Two parents who seemingly despised eachother, created such an emotionally-charged disaster that in the end it seemed they resented me. But it took me about 20 years to realize none of this mess had to do with me. There was nothing I could have done to counteract forces that were in place long before I was an afterthought tossed onto the Universe's to-do list. They hadn't made peace and I was simply the living breathing betrayal. Certainly--It was a fiery, tumultuous disaster manifesting itself as hate. 

Hate is a reaction to fear, disappointment, hurt, vulnerability, maybe even guilt. It is the dark sister of failed love, more similar than it is opposingly different. Perhaps just a more extreme version of love, even. They are at the very least, symbiotic.

So this disaster at one time came from love, or the nearest interpretation two broken people could fathom. And this disaster made me. Just as the omission of fact can share the bed with a lie, the lessons our parents don't teach us are just as potent. Lasting. Sometimes the most important, are the lessons they don't teach us because they themselves have not learned, or the lesson we never understand until we are older and forced to confront two distinct paths.

Hate is born from the same passion and desire for validity, security. Hate comes when you have failed to process the shortcomings of love and hope in external world to make internal amends, projecting it onto a person or thing, the mirror that has shown you this failure. To truly be devoid of love you must move beyond hate, to a state of indifference which does not allow for the failure of an ideal to consume energy.

When you have removed the validity and security that the sickness founded as it latched deeper into your Self, and reach indifference, hate becomes irrelevant. You are now free to move about the cabin.