The “revenge of others” carries a strange seduction. It feels noble at first — a form of loyalty so fierce that we are willing to dirty our own hands to clean another’s wound. We tell ourselves: They don’t have the strength to fight back. So I will fight for them.
We like to believe that revenge is a personal fire — lit by the wronged hand, aimed by the wounded heart. But what happens when the revenge is not ours? When we step into the arena not because we were struck, but because someone we love was? revenge of others
But here lies the danger: the original injury is not ours to heal. The anger, once borrowed, grows its own teeth. It feeds on secondhand stories, on sleepless nights spent imagining another person’s pain. Slowly, we stop asking the wronged one what they truly need. We become obsessed with a balance only we can see. The “revenge of others” carries a strange seduction
In seeking revenge for others, we risk two things: losing the trust of the person we meant to protect, and becoming someone we no longer recognize — a self-appointed avenger, carrying a grudge that was never whispered into our own ear. So I will fight for them
Certainly. Here’s a short reflective text on the theme — exploring how seeking vengeance on someone else’s behalf can blur the line between justice and obsession. Title: The Edge of the Blade We Did Not Forge