The discomfort of honesty
I have often written about the HOW of the 12-step program. Most of my readers know how much I admire and personally make use of the 12-step program even though I do not have an addictive disorder. Most of the issues addressed in the 12-step program are, to my way of thinking, common to most, if not all, of us humans. Certainly, to this human.
Just yesterday I was talking about the fact that honesty with myself, much less with others, can be very uncomfortable. The reason why it is so uncomfortable is that many of us carry around a more idealized image of ourselves than the reality of who we are on a day to day basis. The example to which I referred yesterday while meeting with some men and women who are in a residential treatment program for addiction, was one I may have previously mentioned. For many years, I was a member of a racial justice committee at the YWCA. Members of this committee were required to examine and write their own history of learning to be racist. They also were expected to share this with other members of the committee. The first time I wrote about my history of racism, I talked about intentionally using my three or four-year-old knowledge of the racism of the adults in my life to shift the blame for my behavior to the African American boy with whom I had been experimenting with making cigarettes out of weeds in the empty lot near my house. Rather than own my role in this decision I blamed in on him and, thus, reduced my punishment. I lied about my role and, for years, I kept this incident a secret because I was so ashamed of what I had done. As a member of the racial justice committee I was sure that my history of racism began earlier than most and was more reprehensile then that of the other members of the committee. What I found was, of course, that other members of the committee had similar histories. At the time, I was the newest member of the committee and, thus, I had not heard their stories. It was a relief to find out that I was not any different or worse than the other members of the committee.
Since then I have been involved in many situations which have challenged me to be more honest with myself about my thoughts, behavior and feelings. I have discovered that I am no more and no less human than many of those individuals that I admire. Yet, it seems that daily I am confronted with the opportunity to “come clean” with myself and often with at least one other person about a lie that I have told myself. For example, this morning I was chatting with my primary care doctor about the fact that the results of blood tests this week showed that my blood sugar level - the A1C- was higher than it has been only a couple of months ago. I had told the doctor that I had significantly reduced my carbohydrate intake. Yet, when I began to review what I had eaten and compared it to a list of high carbohydrate foods, I had to admit to myself and the doctor that while I reducing pasta and most potatoes I had increased my intake of some other high carbohydrate foods. Admitting this led me to make a decision to further reduce carbohydrate intake rather than take another medication.
Fortunately, I have the sort of relationship with my doctor that makes this level of honesty relatively painless. Still, I was reluctant to admit what I was doing because I did not want to have to tweak my nutritional intake or admit how much I had cheated!
This is a relatively benign example of the lies I tell myself and then tell others. There are many other examples with which I am confronted daily. These include:
The bottom line is, of course, that it seems that few, if any, of us humans are entirely satisfied with being who we are. We seem to have a basic, strongly held belief that we are not enough – good enough – wise enough - attractive enough – talented enough. Honestly and acceptance of ourselves is a life long journey. Fortunately, I am no longer shocked about the fact that I can and am still dishonest with myself and, thus, admitting it to myself and others is much easier than it was even a week ago. I know that everyone knows that I am this human who, by definition, is a work in progress.
Fortunately, I am not in a position where being honest is going to cost me a job, reputation or some other form of public humiliation. I am not a politician, CEO of a company or organization, or a person who has built a professional reputation of being more than I am. All of my friends know and accept that they and I are works in progress. There is nothing I am likely to do or say that would come as a shock to them. Occasionally there is that person who I thought accepted me as I am who is “shocked” at my behavior and withdraws from our friendship. There is nothing I can do but accept their decision. Obviously, this was a friendship build on the sand of unrealistic expectations. (This statement does not excuse my behavior or reduce my obligation to make amends when possible.)
Written June 14, 2017
I have often written about the HOW of the 12-step program. Most of my readers know how much I admire and personally make use of the 12-step program even though I do not have an addictive disorder. Most of the issues addressed in the 12-step program are, to my way of thinking, common to most, if not all, of us humans. Certainly, to this human.
