The Slap
When you suppress grief, this happens.
I opened my phone the other day and was shocked to see actor Will Smith march up on stage and belt comedian Chris Rock in the face as he presented the Oscars, for a joke made about Jada Pinkett-Smith’s hair. He then walked back to his chair where, filled with rage, he shouted threatening obscenities at Chris Rock.
It was a mild joke, and in somewhat bad taste, but Will Smith’s reaction was totally out of control and unacceptable.
In my opinion, that slap was the result of Will’s silent grief, which had calloused into anger. Chris Rock was a surrogate target. A safe person to express explosive feelings that Will could no longer keep inside, caused, probably, by multiple sources and experiences dating back to childhood.
When I saw Will behave like this, the overwhelming feeling that rose within me was sadness. I watched a few Youtube videos to hear different perspectives on the event, and was surprised to find rappers, actors, philosophers, therapists and comedians reporting the same feeling of sadness.
I remember, back in 2020, I watched an episode of Red Table Talk (Jada Pinkett-Smith’s online talk show) where she and Will discussed the fact that she was unfaithful with their son’s friend. She painted it as if they were in an open relationship, and Will was the unreasonable square while she was the progressive one who did what she did for her ‘healing’.
According to Jada, it was not ok for Will to have a problem with her ‘entanglement’, as she called it. If he had an issue, it was his issue. And he ought to be ashamed for being hurt and feeling betrayed.
The look on Will’s face said it all. Anyone with one iota of empathy or sensitivity felt it along with him - sadness. The same sadness I felt watching him smack his friend over nothing.
Toxic positivity stinks of immature selfishness. There’s an ‘I’m gonna do me, and you can like it or leave,’ attitude, which actually isn’t tenable for the sustainment of human relationships that require flexibility and consideration of how our actions affect another person we care about. I believe Will Smith has bought into this ideology and has been trying to live up to it, against his better judgement and deeper intuitions.
One week on from The Slap, and we (society) are unable to let it go. Even with Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, global shortages, crazy inflation thanks to covid, and a litany of other problems, that slap was felt across the world, and it still stings.
I think it’s because it touched a deeply relatable and painful place in each of us. It shone a light on a tender, dark corner - the flimsy box containing the ticking time bomb of unpermitted grief.
There are many different reasons why our grief becomes exiled, disenfranchised, ignored, and eventually misplaced, transformed and unleashed.
We were told ‘boys’ don’t cry from a young age and punished for our tears.
We experienced grief about something that others didn’t understand, like the loss of a job, the failure of a project, or the death of a dream.
We found ourselves in a situation where our sadness caused others discomfort. Grieving the death of our ex, while with our new spouse, for example.
Grief and sadness have the properties of water, it is in their nature to flow. And if we suppress grief and sadness, the pressure builds and builds and builds, until whatever dam we built around it can’t hold it anymore.
I think that’s what happened to Will Smith, so I have sympathy for him, although his actions were wrong.
On Saturday, Corbin and I went to the Dog Lover’s Show, which is an annual convention for all things doggy. They have agility exhibitions, cute pup stuff for sale, and you can go around and meet all the different dog breeds.
I rounded the corner and was met with a bulldog rescue centre who were looking for foster owners to rehabilitate bulldogs. It caught me by surprise and I didn’t have time to fortify my emotional defenses.
One of the bulldogs named Mack caught my eye and sidled over to me for some scratches and belly rubs. Bulldogs love to lean on your legs and sit on your feet, and as he did so, I was transported to a moment with my dog, Buckley, who passed away. He was a bulldog and he used to lean on my leg in exactly the same spot, in just the same way.
The dam opened and I began to cry. I snuggled Mack and pressed my cheek into his big round head, and I thought about all the times I’d snuggled Buckley.
Buckley died in 2020 while I was in Canada. The circumstances around his passing were difficult and complicated. He was living with my ex in Scotland, who would not let me see him or participate in his care. I definitely suppressed my grief because I felt powerless. I was thousands of miles away, trying to get through the pandemic and settle into the stony unfamiliarity of a new country.
I believe The Slap captivated me and others because we recognized it as a Y.E.T moment that we, too, need to beware of. A mere two years ago, my grief over losing my pets turned to hardened rage. I used to dream about screaming in my ex’s face and throwing punches at him before breaking down in tears. The Slap lives within each of us.
In A.A, Y.E.T stands for:
You’re Eligible To
We say Y.E.T when our minds try to convince us that our drinking wasn’t that bad. We respond to these thoughts by saying:
‘It’s not that bad Y.E.T’.
You may not have lost your house, your job, your relationship, or your health, but if you keep drinking, you’re eligible to.
Will Smith’s slap was a Y.E.T moment for chronic sadness suppressors. You may not have lost your job, a friend, the respect of your colleagues, your reputation, or control of yourself, but if you don’t find a healthy way to acknowledge, express, and act on your sadness, you’re eligible to.
Now, I’d love to hear from you. Do you have unacknowledged grief or sadness within you? What do you need to help you heal?