I enter each of my relationships with a unique understanding of this idea: “I am meeting someone who has secrets. I don’t know their secrets. Their secrets, if I were to discover them, could quite possibly convince me to distance myself from them. This person is not likely to tell me something they are ashamed of for fear of losing what potential he or she may have in having me as a friend.
This may all seem normal, but it suggests something that could easily inject poison into any potential relationship. The person who hides from me is inclined to believe that I have contingencies on my love. In other words, they are pretty sure love will fail them. What could be left after such a sentence is passed and why is this? It is because we walk into each relationship first as an “other”. We are presumed to be potential enemies. I could turn on you or you on me. This possibility exists.
I have a remedy for this, but it doesn’t always go over so well. I might say to you, “Tell me a secret and tell me something you don’t want me to know.” I’m usually met with a startling look of bewilderment. Surprise follows and sometimes with the same question asked of me – but before they, themselves, will answer. I smile and attempt to give them something of shock value just to see if they will remain. I am often times disappointed. Because when I tell my secret, I find that more than love was needed. I didn’t know it before, but this reaction suggests that in order for me to sustain a relationship for any length of time, I must live, untrue to myself, but true to yours or somebody’s idea of me.
Sometimes, though we give into our desire to be accepted and we play along. We don’t lie, but we do shield our friendship potentials from our darker side.
This does not suggest that our wonderful selves are misleading or unreal, but it does suggest that we want to be perceived as perfect and lack the potential to do bad. It suggests to our friendship potentials that they are not likely to be disappointed or betrayed by us. It gives them permission to continue to project onto us their noble idea of who we are and why they were smart, blessed, or altruistic to include us into their space. We won’t readily admit that we fear rejection as it is the impetus behind why we shroud ourselves in this illusion of perfection. The problem though is that we are all apt to give into our fear especially if fear becomes so compelling that it evidences itself as the only way to preserve what we value. And one such fear realizes itself by leading someone to believe or helping them believe that you are fully responsible for their idea of you.
I write this to you to help you see that those in your life who have betrayed you have done so because they were afraid. Their fear does not justify the betrayal. I am hoping it serves to help you understand that betrayal does not have to offend you. If I were to tell you when you asked me to tell you a secret or something I didn’t want you to know, “I'm not always honest, I have wayward thoughts which could easily undermine your generosity,” would you distance yourself or help me heal? The point being, sometimes we can’t stop betrayal even when we love without condition and sometimes, just sometimes, we’re uninterested in knowing the shame that grips many of our friends. Sometimes their suspicions about us are correct. It’s the secret we have kept to ourselves. It’s the one that says, “I am likely to abandon you, if you disappoint me.”
Can we change the way we see it?
Marquis
Posts
