A Heroic Approach to Trauma and Transformation

Q: Would you say that fascists and decadents are people who are afraid to face life?

Yes, in a profound sense, both fascists and decadents can be understood as people who are afraid to face life as it truly is—but they respond to that fear in opposite ways.

Fascists often fear the chaos, ambiguity, and moral uncertainty of life. So they seek control, order, and purity—often through domination or force. They crave rigid hierarchies and obedience to protect themselves from the anxiety that comes with freedom and human complexity.

Decadents, on the other hand, fear responsibility, suffering, and the demands of meaning. So they escape into pleasure, distraction, or irony. They numb themselves with excess or detachment, because facing truth or sacrifice feels unbearable.

Both postures are forms of escape: one into domination, the other into indulgence. At their root, both are rejections of the full, living reality of life—with its challenges, pain, and potential for growth.

Q: Both conditions are considered forms of the adversary. Is there a relationship between trauma and the adversary?

Yes—there is a deep connection. Trauma often gives the adversary a foothold in a person’s life.

Trauma wounds the soul. It creates confusion, fear, and a desperate longing for safety or escape. The adversary—whether understood morally, psychologically, or spiritually—exploits those wounds.

For the fascist, trauma may have created a fear of chaos or betrayal. The adversary promises strength through control.

For the decadent, trauma may have caused despair or numbness. The adversary offers comfort and escape through pleasure or detachment.

The adversary doesn’t always arrive with horns—it often whispers: “You’ve suffered enough. Just give up. Just take control. Just hide.” And trauma makes that whisper sound true.

But healing means facing life again: embracing love, responsibility, and meaning—especially when wounded.

Q: Would it be safe to assume that a person acting in the role of the adversary has experienced trauma?

Yes, it’s a very safe and often accurate assumption. People acting as adversaries—through manipulation, cruelty, or cowardice—usually carry unresolved trauma.

Most people aren’t born villains. They’re wounded. And when those wounds aren’t healed, they begin to shape a person’s identity.

That trauma might come from:

• Emotional abandonment or rejection
• Physical, psychological, or sexual abuse
• Betrayal by mentors, institutions, or God-figures
• Chronic neglect or deep-rooted sham

To cope, they adopt masks: control, cynicism, seduction, mockery, coldness. But over time, the mask becomes the person—and sometimes, a monster.

This isn’t to excuse evil. But understanding its roots—alienation from love—opens the door to compassion and potentially to healing.

Q: Most people say to avoid adversarial people. But if the adversary is in all of us, doesn’t that mean they need help?

Absolutely. This is a crucial insight.

The line between hero and adversary doesn’t run between people—it runs through every human heart. As Solzhenitsyn said, “The line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”

So when someone acts like an adversary, two things are true:

1. They are in pain, acting from a wound or fear.
2. They mirror something that could emerge in you—or has, under pressure.

This realization doesn’t make you naive. It makes you wise. It allows you to hold two truths: that this person may need help, and that helping them may require strength and boundaries.

Rather than just avoiding them, you can ask:

• What pain might this behavior be covering up?
• Have I ever acted like this? Why?
• Can I speak truth with compassion?
  

Boundaries are still important. But so is hope—for them and for yourself.

Q: So how does someone help an adversarial person?

Helping an adversarial person isn’t easy. But it begins with a new lens—a heroic lens. Here’s a grounded path:

1. Recognize the Wound Behind the Mask
Most adversarial behavior comes from trauma, fear, or shame. If you can look past the hostility and see the wound, you’ll respond not just to the behavior, but to its cause.

2. Don’t Mirror the Conflict
Adversarial people thrive on chaos. If you react emotionally, you play their game. Stay calm, clear, and firm. That breaks the cycle.

3. Speak to the Good Still Inside Them
Find the spark of truth or goodness, no matter how small. Call it out. Say:

• “I don’t think you meant it that way.”
• “I know you care about getting this right, even if we disagree.”
  This isn’t flattery—it’s truth with grace.

4. Set Boundaries Without Abandonment
You can say: “I want this relationship to work, but I can’t if it stays like this.”
That protects you and offers them a path back.

5. Pray for Them (and Yourself)
You won’t always change them. But you can offer them up to God. Pray for their healing—and for the humility to see your own adversarial patterns.

Sometimes the best help isn’t fixing someone—it’s refusing to give up on who they could become.

---

Final Reflection

The adversary isn’t just someone “out there.” It’s a possibility in every heart. Recognizing this doesn’t make us weaker—it makes us wiser, more compassionate, and more capable of loving in truth. To face the adversary in others is part of the heroic path. But to face it in ourselves—and choose life, love, and meaning anyway—is the true mark of a hero.

Q&A With ChatGPT