The Path to Change

    Trying to fit in a chaotic, heavily cultured world can be messy. For an adolescent especially, acceptance is pretty high on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. But what is a person to do when their true nature conflicts with societal expectations? Lie, of course. You can have your cake and eat it too, if you do it right. I’m uncomfortably writing this post and exposing a very ugly skeleton in my closet in hopes that, if anyone who reads this finds themselves relating to any of it, they can find some clarity and break the cycle as I did so that they can live a happier, healthier life.

 

-          Failure was not an option, thus neither was growth

o   Dating all the way back to childhood, I’ve felt the pressures of being “good”, in all shapes and sizes. I have a very vivid memory from when I was little and living on the family farm; my parents had left for the evening and upon their return, I was caught red-handed breaking the “no eating in the living room” rule, as I had left a cereal box wide open 12 inches away from the TV (which was also breaking the “don’t sit too close to the TV” rule).  When confronted, I blatantly lied and said one of my siblings did it, knowing very well that my parents wouldn’t buy it. Punishment followed, and thus began my life as a skilled liar.  

o   Virtually every time I was caught and punished for lying, I didn’t necessarily learn the ethical lesson, I simply got better at lying. This trickled into school by cheating on my homework, lying to my parents about having homework, lying about why I didn’t do my homework, etc. Since I felt this pressure to be perfect—especially since my religion drilled the concept of perfection into my head, and going to hell was a real threat—it manifested into this intense fear of failure. It’s funny, now that I’ve gone through my psychology degree and researched journals on learning and memory, it’s so obvious that failure is an integral part of learning and personal growth. I learned to be a better liar, but if failure had been an option and followed by its true consequence instead of harsh punishment for trying to cover up the failure, I can only imagine I would have learned to be a better person. Better late than never, right?

 

-          No one knew the real me, not even me               

o   Spinning a convoluted web of lies took finesse and skill. I got so good at it that I had to start convincing myself that the lies were true so that I wouldn’t have to remember which lie I told which person. It even became so natural that I'd lie even when I had absolutely no reason to. “Where did you meet so and so?” Rather than just being honest, “We met in an online gaming community,” I would imagine an entire story where the following was true: “Oh, we went to school together and then they moved away.” That was my go-to response whenever I told anyone that I made a new online friend—even in response to the friends IN that gaming community—as if meeting someone online is totally taboo (which it was, several years ago, and especially for a young, vulnerable female). I realize now that by lying about it, I was only perpetuating the taboo for myself and others who behaved the same way instead of facing and breaking it.  I was in denial for a while that my entire social circle revolved around the internet because I was too afraid to admit that I couldn’t make local friends at the pretentious art school I attended.

o   I also remember having this false sense of who my parents were, because they lied to protect me from very big issues throughout my life. As soon as I was exposed to the truth, I went through a painful resentment phase until I realized that they are humans too. And I appreciated the truth more than their attempt to protect me, because it eased my own stress of being so hard on myself when I screwed up.

o   In addition to my personal life, my job employers also had no idea who I was. So many people lie on their resumes to make themselves look great, but then lack the qualifications needed to perform the job. Now, I’d so much rather be hired for who I am than paid for what I am not.  

o   On another note, it took me a long time and a lot of heartbreak to realize that I am mostly polyamorous. I would engage in a monogamous relationship with someone I really connected with, but would always feel so trapped as soon as I realized there was that label slapped on me. “Taken.” I hated the possessiveness in relationships but loved the passion and friendship. But those were the “rules” so I portrayed a façade of the perfect partner while letting my heart run wild in a sea of other potential lovers. I wanted to be free, but I also loved so deeply that I wanted to keep a person (or rather, people) close to me. It wasn’t until after I did so much damage to myself and others that I learned about polyamory. “You mean it’s okay to love more than one person???” I recognized that I identified with the polyamorous community when I took jealousy out of the equation. What is so wrong about not fitting into one person’s cookie cutter mold? I could be a great partner to someone in every aspect except maybe they liked to go hunting and I didn’t. Rather than compromising myself, as I often did being a “relationship chameleon,” I just realized they could find someone they wanted to go hunting with; and if it happened to be a person they also wanted to be intimate with, what was the real threat? Isn’t the goal to make everyone happy? I ditched the chameleon façade and have now started to really love who I actually am, not who I claim to be. I asked myself too often, “Why am I only attracting people who are _____?” Now I happily let my freak flag fly so that I can attract the people I actually want. It’s finally really sinking in what my dad meant when he said, “Be yourself; no one else is more qualified.” I lay all my cards out on the table right away and let potential lovers know that I am not monogamous, so it weeds out those who want me to be, and leaves me with the people I can truly connect with; and it’s been incredibly gratifying.

-          I was doing way more harm than good

o   There was an aspect of perpetually lying that I thought was noble. I simply wanted to make everyone happy. And what better way to do that than to give them false hope or a fake friendship? Especially in romantic relationships, I didn’t want to hurt the other person, so I’d put my heart into it but wouldn’t stop myself from loving others—I’d just lie and tell them they were the only one to make them feel special. The truth is, I believe everyone is special in their own way, and I hated leaving someone out in the cold solely because we differed on something petty. I also wanted people to feel good about themselves, so I thought the best way to lift someone up was to commend them, even if it meant commending them for something they didn’t do. It turns out, offering your friendship or intimacy out of pity actually hurts worse than the truth. I know this because someone did it to me—gave me a false sense of appreciation—and when I found out, my heart and ego was incredibly damaged. I couldn’t trust anyone because I couldn’t trust myself. As stated previously, when failure isn’t an option, neither is growth; so by avoiding confrontation when someone did something I didn’t like, I stunted the growth of that person or the relationship. No bueno. Now, as I illustrate genuineness, I’ve learned to deliver and receive criticism, and my ego and relationships are healthier than ever.

 

-          You come to know others by the way you know yourself, and you come to know yourself the way you know others

o   This is something a sociology professor once told me, and it stuck with me the most out of my entire college career. Once I realized I lied more often than I told the truth, I began to question everyone I ever encountered. What is their motive? What do they really want? Are they lying to me? I saw everyone as a liar, because that’s all I knew myself to be. And that feedback loop was dangerous, because when you see everyone as a terrible person, you recognize yourself as one. As soon as I became a genuine and trusting person, I started to see the good intentions from people. And “when you change the way you see the world, the world you see will change.” (Thanks, Wookiefoot.)

o   You also can’t bullshit a bullshitter. Or so they say. I know now how to detect if someone is being deceitful—or at least question their motive without making accusations—but knowing where my heart used to be when I was the one lying, I can have compassion on that person and forgive them for doing what they think is best… simply because our way of thinking can so easily be skewed. The truth is, nobody is perfect, but people generally just want love and happiness like you and I do. And as soon as we put aside our ego and accept that we all need to learn from each other while we stumble through this life, I think society would stop seeming like a game to be conquered and become more transparent and healthier.  

    To most people, these lessons are ones that didn't exactly need to be learned the hard way. But I can promise I am a much better, happier, and healthier person now that I've seen the consequences of my actions, and especially after I've tasted my own awful medicine. Our minds are merely the product of lessons learned and people we've met, and I'm so thankful that I am where I'm at now, because I did NOT like who I was a few chapters ago. Remember to exercise your mind in positive ways and that this world is not a game, it's a ride.

Much peace and love to all your beautiful minds!