What Does "Tough" Mean?

In my professional work, I have encountered many people who have chosen the word “tough” as their life motto. The attitude toward life called “tough” was once adopted as a solution in some difficult situation, but over time it has itself become an unbearable burden and a source of problems. “Tough” means a lack of flexibility, adaptability, and adjustment — the professional term used is “rigidity.” Although rigidity is more common in men, quite a few women also choose this attitude. These people come to me because they have realized that with their “toughness” they cannot be happy. Below are some reflections on what “tough” really means.

“Tough” — in nature, it is a stone. “Tough” is not water. “Tough” is neither a tree, nor a flower, nor grass, nor a little bird. In the human world — asphalt, concrete, steel, glass. “Tough” is a prison. Pathologists will say that “tough” — that is “rigor mortis,” the muscle stiffness that sets in after death.

“Tough” is fear. Immense fear that is hidden. From others, and ultimately from oneself. That’s why “tough” is a lie. Lying to others and to oneself. “Tough” conceals enormous insecurity, a lack of conviction, which disguises itself under a hard shell of self-assurance.

In relationships, “tough” means — not feeling the other. Not even seeing the other. The end justifies any means, including any sacrifices. Other people are merely a tool or an obstacle to achieving the goal. The tough person is unable to care — because that requires the ability to feel, to hear the other. The tough person has no ears. Because ears are an organ designed for hearing the other, an opening through which another’s world can enter into us — but the tough person doesn’t need that.

“Tough” in relationships is violence. Psychological, physical — any kind. With a hard limb, you can bash everyone who gets in the way — because the tough person doesn’t see the other. They only see the hole to bash through.

“Tough in culture?” That’s impossible. Culture implies creativity, diversity, relationships. “Tough” denies what is different — censorship. Culture is used as an instrument of ideology — nothing creative, no self-expression.

“Tough” in education means dogma. No free thinking. The teacher knows precisely what the child should be, what they must be able to do, and what they should want. No individual variations, no individual approach. “Tough” — standards and norms. If you can’t cope — you have no place here. School is only for the capable, not for the sick, the disabled, the incapable. Nor for the gifted, the talented. Because they don’t fit the system.

In faith, “tough” is the philosophy of crusaders, not Christians. Christianity presupposes love for one’s neighbor. The tough person cannot do this for two reasons. The tough person has no one close. The tough person is unable to love. The tough person imposes faith with a hard sword.

“Tough” in healthcare? No prevention — suffering until you have to lie under the knife. There is an alternative — strict and mandatory health prevention, the kind we have already seen. Mandatory morning exercises led by commands broadcast on the radio in workers’ collectives. Mandatory presentation of a toothbrush upon first request. An enema once a week.

“Tough” in foreign policy — war. Holding talks is not “tough”; “tough” is showing how things should be. “Tough” is racism, sexism, and fascism.

“Tough” is a dead end. Although it may look like a good solution, a way out, over time it creates suffering. It is no coincidence that in Latvian these words — “cieti” (tough) and “ciešanas” (suffering) — sound so similar.

Don’t be tough!