Moira thinks people are generally liars. She thinks people are constantly in a state of trying to deceive people.
Jocelyn thinks that people tell the truth, but we often don't believe them. She once quoted Maya Angelou to me: "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time. They know more about themselves than you do. That's why it is important to stop expecting them to be something other than what they are."
Lately I've been having a hard time figuring people out, especially when their actions and their words don't align, or worse, their actions and their actions don't align. With the Boy in boarding school for anxiety and depression, my life has been more upside down than usual. Maybe I am having a harder time reading people than I usually do. Likewise, I am not as straightforward, direct or as communicative as I should be. I've been super confused, which I can see could cause other people to be confused about me.
I've been thinking about how much people have told me things about themselves that I discounted or didn't believe. Later I have found out that what they told me was true or consistent, but I didn't believe it. What does it mean when someone tells me the truth, but then I fail to believe it?
I made some charts to help me figure this out.
When people tell the truth and they are believed, that is happy state. When they tell the truth and aren't believed, that is hard. Likewise, it isn't cool to tell a lie and let others believe it.
Life is more complicated than straightforward lies and truths. Sometimes people don't know or understand the truth about their own lives at times. I can relate.
Sometimes, we don't know the truth. For the past year, I had one clear direction: getting my kid help. Everything else was second. Interestingly, I've told several people this, and several of them didn't believe me, including Jack and my therapist. I am just figuring this out now. My therapist didn't believe me when I told him the Boy was my biggest worry. Sure, I talked about a lot of other crap--like drama with Jack, drama with work--for several reasons:
- The Boy was too painful for me talk about. It was like looking at the sun.
- It was emotionally easier to talk/complain/vent about stuff other than the Boy. Talking about the reality of the Boy would break my heart and I wasn't ready for that last year.
- The Boy was actually doing much better once he got into treatment. Of course it was hard, but at least he was safe and getting help.
What about other people? Are they liars because they are inconsistent? Or, are they showing me who they are and I just need to figure that out? Maybe they are showing me who they are, but I can't figure it out. Maybe I can't figure it out because they can't figure it out. Maybe I don't want to believe what they are telling me.
There is another part -- all of the stuff that isn't said. Some of it may be withheld, things we know but don't want to tell other people. Or, maybe these are the things we haven't figured out ourselves, like my worries about the Boy. Some of it I can't talk about because I haven't figured it out myself. Or, maybe it is feelings we have suppressed and not yet addressed.
Sometimes having these truth-or-bullshit conversations are hardest within our own heads. We have to figure out our own truth before we can share it with others. Sometimes we need to talk it out and let others partake in our confusion. I remember my first visit to the Boy in boarding school. He said four things:
- I hate Seattle. I never want to go back there again.
- I hate Montana. This place sucks.
- I love Montana. I really need to be here.
- I love Seattle. I want to go home.
Which one is true? Each of the four probably holds some truth. Here the truth is complicated and messy, and the hardest part of being human.
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