Why Do We Keep Getting Hurt by Those Closest to Us? A Buddhist View
A few days ago, I had plans to meet a friend.
She showed up about twenty minutes late, and while I waited, a thought popped into my head: This friend is always late. I'm always the one waiting.
I hadn't even seen her yet, but I was already seeing her through an old memory.
This happens to all of us. Before we even meet someone, or the moment we do, a thought fires off automatically: "Right, this is the person who always does that."
Why can't we let go of an impression once we've formed it? Why do we keep assuming the person in front of us is the same person they were back then?
Maybe the problem isn’t the other person.
Maybe I’ve been reacting to who I remember them to be, rather than to the person standing in front of me now.
I recently came across a helpful trick. Whenever irritation or hurt rises up, whenever that "there they go again" feeling shows up, you pause and ask yourself one question:
"Am I reacting to this person as they are right now, or to a person who only exists in my memory?"
That one small question is enough to change everything.
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| Photo by the author |
Venerable Beopsang offers a way to understand why this happens and how to bring this insight into everyday life.
Thought Always Layers the Past Over the Present
In one of his talks, Ven. Beopsang shared insights based on Byron Katie's book, A Thousand Names for Joy.
The focus of that day was the pure joy of meeting the person in front of you as if for the very first time.
Unfortunately, he said, our thinking always interferes.
"Oh, I know this person," or "They did the same thing last time."
Thoughts like these drag old memories into the present, blinding us to the person standing right in front of us.
By nature, thinking deals only with what has been or what is yet to come. It draws from memory and anticipation, rather than the reality unfolding right now.
Judgments like "That's just how they are" or memories of past hurt all belong to yesterday.
Yet we lay that past directly over the person standing right before us today.
It's the same reason a parent watching their teenager slam a bedroom door might think, in pain, "They didn't used to be like this. What happened?"
But the child who just slammed that door isn't the child from yesterday, or the child from five years ago.
They are someone new in this moment, but our old memories keep us from seeing them that way.
Ven. Beopsang explained this by describing two ways the mind operates.
The first is the mind that simply sees things as they are. The second is where one thought leads to another, piling judgment and interpretation onto what we experience.
The first is what he calls the mirror-like mind, or pure awareness — it simply notices whatever arises, without judgment.
When a bell rings, before you decide "that's a bell" or "I like that sound," there is just the hearing itself.
Up to this point, nothing has been added to the experience.
The trouble starts the instant we slide into the second — the realm of thought — where one thought triggers the next, and we end up believing all of it is 100% true.
Thoughts like "I like that sound" or "The neighbors added onto their house and we're still stuck with the same old place" arise naturally; that's not the issue.
The issue is mistaking those thoughts for truth.
The moment we do, greed or irritation can take over, and an ordinary situation can suddenly feel unbearable.
The point isn’t to get rid of thoughts. They will come.
What matters is noticing, “Oh, I’m thinking this right now,” instead of immediately believing it.
The moment you notice it, a little distance opens up between you and the thought, and you stop being dragged along by it.
What matters here is building the habit of noticing whether you're awake to the moment.
A simple way to practice is to keep asking yourself:
Not Erasing Thought — Practicing Distance From It
Hearing all this, it's easy to think the point is to stop thinking altogether. But that's not what Ven. Beopsang meant.
Getting rid of thought entirely is impossible anyway — and it isn't even necessary.
What matters is that when a thought arises, you don't immediately accept it as an obvious fact.
Instead, you build the strength to step back and simply observe it.
This ability — to notice a thought — connects deeply with the Buddhist concept of Right View: seeing things exactly as they are, without distorting them through judgment or discrimination.
Seeing the present moment as it is, without judgment, might sound like a lofty goal. But we've all already tasted it, here and there, in ordinary life.
The first time you see the fjords along Norway's coastline, awe rises up on its own. In that moment, you're simply seeing — nothing more.
For that brief moment, there is no comparison. You’re just looking.
But within minutes, comparison creeps in: "This reminds me of the Swiss Alps. Similar, but somehow different too."
And just like that, you've slipped from the first mind into the second.
The moment something feels familiar, comparison and judgment follow automatically.
