When I was in college, I was a die-hard fan of the Twilight Saga. I remember that right after class, my best friends and I would go straight to SM City and wait for the mall to open just so we could be among the first people to watch the latest Twilight movie in the cinema.
I also remember how drawn I was to Carlisle Cullen’s character. While everyone else was swooning over Edward, I was the only one who chose Carlisle. In the story, their family lived a “vegetarian” lifestyle. As vampires, their natural food is human blood. However, they chose to feed on animals instead. Even so, whenever they smelled human blood, they sometimes struggled to resist their instincts and could attack humans unconsciously and unintentionally—even those they loved.
I looked at my own life and at the people around me, I also reflected on the stories that others shared on social media. I realized that people, no matter how close they are to one another, often feed on other people in different ways.
During my moments of stillness and “laziness,” my mind began integrating my memories. I started to understand my own shadow, my tendencies, my emotional reactions, and how exhausted my nervous system had become. At the same time, I began observing other people from a more neutral perspective. One realization stood out to me: humans are natural predators. Our greatest advantage is not physical strength but intelligence. Because of our desires, fears, and aversions—wrapped in what we call the ego—we inevitably hurt other people, often without realizing it.
It is unsettling to see how manipulative people can be. Some scheme to get what they desire. These tendencies exist everywhere—in workplaces, churches, spiritual communities, families, friendships, random encounters, and even among small children. We all want or need something. We all have fears and attachments. We are all trying to survive. In that process, we inevitably hurt one another.
There is a saying about seeing a glass as either half full or half empty. Seeing it as half full represents optimism, while seeing it as half empty represents pessimism. Naturally, we all want to choose optimism. Life is too precious to spend viewing everything negatively.
Yet, realistically speaking, our optimism is often what leads to disappointment, betrayal, and frustration. Most of us believe that people will treat us well. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don’t. More often than not, the hurt they cause is not intentional, but it hurts nonetheless.
Because we long for harmony, we assume the best in people until disappointment arrives. Once trust is broken, relationships are rarely the same. This cycle repeats itself in countless connections, as though we never grow tired of being disappointed.
So what should we do? Should we isolate ourselves and live like hermits? I actually tried embracing that idea. I imagined living alone on top of a mountain, meditating in solitude and leaving humanity behind. But I eventually realized that, human as I am, I crave warmth. I need connection. Perhaps the very thing we need is also the very thing that wounds us. Life is full of irony, isn’t it?
So what is the main point of this reflection?
Perhaps it is simply this: when you don’t know whom to trust, trust human nature. And human nature, by itself, is not always trustworthy.
As negative as that may sound, humans are natural predators. We sit at the top of the food chain not because we are the strongest, but because we are the most intelligent. So when someone hurts you, you have three choices. You can act like prey and tolerate the mistreatment. You can run by setting boundaries and walking away. Or you can fight—in whatever healthy form that means for you.
No one has the right to judge the choice you make in those moments. After all, we are all trying to survive. Sometimes I even think that the impulse to morally judge others can itself become another expression of our predatory nature. I once believed there was a clear line between right and wrong. Now I think reality is more nuanced. Balanced judgment often lives in the gray.
So why did I write this?
Honestly, I’m not entirely sure.
Perhaps I simply want to say this: enjoy the company of others, but never forget that a predatory instinct exists within every human being—including yourself. When someone hurts you, don’t immediately question whether they are a good person or whether they had good intentions. Instead, recognize that they acted from parts of themselves they may not even fully understand.
Just like vampires drink human blood because it is in their nature, humans also possess instincts that can wound others. Yet just as Carlisle, Edward, and their family chose a different way of living despite their nature, human beings also have the capacity to transcend their instincts. Through self-awareness, maturity, compassion, and the gradual softening of the ego, we can choose not to feed on one another.
–G.A.