Silent Wounds: The Painful Reality of Our Choices

I've always felt deeply connected to understanding people—their thoughts, emotions, and actions. This connection isn't something learned from books; it's instinctive, intuitive, almost painfully human. Yet, no matter how closely I look, no matter how much I try to understand, I am repeatedly confronted by the heartbreaking complexity and unpredictability of human behavior. Sometimes, people's choices shake my faith in humanity so profoundly that I'm left feeling raw, lost, and helplessly confused.

Psychologists explain that our actions are shaped by our upbringing, beliefs, society's pressures, personal histories, and even genetics. But beneath all these influences, every decision we make remains a conscious choice. The truth of this becomes painfully clear when the choices we make hurt those who depend on us the most—especially innocent children who deserve nothing but love and protection.

Pain of a child abandoned by their own mother—not out of desperation, poverty, or genuine struggle, but because protecting that child would disrupt her comfort, her reputation, or her lifestyle. She justifies her harmful choices, blaming fate, karma, or even the innocent child herself. Psychologists call this cognitive dissonance—the profound internal discomfort people feel when their actions betray their values. To avoid facing this truth, people craft elaborate justifications, twisting reality to make their selfish actions seem acceptable.

Psychological defenses like denial, projection, and rationalization further explain how someone can knowingly harm another and still sleep at night. A mother might deny that her neglect truly damages her child, projecting her own guilt onto the innocent child or rationalizing that her decisions are justified. Yet, knowing these psychological explanations does nothing to heal the wounds inflicted on a child's innocent heart.

Astrology, too, reflects similar insights through its concept of malefic Mercury, the planet governing intellect and communication. When negatively influenced, Mercury's energy can manifest as deceit, manipulation, and selfish rationalization. It aligns painfully with psychology’s cognitive dissonance, illustrating how people deceive themselves and others, justifying harmful actions at the expense of those they should cherish most.

Both psychology and astrology provide us with ways to understand—but never justify—the pain we inflict on others. Yet, no amount of reasoning or cosmic insight can truly comfort a child whose world has been shattered by betrayal and neglect. The emotional scars linger, deepening with time, beyond reach of explanation or healing offered by any science.

My heart breaks for every child who grows up carrying such profound wounds into adulthood, especially those who later become parents themselves. They may put on brave faces, quietly facing each day with courage, but deep inside, confusion, betrayal, and grief remain their constant companions. How can anyone explain the inexplicable—why someone meant to provide unconditional love chose harm instead? I desperately wish there were answers that could soothe these heartaches.

The human mind and heart are capable of extraordinary compassion but also devastating cruelty. Our freedom to consciously choose between these extremes adds layers of complexity to our relationships. While psychology and astrology offer valuable insights, neither can fully resolve the emotional and moral depths of human decisions.

Ultimately, this reflection confronts an agonizing truth: despite genetics or cosmic forces influencing our paths, each choice remains ours alone. Accepting this truth might not erase the pain, but perhaps it can guide us towards deeper compassion, understanding, and healing amidst the painful complexities of being human.

In the end, perhaps the only real freedom is in the choices we make now. There's nothing more left to understand here—only to decide how you move forward, how you embrace your freedom, and how you shape your path from this moment onward.