People work the same way. When we look at someone familiar, we're already filtering them through everything we think we know.
Which is why Ven. Beopsang put it this way:
"You've never actually met your parents. You've never met your husband or your children. Not once. You only ever meet your thoughts about them. You don't see them as they are; you meet them through your own judgments."
In the end, the problem was never the other person. It's our failure to see them as they truly are.
Who's in front of you right now?
Someone you know — someone you've seen a thousand times? Could you, just for a moment, look at them as if you were meeting them for the very first time?
Four Small Practices for Breaking Free of Old Thinking
In this talk, Ven. Beopsang shared a method from Byron Katie.
Whenever a painful thought arises, she encourages us to ask four questions, then turn the thought around and look at it from the opposite direction.
The questions go like this:
"Is this thought true?"
"Can I absolutely know it's true?"
"How do I feel when I believe this thought?"
"Who would I be without this thought?"
And finally, you take the thought and flip it into its opposite.
Say the thought is: "That person doesn't understand me."
Turned around, it might become:
"I don't understand that person," or
"I don't understand myself."
Strangely enough, the reversed statement often feels just as true — sometimes truer — than the original.
None of this is complicated. It's simply a pause, a small gap opened up between yourself and your thought.
The turnaround step matters most.
It helps you recognize that the thought tormenting you was never the only truth, but simply one perspective among many.
So how do we actually bring this into daily life?
Based on Ven. Beopsang's teaching and Byron Katie's method, here are four practices to start today.
First, simply notice the moment irritation or hurt arises. There's no need to suppress the feeling.
Just notice it plainly: "Ah, hurt just came up."
Second, once a day, try looking at someone close to you as though you were meeting them for the first time.
The instant your eyes meet, silently repeat to yourself for a few seconds: "I am meeting this person for the first time today."
It might feel strange at first, but after a few days of practice, you'll notice your gaze softening.
This works for places and objects too, not just people.
At the subway station I pass through every day, I sometimes look at the platform across the tracks and think, "I was just born, and this is the first thing I'm seeing."
And in that instant, it really is.
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| Photo by the author |
Third, when a strong emotion rises, try asking yourself even just one of Byron Katie's four questions.
"Who would I be without this thought?" is especially powerful — it reveals that the problem you believed was real might have simply been a story your mind built.
Fourth, turn the thought around and see whether there might be another way to understand the situation.
Turn "That person is disrespecting me" into "Maybe I've been disrespecting him," or "Maybe I've been disrespecting myself."
This isn't about proving your original view was wrong.
Just seeing another possibility can be enough to loosen its grip.
One caution here: this isn't about blaming yourself. It's not "I'm the one who's flawed" or "This is all my fault."
When you find even a little truth in the reversed thought, the grip of the original thought begins to loosen.
You may suddenly realize, “I was caught in a story my own mind had created.” And with that realization comes a sense of relief.
Most of the conflict that keeps repeating in our relationships isn't really about the other person.
It's about how rigidly fixed our way of seeing them has become.
Just once today, try meeting the person closest to you as if for the very first time.
The moment you set down the old memory, you finally meet the person who's actually there, right now, in front of you.
And when you meet them as they are today, rather than through your memory of who they used to be, you may discover an unexpected sense of ease in the relationship.
Expand Your Inner Peace
Should these reflections offer a gentle pause in your busy routine, feel free to explore my previous posts.
Each piece is crafted to help you unspool life's intricate knots, quietly pointing you back toward genuine calm and enduring happiness.
[What's Actually Running Your Life?]
[How to Live in the Present: Being Born Anew Every Moment]
[What Is Non-Self (Anatta)? How the Buddha's Teaching Can Free You from Anxiety]
A Moment to Rest with the Truth
Today's thoughts draw inspiration from the compassionate teachings of Venerable Beopsang.
To go deeper, I highly recommend watching his talk, "Only First Meetings, First Experiences, First Love Exist: You Are the Very Center of the Universe."
It will help today's message settle even more gently into your heart.
"May all living beings be healthy, happy, and prosperous. May they be safe, secure, and free from all dangers and enemies."
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