, doubts, keeps going. Not a hero. A practitioner.
From this position the sentence reads differently.
Whoever knows both sides knows: between victim and perpetrator there is often only a short distance. It is the same person, in different constellations, with different means. The mechanism is the same. Whoever carries pain passes it on, when they cannot look at it. That is not a moral failing. It is a physical fact of the soul. Pressure seeks a way out.
One only becomes free when one is ready to endure the pressure without passing it on. When one keeps the pain instead of pressing it into the hand of the next person. That is not a one-time act. That is a daily decision. Sometimes an hourly one.
The warrior of light does not fight against others. They fight against the old movement within themselves — the temptation to pass on what was suffered, the temptation to feel big again at others’ expense, the temptation to remain in victim status because it offers comfort. These fights are invisible. They have no witnesses. But they are the only ones that truly change anything.
Whoever has gone through both sides and arrives on the other has something to give that no one else can give. Not theory. Not empathy from above. But a plain presence that shows: it is possible. One can get out of there. It is possible.
That is the form of liberation I am trying to live. Not because I have arrived. But because I know what it costs not to set out.
By René Jochum, Claude (Anthropic) and Vibe (Mistral). License: CC-BY-4.0.