When I traded sessions, a while back, I got acquainted with my fears. Before that, I thought I knew what fear was, and what it felt like, but I have been learning a lot since then. I have discovered the many ways fear masquerades as something else: Often anger. It starts out as reluctance, “I don’t want to,” then escalates into annoyance, then into full blown “pissed off,” if, whatever it is, doesn’t back off. So many of my preferences are really fear, it makes me wonder who I really am. I’ve been processing all of that, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something important.
One piece of advice I got from the other session was, “Look inside,” and I’ve been doing that. A lot. I don’t like what I see, for I see darkness. I also see that I’ve never let anyone in, ever. Not a super surprise that, but still. I wouldn’t have characterized myself as quite so cut off, but there you are. I can see that I’ve spent most of my life holding people at arm’s length, at best. Over the past some years, I have been letting some people closer and closer, to the point of letting them in a little ways, but no one gets all the way inside.
I don’t even know if that is a good idea. You really don’t want to let everyone inside, do you? At least, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t think that everyone wants to see everything that’s going on inside me. It seems that there should be some people who, what, want to help? Huh, I’ve had enough of “helpers” thank you. They just want to listen, a bit, then offer cookie-cutter, one-size-fits-all advice. Then get pissed off if you don’t take it. Or not. I know because I’ve played that role. Not much of a relationship there if all you do is listen to offer advice. That role was comfortable and safe, but I eventually figured out that there wasn’t anything there. I was always the “strong,” Mister Advice Giver, who couldn’t show any problems, because, that would mean that I didn’t know what I was talking about after all. That’s a pretty lonely life.
So, in my problem solving mode, I realize that I need a new set of friends. I find that there are a few people that I have been able open up to, under the right circumstances. There’re not many, because I have tended to surround myself with people like myself, but I have been slowly moving in the direction of hanging with a different kind of person. Another problem I have is I don’t know how to Be with these people. I don’t have any experience with sharing without some kind of goal in mind. Part of my mind still has a problem with that. Everybody wants something, right? Anyone I talk to will either want something, or expect that I want something from them. I don’t know if that’s true, it’s just been an unspoken assumption all of my life. So unspoken that I just realized that it was there.
Can I honestly be sure that I don’t want something, that I’m not working some kind of angle? Here is where things get weird. I find myself trying to carefully convince them that I have no agenda, while never 100% sure that it’s true. I don’t even want to think about how that must come off on the outside, I must seem pretty odd, at times. Hey, I blame it on my upbringing: I have no idea how people are supposed to behave in these kinds of situations.
There was no affection, of any kind, my family. Well, that’s not quite true, I remember a one time when I felt close to my mom when I was pretty small, but that’s pretty much it. Nobody “talked” in my family. They yelled, complained, gave orders. But talk? Nah. My number one priority was to survive, and saying anything that might come back around to haunt me, was something I worked very hard to avoid. I was schooled from an early age to say as little as possible, because, no matter what I said, the older kids would find a way to turn it against me. And then I always blamed myself for being stupid enough to let something slip out.
It took me at least a decade, after I left home, to learn to have a conversation. Even a trivial “Hi, how are you,” was a strain. In my head was the ever present calculation about how much did I have to say to get them to go away, without revealing anything that they could use against me later. Work was always like that. Sitting in the lunchroom, hiding in a book, listening to other people’s conversations, wishing I wasn’t quite so alone, but knowing that I just “didn’t have anything to say.” Over time I built up a supply of harmless conversational items I could pull out, when necessary. Sort of like conversational flash cards where I could whip out a canned comment or response. What I said didn’t always fit in with the rest of the conversation, but it was better than nothing.
Over time, I gradually realized that “saying nothing” really wasn’t working all that well. After a point, the conversational nothings become so meaningless that you want to slash your own throat, just to get it to end. I was pretty clear that I had surrounded myself with people who worked on that superficial level, and I was growing to hate it. I am still learning, but I’ve picked up a few things that seem to help.
First, find different people. You can’t always pick your co-workers or family, but you can pick your friends. So find a community where you can say what you want without it being turned against you. I’m not saying that’s easy, stepping outside of my comfort zone to talk to a different class of people is, well, uncomfortable. You don’t know what you’re going to get. You have to use some judgment. Get out of your “lost puppy,” “Will you please be my friend,” mode and value yourself a bit. You don’t have to accept everyone who does you the honor of bestowing their presence on you. Take some time get to know if you really fit before jumping all in and making commitments.
The next thing is like the first: Learn to shrug off hurtful or unkind comments. Then, keep at a distance from people who continue to make them. Again, this comes back to valuing yourself, because you truly don’t need anyone who makes you feel bad about yourself. Even if it’s only part of the time. I’ve had trouble with this, as do many other people. But I’ve pretty much gotten to the point where I don’t want or need someone who won’t hold up their end of the relationship.
Now, for the last thing on my list, learning to accept and meet people where they’re at. This is a far as I’ve gotten, so I have no idea what it’s like to fully achieve this or what might lie beyond it. At this point, I should be able to tell what’s appropriate for each person and situation and share at that level, respecting the boundaries of the other person. I am still learning how this works, how to be intimate on some levels without jumping in whole-hog. I’m really getting that relationships do take time, no matter what stories or movies you may have seen or heard, and the vast majority of relationships only go so far, and that’s the way it should be. A relationship isn’t a failure because it doesn’t meet your initial expectations. They are what they are, not what you think they should be.
I believe I’ve come a long way, but there is a ways more to go. When you stop holding people back and keeping them out, the question then becomes, how far is far enough? And, far enough for what? Now with my divorce, I’m staring at the possibility of having other relationships at some point. What will they look like? How will I know that I’ve actually found something I want to stick with? At the moment it feels like I have this really big emptiness inside that I’ve never really looked at, or allowed anyone else to see either. At the moment, it appear really dark. But I sense the possibility of something wonderful there. All I need to do is learn how to see it.
When letting people in, the first hard lesson I learned is that you can’t force people to be what their not. If they can’t/won’t be what you need, you need to move on, no matter how hard that is. You don’t have to burn bridges and slash-and-burn your way out: You can let them go with love and be friends. But you do need to let them go. The same thing goes for new people: Accept them at the level where you both are comfortable. You don’t want to be a bully or a doormat. It can be really hard, sometimes, to not lay too many expectations on any relationship, we are all human. I’m still learning all this, so I really have no idea what’s going to happen next. I’ve already moved way past anything I ever imagined before, and these are just friends, so who knows what might actually be possible? I assume that I’ll never know it all, but I’m sure there’s a whole lot more to explore.
