This one has been percolating in my brain for quite a while now, so... Might wanna hang on to something.
Here's the gist:
You'd think it would be simple, right? Language was created so that we could communicate, and the foundation of what we learn when we first begin to speak is to say straightforward and honest facts about ourselves. "More" when we want more. "No" when we are displeased. And, in the case of one charming little cherub I know, "poop" when we need our needs tended to.
We all learn to be straightforward and truthful when we are young. That knowledge is ingrained deeply in us, so why, then, do we spend so much of our time on lies and half-truths? Why do we say so little of substance, and so much that is designed to mask our real feelings? Why do we use our words to hide, rather than reveal?
Why do we do this to ourselves?
This is about to get complicated, so I'm gonna go ahead and whip out some sub-sections.
Rape Culture
Rape culture is built around a number of harmful social patterns, and I am not in the least trying to imply that a little bit of truthfulness will end in everyone walking hand in hand through a field of daisies and never aggressing against each other ever again. There's so much more to it than that. But, in the wake of that stupid
Headphones article, I can't stop thinking about the terrible damage that gets done by the simple idea that,
sometimes, "no" means "yes."
Campaigns against rape like to plaster the slogan "No always means No" on posters. It's also a popular chant at rallies. And I would
like to approve of this--
I can't believe I'm actually going to say this. Please aim for the torso, not the head.
--but I don't. I don't approve of it because it isn't true. We all
know it isn't true. And because we know it isn't true it removes the impact of the real message, which is that we all need to
act like it is 100% absolutely true all the time, unless we have explicit permission to do otherwise.
The reason we all know it isn't true is because we've all been in a place when "no" didn't mean "no."
"Do you want the last piece of cake?"
"Do you mind if I go out with your friend?"
"Do you wanna come back to my place?"
We say "no." But what we mean is yes, I want that piece of cake, but I'm afraid you'll judge me. I don't want you to go out with my friend, that's going to make things awkward, but I don't want to tell you what to do, either. I'd love to come over, but I have hang-ups about sex. Those are the honest answers. But we don't use them. We say "no" instead, because it's faster, it requires less explaining, and leaves us less vulnerable. We don't have to reveal our soft, emotional, squishy bits when we just say "no."
Actually, I don't say no to the last piece of cake.
And I get that. I get that "no" is easier. But it also leaves us all with an ingrained awareness that "no" doesn't always mean "no." Sometimes it means something far more complicated and, occasionally, negotiable. And because we all know this, people insist on using it as an excuse for some truly reprehensible behavior.
Wouldn't it be better if we all just said what we actually mean? If not fully, at least partially?
"Yes, I want the cake, but I'm not going to eat it."
"I think it's best if you make this decision on your own, regardless of my feelings."
"I'd love to come over, but I think it's wiser if I go home tonight."
Those are safer answers, less vulnerable, but they still have the wonderful trait of being true. They close that loophole that people keep driving through in freight trains bearing massive loads of social conditioning and the expectation that sometimes it's okay to push a little when someone says "no." They bring us closer to the time when "no" really does mean "no."
Hell, I'm so invested in this idea that I just taught my eight year old about safewords. He and his grandfather were playing a tickling game, and I walked through the living room listening to him shrieking "No! NO!" only to leap back on his grandfather the moment the tickling stopped. I paused, looked at Elliot, and said,
"Elliot, do you have a code word for when you really mean you want him to stop?"
"A code word?"
"Yeah, like, you're saying 'no' and 'stop', but do you have a word to say when you
really want him to stop?"
"Like what?"
"Like 'sardines'." His grandfather said.
"Yeah. Like 'sardines'." I echoed.
"So I say 'sardines' if I want him to stop?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Tickling resumes. "No! NOOOOOOOO!"
Boom. Safewords.
Of course, that method relies on communication. So, if you don't know someone well enough to set up a code, better to just stick to honesty for now. The more of us that are honest, the smaller that stupid loophole gets.
Broken Relationships
This one... Y'all, I probably have a whole book's worth of thoughts on this, but I think I'm going to start with a brief story.
