New people, old wounds [Edited]

For the past few months, I've been part of a weekly gathering with some friends every Wednesday. We meet up simply to socialise, play RPGs, and spend time together (and beers too).

However, one member of the group (and I'm writing this just to be polite) has been causing issues, yet he is never confronted. He recently got a girlfriend, which is fine, but my patience is starting to wear thin. For instance, when we’re planning, he delays confirming his attendance, obviously waiting to see if his girlfriend is available (in which case he cancels on us). 
Once he avoids making a definite commitment, saying he doesn't "feel up to it," only to suddenly change his mind after one of os proposed an activity that specifically appeals to him. And this, to me,  sends a clear message: I don't care about you guys, but if it benefits me, I'll come.

No one has said a word to him, even when he openly admitted he was prioritising his availability for his girlfriend (which, again, is fine, but at this point, say it right away, don't keep us in suspense until the last minute). When I gently tried to point out that I wasn’t happy with the behaviour, while still expressing understanding about managing a new relationship, not only did no one else support me, but he was actively defended because I didn't know the "full backstory."

Today, despite a few defections, we tried to keep the "Wednesday habit" alive. Having to choose something for the three of us to do, I suggested a game, and he not only rejected my proposal without offering an alternative, but he also didn't let us know if his girlfriend might join (there was this possibility, and me and another guy were actively trying to suggest things to make her feel welcome), yet he remained silent. By lunchtime, he still hadn't responded, even though we were waiting on him. When I reached out, he first casually informed us that his girlfriend wasn't coming and that he didn't feel like doing anything before, finally suggesting an online activity.
This completely contradicts the spirit of our in-person meetups. I was direct: "If I have to be in front of a PC all day for work, I'm frankly going to pass on spending my evening there too."

Again, no one commented. We ended up postponing, while he continued his passive opposition by proposing things he couldn't even facilitate, like suggesting board games when he didn't own any.

I spent hours angry about this behaviour, and I decided to engage in conscious self-inquiry, or mindfulness, to understand the reaction. I think he is wrong, but why am I feeling all this rage and anger? I was angry, not because of the event itself, but because of the disparity in treatment, what I endured in the past, versus what he is getting away with. 

His behaviour and the response of others to it triggered an emotional response rooted in my past, causing me to relive an old wound.

I was feeling a sense of injustice, not just that he was wrong, but that he was escaping the suffering I had to face when I was younger. My mind subconsciously demanded fairness and justice. The thought was something like: "If I were punished for this, he must be too, or else my past suffering is meaningless".
This mindfulness process was fruitful. The crucial step was to stop getting angry at the other person and offer compassion to my past self. 

I had to acknowledge how painful it was for me to be harshly judged and criticised for my mistakes. How I felt alone, scared, and fundamentally wrong, and for that, my sense of self-worth had sunk to an all-time low, which pushed me to repress myself in some things or to be obsessive in attention with respect to my behaviour (which favoured my wanting to always be alone).

Most likely, if everyone else had started negatively reinforcing his behaviour, criticising him, judging him, or simply expressing the same level of annoyance I had with him and his behaviour, I would have felt better in the short term (would have validated my past pain).

[Ndr. Even now, I neither spoke alone nor first about his actions, but I started with "him". I could have deleted it, but I preferred to leave it in to demonstrate how much it's still a work in progress.]

Ultimately, what matters is realising that the criticisms I received shouldn't have called my worth into question. Still, even if they had, I should have remembered that if a mistake impacts my self-worth, so should taking responsibility for it and committing to fixing it. (Besides, everyone in the world makes mistakes; far fewer take responsibility for their mistakes and try to fix them.)

Obviously, I can't change the past, but I can learn from it for the future.

I would like to conclude by adding a particularly fitting excerpt from The Inner Game of Tennis (you can find my other reading notes here):

"But who said that I should be judged by how I do things? In general, who said I should be judged at all? Who? To escape this trap, one must clearly understand that the value of a human being cannot be measured—neither by performance nor by any other means. Do we really believe that an individual's worth lies in their skills? It makes no sense to compare ourselves with other incommensurable beings. We are what we are; we are not our performances. A grade on a report card might measure how good we are at arithmetic, but not how much we are worth. I may desire for others to recognise how well I played or how hard I tried, but they do not define me, and they provide no reason to diminish myself."