Ever Feel Vengeful? You’re Not Alone

If someone harms me, I want justice. But if I feel shameful (not a foregone conclusion just because someone shames me), I want revenge. How about you? When I’m down, vengefulness is a quick pick-me-up.

Revenge is not, by the way, the same as consequences. All transgressions have natural consequences for the transgressor and others. But revenge is not a consequence; it’s the recipient’s refuge.

Let’s say a bad thing happens to me. Maybe I’m in a class or on a team at work, and I offer a great idea (so I think) enthusiastically. In response, a classmate/colleague scoffs contemptuously. If there’s a kernel of truth in their view, I’m likely to feel exposed and humiliated. But if their behavior reminds me of similar treatment in the past, I will feel exposed and humiliated even if their criticism is inaccurate.

From the perspective of the plural mind being standard and normal, here’s how revenge works: A vulnerable young part of me who has been shamed in the past for exuberance, curiosity, big ideas, boldness, creativity, or whatever lights up at the shock of my colleague’s contempt. IFS calls this part an exile because it got banished from consciousness as a liability.

When the exile’s feeling of worthlessness and unlovability break through nonetheless, as they do in this situation, some of my protective parts, who want to keep those dangerous feelings out of mind, activate. They are proactive, inhibitory manager parts who will weigh in on the side of belonging at any cost. Externally compliant and internally critical, managers work to enforce group norms. In extremity, their behavior becomes life-threatening because a suicide part could activate to silence them. To prevent this, reactive, disinhibiting protectors (a.k.a. firefighters) step up to counterbalance internal shaming with all kinds of distracting and self-soothing tactics, from rage and revenge to various addictive processes.

In this example, where I have been shamed, my managers go to work to fix me. They tell me how I must improve so this will never happen again. They tell me I’m stupid. They say don’t be so excited; don’t think you’re so great; don’t be different, be quiet. In response, my exiles—those parts who have been shamed before and are burdened with feeling shameful—want to hide forever. But they also long to be rescued and hear that they’re lovable. Their pain drives my managers to work harder. You are weak. You are too much. No one wants you. In response, a reactive firefighter crashes into consciousness with that most distracting of distractions, revenge plotting.

In sum, I am disrespected, my exiles feel worthless (again!), and my managers take up the cause, shaming “me” (my hurt parts) in the name of self-improvement. These parts feel indignant at the injustice but also beaten down. It’s too much. And so my firefighters plot to hurt the person who hurt me. They talk big, flex their muscles, and focus relentlessly. They are remorseless in advance. They distract.

If they do take action, my managers will tally up the cost and double down on shaming (as may the manager parts of other people). But even if the firefighters only fantasize about revenge, my managers may panic and turn up the volume on internal shaming. The cycle will repeat, and the heat will go up.

So, who will scoop up the baby? Who will rescue the 1-year-old, the 2-year-old, the 4-year-old who was denied, shunned, admonished, silenced, unloved, or used and whose pain keeps kindling this fire? Not internal critics and not the parts who plot revenge, helpful as their plotting is for warding off that feral grief.

IFS says you can help. The you-who-is-not-a-part. The you with the bird’s-eye view. The balanced and balancing you who has integrity and compassion, inside and out. Revenge is an energetic, persuasive, quick fix for the unbearable threat of feeling small and powerless, but it’s the worst option if you want freedom, fellowship, and peace of mind.