What would life be like if we didn’t lie, if we didn’t pretend, if we didn’t put on a public face?
What if we gave Truth a try?
Given that we live in a Fake-It-Til-You-Make-It culture, and at times that has value, perhaps a premise of no lying, no pretending, and no public face is too sweeping and ambitious a goal. Perhaps telling the truth all the time is as inappropriate as not telling the truth – some of the time.
But what if we didn’t hide who we are quite so much? What if we felt freer to tell the truth of our lives, and without fear of judgment?
Ah, my ignominious idealism is rearing its hapless head again! The reality is that people judge. We all do it – projecting onto others our hurts, jealousies, resentments, insecurities, and our grittiest fears.
Kindness, Community, the “Truth” of Our Lives
This isn’t what I planned to write today; I set aside what I began when I came upon a post by a wonderful woman I’ve never met, in response to a need and request that I expressed to a few in my writing community.
Her words touched me, and I’ve been unable to stop the tears.
The truth of our lives is often complicated. Few of us are “just one thing,” and so the many faces we present are variable, especially to those who don’t know us personally.
There’s nothing surprising in this; we behave in ways that are appropriate to the context and respectful of boundaries.
Moreover, we hold pieces of ourselves back – out of respect for private relationships, for the protection of those we love, and also because we recognize that our view of the world isn’t the only view. Life is open to interpretation.
I’ll say that one again if you don’t mind: Life is open to interpretation, along with motives and consequences.
Yes, I’m being vague and I apologize for that. I’m pounding away on my worn keyboard, a bit raw and a bit rushed. I’m trying to gather my thoughts about places of truth, searching for fitting examples and evocative words, and coming up dry while stealing a glance at the clock.
Time constraints are part of the “real world” that is my truth, and likely yours.
Mavericks with Mouths
Yesterday I wrote about Bethenny Frankel, both here and in a slightly varied form at the Huffington Post.
I see Bethenny Frankel as something of a maverick. A mouthy maverick at that, yes. I admire her ability “to put it out there” – and I say that knowing full well that it’s to her advantage, it’s filtered through a variety of channels, nothing is entirely unscripted or unplanned, any more than what is planned will shield us from the unexpected.
When it comes to Bethenny, I wrote what I sense. Naturally, my impressions are formed through a personal lens and a passel of assumptions. I wrote in light of my view of myself – as an intelligent woman, at times a lonely woman, and one who is driven, strong, and also vulnerable.
My life is not what I thought it would be. My life is not what I “planned.” In some ways, it is so much less. In other ways, it is rich beyond imagining.
I cannot help but write from my own deepest places of disappointment: the legacy of an emotionally confusing childhood, with a troubled mother who gave me extraordinary gifts all the same; and the muddled passage of my marriage and divorce, aware that no “outsider” would understand the inner dynamics, much less my depth of loss.
When I write, depending on the day or the topic, I write from joy: the insights garnered in years of travel, the stunning journey of parenthood, the dizzying heights of connection in all its finest forms – the friend, the lover, the beloved.
I write from my understanding of contradictions: We can love those we don’t respect; we can love those whose actions dwell at the opposite end of the values spectrum; we can love despite the sensation of abandonment.
Defining Our Movable Truths
We all live with contradictions. Why don’t we simply admit as much?
Worries over money walk hand-in-hand with competence and responsible budgeting; sorrow as you greet the undeniable signs of aging can be stared down by utter delight in feeling free, comfortable, and more like yourself than when you were younger. Emotional pain can coexist with optimism. Physical pain can coexist with vitality.
Telling the truth?
Even that phrase is inexact – at least if you believe as I do that our stories at a point in time are what we feel with what we know. Unless we are reporting facts of an incident – and that’s facts, not factoids – and offering that reportage from emotional remove, every truth will be shaped by our conscious or unconscious agendas and experience.
But what if we allowed for our role models and heroes to own their contradictions?
What if it was really okay to say to someone – I’m tired, I’m worried, I’m overwhelmed, I need a hand?
What if we thought to ask a stranger – is there something I can do for you?
Believe me. When we do that, we give to ourselves far more than we ever imagine.
Distance Serves; So Does Rapprochement
I retain a measure of “separation of church and state” between one version of my life and another. I do so for professional ease, though I’ve intentionally allowed these worlds to blend, in part to offer credentials that back up what I say and write.
It may appear that my truths collide and my worlds contradict.
Happiness coexists with stress. Faith in love resides alongside a deeply ingrained suspicion that love won’t last. I am aware of my own strengths as well as my weaknesses, with frequent dismissal of the former and too much focus on the latter.
There are personal triumphs – some I’ve written about and while they may seem small, they’re significant to me. Parenting my sons, thus far, has been among them.
There are also searing disappointments, some of which I put down on the page, and many that I will never speak of.
But what if I could? What if we could – without worrying about being judged?
How Many of Us Wear the Mask?
I come back to the kindness of a woman who wrote about me today, in order to help. I come back to all the Bethenny’s – or would-be Bethenny’s as I imagine her – women who want to be themselves, be loved for themselves; women who choose to pursue their dreams and refuse to subjugate themselves to a society that says “have it all – but not that much and not that way;” women who are willing to put it out there for others to see, but who pay a terrible price in the process.
Yes, I’m making assumptions. Yes, I’m projecting.
But I hope I’m speaking from a place of listening, rather than insisting. A place of my own strength and concomitant fragility.
I hope that I write from the spaces between my words as much as the words themselves, from the recognition of emotions and events that I cannot know from experience, but which are no less “true” or powerful than what I’ve personally lived, learned, and observed.