Just yesterday I was talking about the fact that honesty with myself, much less with others, can be very uncomfortable. The reason why it is so uncomfortable is that many of us carry around a more idealized image of ourselves than the reality of who we are on a day to day basis. The example to which I referred yesterday while meeting with some men and women who are in a residential treatment program for addiction, was one I may have previously mentioned. For many years, I was a member of a racial justice committee at the YWCA. Members of this committee were required to examine and write their own history of learning to be racist. They also were expected to share this with other members of the committee. The first time I wrote about my history of racism, I talked about intentionally using my three or four-year-old knowledge of the racism of the adults in my life to shift the blame for my behavior to the African American boy with whom I had been experimenting with making cigarettes out of weeds in the empty lot near my house. Rather than own my role in this decision I blamed in on him and, thus, reduced my punishment. I lied about my role and, for years, I kept this incident a secret because I was so ashamed of what I had done. As a member of the racial justice committee I was sure that my history of racism began earlier than most and was more reprehensile then that of the other members of the committee. What I found was, of course, that other members of the committee had similar histories. At the time, I was the newest member of the committee and, thus, I had not heard their stories. It was a relief to find out that I was not any different or worse than the other members of the committee.
Since then I have been involved in many situations which have challenged me to be more honest with myself about my thoughts, behavior and feelings. I have discovered that I am no more and no less human than many of those individuals that I admire. Yet, it seems that daily I am confronted with the opportunity to “come clean” with myself and often with at least one other person about a lie that I have told myself. For example, this morning I was chatting with my primary care doctor about the fact that the results of blood tests this week showed that my blood sugar level - the A1C- was higher than it has been only a couple of months ago. I had told the doctor that I had significantly reduced my carbohydrate intake. Yet, when I began to review what I had eaten and compared it to a list of high carbohydrate foods, I had to admit to myself and the doctor that while I reducing pasta and most potatoes I had increased my intake of some other high carbohydrate foods. Admitting this led me to make a decision to further reduce carbohydrate intake rather than take another medication.
Fortunately, I have the sort of relationship with my doctor that makes this level of honesty relatively painless. Still, I was reluctant to admit what I was doing because I did not want to have to tweak my nutritional intake or admit how much I had cheated!
This is a relatively benign example of the lies I tell myself and then tell others. There are many other examples with which I am confronted daily. These include:
- I retain a lot of sexist, racist, and other discriminatory thoughts and consequent behaviors despite my intentional work to identify and let go of these thoughts and behaviors.
- I am often judgmental including being judgmental about those I experience to be judgmental.
- I have a difficult time defending some of my strongly held stated beliefs and many have more in common at times with those I secretly considered less moral. (Really! Yuk!)
- I like to see myself as more accepting of the aging process than I actually am.
- I have thoughts and desires which are not always consistent with the person I pretend to be.
The bottom line is, of course, that it seems that few, if any, of us humans are entirely satisfied with being who we are. We seem to have a basic, strongly held belief that we are not enough – good enough – wise enough - attractive enough – talented enough. Honestly and acceptance of ourselves is a life long journey. Fortunately, I am no longer shocked about the fact that I can and am still dishonest with myself and, thus, admitting it to myself and others is much easier than it was even a week ago. I know that everyone knows that I am this human who, by definition, is a work in progress.
Fortunately, I am not in a position where being honest is going to cost me a job, reputation or some other form of public humiliation. I am not a politician, CEO of a company or organization, or a person who has built a professional reputation of being more than I am. All of my friends know and accept that they and I are works in progress. There is nothing I am likely to do or say that would come as a shock to them. Occasionally there is that person who I thought accepted me as I am who is “shocked” at my behavior and withdraws from our friendship. There is nothing I can do but accept their decision. Obviously, this was a friendship build on the sand of unrealistic expectations. (This statement does not excuse my behavior or reduce my obligation to make amends when possible.)
Written June 14, 2017
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