I have a friend (actual friend, not half-assed pseudonym for myself) who has been sorta, maybe, kinda, starting a relationship with this guy she works with. It's complicated, for a variety of reasons I won't go into here, but I talk to her about it a lot. This is only fair and right, because she talks to me about the things that are going on in my life. We are, as far as I know, completely honest with each other (at least to the point where we only lie to each other if we're already lying to ourselves, but that's not relevant to this PARTICULAR sub-section, so we'll put it on the shelf for now.) She tells me the things she's feeling, and I tell her what I think about what she's said, and we communicate. Because of that, I know a lot about how she's feeling, and the reasons behind it, and I can more easily understand why she does what she does in certain situations.
You know who doesn't know any of this shit?
The dude she's interested in.
Now, I'm going to go ahead and interject that my friend is not unique in this situation. In fact, I'd say she's pretty typical. Forging a relationship with someone (any kind of relationship, really, not just the romantic ones) leaves us feeling vulnerable. And what do we do when we're feeling vulnerable?
We hide.
We take the soft, squishy parts of ourselves and we pretend they don't exist. As though if we pretend hard enough, we won't be able to get hurt. That's a lie we tell
ourselves, but we tell it so hard that we believe it, and we stuff those emotions down
deep. Then we engage in the weirdest, most convoluted games in order to keep them hidden. Don't sound too needy, don't sound too interested, don't tell them how you really feel.
Nothing here to see.
Because god forbid you should tell someone what's actually going on in your head.
They might not like it.
They might reject you.
But--and this is what I cannot fathom--why does anyone want to be with someone who would reject them for how they feel? Your feelings are what they are. If they are unacceptable to someone, then that is someone you do not need in your life. If you keep them in your life--this person who needs you to hide your feelings away--then you are doing yourself a terrible disservice. How long will you hide? A month? A year? A lifetime?
Another friend (again, real friend) has pointed out that this is
not the same thing as compromise. Relationships are grounded in compromise, and we all need to be willing to meet on some middle ground. Perhaps, in your relationship, your partner hates doing the dishes, but will load the dishwasher because it's important to you, and you hate taking out the trash, but will do it because it's important to them. In that case, both of you
know the reality, you are merely compromising. It is entirely different than if you secretly hate doing the dishes, but you once told them you loved it, because you thought that was what they wanted to hear, and now you do them all the time, and your partner even volunteers you to clean up after big holiday meals.
One is compromise. The other is remaining a stranger to those closest to you. Hiding who you are, and how you feel, in the hopes that it will make you more acceptable to someone. But--and this is so important, I just have to repeat it--why do you want to be acceptable to someone who does not like who you truly are?
print by Liz Climo
Open your mouth and say what is true about yourself. If they don't like it, they were never a good fit for you, anyway.
Becoming Who We Are Not
This leads me tidily into my last sub-section, where I stop talking about my friends, and speak from personal experience.
If you spend long enough hiding the parts of yourself that you worry are unacceptable, eventually you'll forget they're there. You won't just be lying to other people at that point, you'll be lying to yourself. Telling yourself that the person you have hidden is not who you truly are.
Mental Disorder by tiffanydraws
If you tell this lie to yourself long enough, eventually you will become someone you are not.
The words that come from your mouth will be what you think someone else wants to hear, and not what you want to say.
The things that you do will be to please others, rather than to please yourself.
And all the time, while you turn yourself into a puppet that dances to other people's expectations, you will not understand why you feel so frustrated. So confused. So twisted up. Because you have forgotten that these things you are doing were never what you wanted. You have forgotten who you are, on the inside.
Marionette by Trisha McNally
Lies spread. The longer they last, the more people believe them. Sometimes even the one who told them in the first place. Sometimes even the one they are about. The only way to combat this is to tell the truth. To be relentless in representing yourself as you really are, even if there are people who do not care for that person.
Not everyone will. But hopefully
you will.
So... be honest.
Be honest because society needs it. We need people who are unafraid to be truthful even when it's scary, who are not so desperate to hide their vulnerabilities and oddities that we make deception a part of the culture.
Be honest because it's the only way to foster truly worthwhile relationships, where you can love and respect one another without having to agree on every detail. Where you can be who you are and not fear constant censure.
And be honest because, in the end, it's the best gift you can give yourself. To let yourself be who you are is a worthy and valuable thing, and no one else can do it for you.