I cannot imagine a culture in which we all tell the truth all the time. Realistically, it would never work: We dodge, we reshape, we “spin” at least in part to protect, and of course in order to get what we want. But couldn’t we tell the truth more often? Couldn’t we listen with open minds? Couldn’t we accept that contradictions exist?
Imagine the example that would set for our children.
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The thinker (now deceased) I admire most (Dr. W. Edwards Deming) said “You can’t define what it means to be exactly on-time”. I do my best to show and tell people who I am, but I can’t even define that to myself, although I am always working toward that end.
To me truth is right at the top of the list. People don’t often take kindly to it though…
Just watched an old episode of Everybody Loves Raymond and this quote made me giggle
“Honesty – don’t believe the hype”.
But I still stand by it – I have to be me – and even though it hurts if others don’t seem to like my approach to life at least I feel I have been loyal to me and feel at peace. You can’t please everyone so you have to please yourself 🙂
I also feel many silently agree and admire you if you are outspoken but less inclined to support you publicly.
Just show up and be yourself – and there engaging begins – otherwise it’s all just smoke and mirrors.
And you deserve all the kudos written about you on the link …
What a great quote, Vicki Lee. (And thank you for what you said.)
Truth is easier to give to those who we know will listen. I have learned that I can’t always trust people despite my very trusting and loving nature.
And so it goes with blogging. After telling truths on my blog for a while (about 5 years), it became a point of “concern” for family members and friends who would rather I not talk openly about issues that are important for many women, parents, and those who struggle with depression and anxiety. In essence, truth has been turned against me.
While I agree with the phrase that “honesty is the best policy,” I’m not sure if this world can handle it. Either we live in secrecy and talk openly (i.e. an anonymous blog) or live openly and write without authenticity.
Perhaps there is a happy medium and perhaps things will change.
Oh Amber, I hear you. We need to be anonymous to speak most freely, yet when we’re anonymous – or relying on those who are – we’re doing so without the ability to verify or vet their experience.
When we speak and write “as ourselves,” we run other risks (family, friends, jobs) and thus, we must edit and spin to some degree, that degree varying depending on circumstances.
I don’t have a good answer. It’s a fine line. I’m trying to walk it myself.
(I hope you’re doing well. All of you!)
No one can know the whole truth about anyone, or any situation. That is why we are so surprised when a seeming perfect marriage (because that is what we’ve heard about) falls apart and when the troubled one (because that is what we’ve heard about) stays together.
I probably share too much in my personal interactions. I have been asked how can I be so open and honest. When I find someone who has not been honest with me, I am shocked, but then I step back and view it as that being the way so many people function. Go along with what is being said, appear caring and supportive and then gossip about it behind your back. I see it over and over in regards to others, too. I don’t know why people do this. It is like being punished for trusting someone. So I struggle between self protection – how much to say, how much to share – and authenticity.
It is a struggle, lunaboogie. The apparent “transparency” of the Internet complicates as much as it connects.
When dealing with others, honesty is the best policy only when it’s tempered with tact and genuine concern. Too many people use “honesty” as their justification to launch critical remarks. I’m only being honest…. Of course, we all pick and choose what persona we present in differing situations. Is that being dishonest or tailoring an aspect of ourselves for the situation/circumstance? I choose to keep names of family members anonymous when blogging. Is that dishonest, or simply respecting their privacy? I think it’s vitally important to begin the honesty conversation with how honest/authentic we are with deep down within ourselves first.
Justine wrote the words, but I know that she’s not the only one that could attest to your strength, your kindness. Having also been the grateful recipient of your friendship, it warms my heart to see someone give back to you. Yes, we are all contradictions, but what makes you so beautiful, BLW, is not only your acknowledgment of that, but of being so accepting of others’ contradictions.
BLW, I know it’s hard for us to admit uncomfortable truths for fear of judgment, so we lie to protect ourselves, but culturally speaking, this is still a more “truthful” society than the one from which I came because there, you’re not allowed to “air your dirty laundry in public” as it’s deemed as an embarrassment to yourself as well as your family.
While I have been here nearly twenty years and love that we’re more open as a culture here, I still hesitate quite a bit when speaking of private matters because of my own upbringing. I managed to talk about my issues with My Guy by choosing to gloss over the details and focusing, instead, on the big picture of how two people who lost their way can eventually find themselves back together again. But because it also removes the stigma of shame when we talk about the things that society deems we must hide, I felt compelled to share my story as it liberated me, and it helped me grow and even to help others.
But that fear of judgement is all too powerful because, as social beings, we have an innate desire to feel accepted and to feel “normal”. And so we deviate from the whole truth and only reveal what we think others can handle or what we’re ready to face ourselves.
As for the that post about you, it’s the least I can do for what you’ve done for me., and, judging from the comments, from what you’ve done for many others as well. I wish you nothing but the best.
Ah the “truth of our lives” is so difficult. It would require us to admit our imperfections, some of which are profoundly embarrassing. Imagine, however, a world with no lies, no games. I find this most interesting in a close, interpersonal relationship. Part of why I loved being married and the married status. No games. Definitive label. No guessing. No wondering. No insecurities. C’est la vie.
Let’s see.
There was the period in college when I became a total truth speaker, social norms be damned. That was disastrous…’nuff said. Fortunately I learned fairly quickly.
My best friend says I say too much and ask too much that is highly personal. I would never on TV, but in relationships, that helps. I know some amazing things and amazing secrets about people. And on that, my lips are sealed forever. Today in Meeting I spoke to the group of kindly Quakers about the “blatant hypocrisy” of the churches and the good white liberals in their annual celebrations of Martin Luther King’s birthday. I was pointedly referring to King’s Letter from Birmingham Jail, as true today in its own way as it was then. We will see.
@Paul – That “total truth” can be as much of a dilemma at times as too little…