Hearing the truth about yourself is never an easy thing. No matter how humble you may think you are, the truth always hurts. What's fascinating is our adeptness at creating and maintaining the most untainted views of ourselves, our behaviours, words, and intentions- whilst simultaneously being "perceptive" enough to identify the faults and flaws of those around us. As my students would say, “What a good boy/girl you are!”
You don’t know me
I understand how and why we are so inclined to resist any negative input on our character. We believe no-one truly knows our why’s but us. No one sees or understands our motives as we do, no-one knows you like you know you!
I am not a confrontational person, I brush things under the carpet for as long as possible and then tap out when I can’t take anymore. So I feel extremely betrayed when someone calls me out on things I have done or said, especially when I feel that I have let their inconsistencies slide countless times.
I remember my sister and her friend coming to my apartment one Sunday morning to hold a very uncoordinated and unimpressive intervention for me. Their evidence for my recklessness included several 3rd hand accounts of my behaviour, which annoyed me, but I didn’t rebut or contest or even defend myself. I listened intently and considered their words and concern and then went out partying that very same night.
I was drinking every day, whether I was out or not. I had people around me all the time and spent little to no time by myself. I exulted this very true but equally false narrative of being misunderstood, so I wouldn’t have to face the gaping holes in my constitution. I had lost my sense of self and had managed to fade into the likeness of a persona I had created. I was doing things for the sake of it and living on a sort of self-destructive autopilot and my true north was that well-intentioned, poorly-executed intervention. I didn’t know me either and I sure as hell didn’t have grip on my why’s and motives.
Don’t tell me what I need
I hate being told what to do, and I hate it when people assume to know me just because I have chosen to share specific parts of myself. And for a long time, I sought to get back to my intrinsic nature in a vacuum, without external input or contributions because who knows me best, but me? However, when you have ventured so far away from yourself, what you love and what’s important (to you), you NEED people who have seen you at your best, people who see your intrinsic value and appreciate every quirk and flaw, to help you navigate your way back.
Getting back to my factory settings has been a difficult but great expedition, a labor of love and a process of humility. I am grateful for sisters who have nurtured me in my vulnerability, whilst holding me accountable for my actions and choices. A mother who calls me out both subliminally and directly when I slipped into self-pity or victimhood, or when I am self-righteous - quickly reminding me of my errors and mistakes and lovingly highlighting the grace I have been afforded without reservation. To friends who have accepted my messiness and my flourishing, who have cultivated in me intrigue and wonder and have taught me how to interrogate everything, to sift through what’s for me and what’s not. People who have told me and showed me what I need.
Within and without
Having the scales removed from your mind’s eye isn’t an overnight miracle as one would hope, but a practice. As much as family and friends have played a major part in helping me order my life, humbling myself enough to take advice and rebuke hasn’t been the most difficult feat.
Learning to be brutally honest with myself has been the most jarring. I have had to unpack the motives behind choices made and words spoken and deal with their consequences. I’ve had to deconstruct not only the inflated views I had about my character and disposition but also how I had chronicled many events in my mind, where I was the victim or had been unjustly wronged. Identifying instances where I had been unconcerned and callous with people's feelings and accepting the role I played in the disintegration of some relationships. Coming to terms with the truth of how selfish, malevolent and self-involved I had sometimes been in specific moments and seasons.
In the words of Virginia Woolf, "If you cannot tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people." Self-analysis and introspection have become crucial to my staying anchored. It is a task I must engage in daily and periodically, regularly checking myself and my intentions and attempting to live my life as openly and transparently as possible. Recognising the logs in my eye before I even have the opportunity to notice the speck in others. Trying to experience and observe every moment and every person as highly valuable and worthy of my time and most importantly looking intently at my own heart and mind, with the same level of care and expectation. Living simultaneously within and without.
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