Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Someone recently told me that I am brave because I can talk about my emotions and deeper problems with other people and cry. Or at least that's what I think this person said, I could have completely misinterpreted and am now giving myself way too much credit. But it still got me thinking. The sociologist in me stretched and said "Why do we not talk about deeper emotions and share things? And why would someone consider that brave?" Because I consider it being a burden on others, but I can't help myself, I have to get those things out or I will explode.

As I look at the conversations I have with my friends, the people I work with, and my family, I see a few things. We talk a lot. There are very few moments when I am by myself, or even just one on one with another person. This type of atmosphere is not particularly conducive to even getting to a point where deeper topics even come up. The bigger the group, the more uncomfortable it is.
So we are never in situations where we can talk about anything more than six inches deep, twelve if you're lucky. Which makes me sad. I crave deeper conversation.

There is also the fact that certain people fill certain roles in our lives. Some people we hang out with a lot, but don't talk about much with, others we might not see very often, but they are a comforting shoulder to cry on every time we see them. If someone is always a part of a group of friends we hang out with, they are probably not going to be someone we confide in, as opposed to someone we hang out with one on one, simply because of the nature of the time spent together.

We are also largely a product of our individualistic and privatized western society. Privacy and freedom are our most valued possessions. If we let someone know about our deepest fears, hurts and problems, we give those things up. We sacrifice a lot of privacy, obviously. We give up freedom with that privacy because with the knowledge we have just given to the person we share with, we give them a piece of control over our situation. The size of that piece is dependent on the relationship between us and them, but we feel that we could very well be placing our lives in their hands. That is why a lot of people have trouble sharing deep fears and troubles. They are afraid of giving up that freedom.

Love is giving that knowledge freely to another person and trusting that they will not abuse it.

Now to the second part: Why would someone consider me brave?
Well, the only thing I can think of is that because of years of therapy I have grown accustomed to getting things off my chest to a third party, and as I said earlier, if I don't I will explode. I try to hold it in, but when I can stand it no longer, I have to find someone to talk to. So I do. I cry. I'm used to crying in front of people. I realize that telling people things does not mean that I am giving up any freedoms. It is actually incredibly liberating. I only hope that I am not burdening them, which is one advantage of a licensed therapist. They are paid to listen. *Dream job* if I could leave it at work. So I am not brave, just well practiced. There are plenty of other areas I need a lot of work in.

4 comments:

Jonathan said...

Hmm... I think I might know that person that called you brave...

I am mostly a private person... I deal with things silently. Maybe I learned that from my dad. Anyway, it is really scary for me to really open up to people. I think it is because I am not comfortable with who I really am and I don't want people to know all the not so good things on the inside. So for me, it would seem brave to tell someone what I feel or why I hurt.

Brian said...

This is intriguing. I think the reason that you were called brave for talking about yourself is that we live in a world (especially at BYU, ugh!) in which you are expected to keep to yourself.

I know how you feel though. It's only been recently that I've begun to let people in and know my feelings (obviously to an extent). And it's been liberating. On the other hand, I can definitely see why some people prefer to deal with their emotions on their own. So, I guess this is a roundabout way of saying that it shouldn't be unusual or noteworthy for you to express yourself. That's just part of your personality.

Unknown said...

So, I was just thinking that I'm not sure what I think about this whole brave thing. (Not to put you down or anything.) I think that yes, it could mean bravery, but I'm not sure it always does. I think that if you share things with people, it's good but I also think it is important to limit those people you share things with. If too many people know too many things about you then you have too many people who are really close to you. I think that this is one way marriages and relationships stay afloat. If I were married and I shared my deep feelings with 5-10 people how special is my wife? At the same time, it would be good to have so many good friends that I could rely on but I wouldn't have that one special one.

Again, I don't want to say that sharing things isn't good, in fact, I agree that it can be very liberating, in fact, that and writing (journal and other stuff) has been the only way I'm still sane this semester (assuming that I am sane ;).

I also agree that sharing can be a burden to people. This supports my notion of not sharing with too many people. Yes, there are some people who genuinely care but sharing your latest feelings about a boy ("I like him!") and sharing your want for less homework are usually things you can share with just about anyone but deeper things, especially if they are negative or pessimistic can be a huge burden for people and so, I feel should not be shared with a large amount of people. Pick one, maybe two, for those deep feelings.

Ok...I think I've said everything I was thinking.

Kristopher said...

A genuinely interesting post that made me feel and think, in about that order. I’m intrigued by how liberating you find the process of expression. That would be nice. I’m less prone to share than I once was, because I had sadly concluded that most people don’t care enough. They’re too self-absorbed, by and large; at a time in my life when I mourned, there was no one to mourn with me. Indeed, within months of my divorce, a leader in the singles ward verbally abused me for not believing as many others did on a number of issues (none of which had to do with my marital situation or possible reactions, and all of which were subjects upon which they had not done their doctrinal homework). He then said, “Why are you so stoic? I wear my emotions on my sleeve.” I calmly thought that the only possible reactions to his tirade were sorrow or anger, neither of which seemed very productive. He didn’t deserve to see my soft side, particularly since for a little while he sought occasion against me. Alas, that’s altogether too critical, but perhaps you catch my drift.

Your statement rang true on multiple levels: “Love is giving that knowledge freely to another person and trusting that they will not abuse it.” I don’t worry so much about whether I as an individual (or my suppressed feelings) would be abused, but whether truths I might share would be. In that sense, yes, it seems that companionship is the ultimate repository of depth of knowledge and feelings, with a healthy measure of respect and trust. One of my greatest frustrations is that inability to achieve sufficient depth of friendship to allow someone in on that. Essentially my only palpable fear is of not being tough enough for what the Lord will expect of me, and I don’t feel that I have to or even should explain myself to others on that score. So where does that place me with all of this? Am I boxed away unhealthily? I don’t believe I have self-esteem problems. I don’t believe I have difficulty sharing feelings, even if I don’t react to life the way most people would. I haven’t discovered that it’s even possible to explain myself to others and so I don’t. Maybe some people need to be open and others shouldn’t be. My jury is still out on that one.

You stated that you were “not brave, just well practiced.” Most forms of bravery are the result of long-term practice of some sort, though President Monson gives the final analysis: “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past.” If you are able to reveal your feelings freely, then it’s an ability, whether you arrived at it through inherent talent or long practice. In summary, I’ve never observed you burdening others with emotional disclosure. I’m disposed to chalk the aforesaid situation up to bravery. :-) Especially since most of mankind seems to struggle—needlessly—with fear of rejection! “Rejection by whom (of what caliber)?,” “Rejection for what?,” and “How does this rejection pertain to exaltation?” are all appropriate rejoinders.