Honesty — was it ever cool?
For as long as I can remember, I have been unable to slip in white lies, even when their presence or absence would hardly make any difference to a conversation. In fact, it got to such a point, where people are so dark and cynical that they innately expect you to be polite and lie, that your truths are construed as frank quips or just delightful banter, more than anything else. It’s a strange feeling.
Now, this trait, on one side of the spectrum, can, at worse, leads to some hilarious yet awkward revelations. On the other end of the spectrum, where the said honesty leads to revelation of deep inner feelings, can be treated as downright trite. As it always is, your worldview is shaped by firstly, your parents, and your surroundings. These surroundings largely consist of women, who would make men chase, yearn and wonder. OR. That is what popular literature made me believe. That’s it, isn’t it? It is eons before we get our hands on any feminist literature or at least one which has a woman’s point of view. We, as young girls, see women around us through the lens of men in our life. Despite the best intentions, this view is a distortion and lacks nuance.
So, in a fit of childish resolve, I decided in no uncertain terms — I am going to be honest. I will call it like I feel it. Nothing like the whimsical women in dreamy novels I once devoured. I will not make anyone reach for it, like some distant dream or deny them the pleasure one feels after having known the reciprocity of one’s feelings. I will be different, or so I thought. Ha!
You can already feel the downward spiral coming, don’t you? Of course, out I went on the town, ready to test-run my new, shiny, piping hot, amazingly new personality. If the bell curve taught you anything, you’d know how it went. I became the girl who was so cool, that you could literally find nothing about her to whine. The boyfriend couldn’t brag more. Until it came crashing down and hit me like vice. The withholding mind games are not the possession of only women. Men have doubts, too. If not more, maybe as much as women. Basically, if you are a human, you’d have doubts. About life, relationships, friendships, what have you. At one point or the other. And if somehow, you have convinced yourself that you don’t, and you are sure of a person the minute you set your eyes on them, you are probably kidding yourself.
Maybe saying how you feel when you feel it, at the exact same moment, will surely get you a merit badge, of being frank, cool, awesome but it won’t spare your self-esteem, in the long run. Is there any point in being cool, if your self-respect has taken a recent dive in the deep end of the pool of shame? Maybe I am exaggerating. Maybe it’s all gloriously romantic out there and I am just wallowing because of a prolonged existential crisis. But if you are passionate, and feel everything a little too intensely, save some of that amazing passion for your amazing self, and if you can still spare some, sure, throw it towards someone else.
Sometimes people walk away from love because it is so beautiful that it terrifies them. Sometimes they leave because the connection shines a bright light on their dark places and they are not ready to work them through. Sometimes they run away because they are not developmentally prepared to merge with another- they have more individuation work to do first. Sometimes they take off because love is not a priority in their lives- they have another path and purpose to walk first. Sometimes they end it because they prefer a relationship that is more practical than conscious, one that does not threaten the ways that they organize reality. Because so many of us carry shame, we have a tendency to personalize love’s leavings, triggered by the rejection and feelings of abandonment. But this is not always true. Sometimes it has nothing to do with us. Sometimes the one who leaves is just not ready to hold it safe. Sometimes they know something we don’t- they know their limits at that moment in time. Real love is no easy path- readiness is everything. May we grieve loss without personalizing it. May we learn to love ourselves in the absence of the lover. — Jeff Brown
