Someone told me the other day that they missed me outreaching them as much as I used to. They said that the frequency with which I reached out, and my confidence in doing so, made them feel loved in a way that they hadn’t much in their life thus far. They were sharing that they felt as if I had pulled back to test them in some fashion, their friendship, their loyalty.
I wasn’t wholly offended by the discussion, and even the suggestion, because that sentiment seems to be a common pattern in humans’ socialization. What I mean is that there is a good deal of game playing when it comes to human interaction. I am sure that the games are not always intentional, but I am equally certain that they often produce a similar result.
I don’t want to speculate too much about others (though I certainly have enough material based on the way friends and acquaintances have confided in me over the years), so I’ll speak about my own, very personal experience.
When I’ve played games with people, testing them using a variety of approaches, it was always to get to a pre-considered result, one that I had in theory prepared for prior to embarking. You know what I mean, right? When you think to yourself: “I’m not going to call and then I’m going to see how long it takes them to call, and based on that length of time, I’ll have all of the information I need to determine the future of this relationship.”
I learned, later than I care to admit, that this method of managing relationships is completely unproductive. The biggest reason for its lack of effectiveness is that people will often act out of character when they feel as though they are being tested in any fashion, one way or the other. That is to say that they will be more attentive or less, but they will often not just ‘be themselves,’ and further, you already know their true selves, right? I know, that’s the tough part to swallow: you already know everything you need to know before you embark on your misguided adventure. You have just convinced yourself of something altogether different because of your bad experiences or baseline insecurities or both.
I’m loathe to draw this comparison, but I think it’s a good one- when you go searching through your partner’s email or phone to confirm infidelity, it’s typically because you already have very reasonable suspicions (yes, I’m aware that there are many other considerations here, but generally speaking…). You already have all of the information that you need in front of you but you are scared to act on it. You tell yourself that you need more. You need proof. You need certainty.
And then, what happens if we don’t get the certainty that we need? What happens if all of a sudden, we have evidence to the contrary? Do we neglect our instincts? Do we forget the reasons we were drawn to this [pointless] exercise? Or what if we do get the information that we think we need, and then decide not to do anything about it? Does it send the wrong message to that person? Does it create an air of self-sabotage and defeat?
It’s hard to resist sometimes, this need to be absolutely sure. It’s tricky to just take the information in front of us and make a decision that we think is good for us, without feeling like we’ve done everything in our power to eliminate any doubt that exists in the furthest corners of our brain. We need a second opinion. Reassurance. Back-up.
It makes sense to me. I understand it from a purely human standpoint. But also, I understand that the “test” is not a useful exercise for anyone. Outside of what I’ve already explored- which is the potential for a false outcome, is the issue of the self-doubt that it cultivates. Sounds counterintuitive, I know, but bear with me. When we tell ourselves that we need to super duper verify what we ultimately know to be true in our heart of hearts, we reinforce the self-characterization as an unreliable main character in our own story. Every time we decide to look outside our own instinct and intuition to ask someone else to legitimize our feelings, we lose a little confidence in the inner framework that we organically possess that is entirely designed to protect us from the kind of harm we are trying to unpack.
Listen, sometimes we need a different perspective to understand something fully. There are times in life when securing another point of view is absolutely critical, because we are too close, too emotional, and there’s too much at stake. But in those circumstances, I still think it’s valuable to assess, analyze, and formulate a personal opinion before bouncing the notion off a trusted someone.
And still, an earnest conversation to explore one’s thoughts and feelings in a safe space is different than endlessly questioning oneself. It’s different than trying to trick someone into admitting a thing that is already known.
I am sure it sounds insane to reject an exercise that so many people engage in, but I’m suggesting it anyway. I’m suggesting it because I’ve been there. I’ve done it. It’s never served me. It was easy to take it with a grain of salt when I am accused of testing someone, because I know I’m not. Because I know people act how they are going to act and do what they are going to do, and if we pay attention, all the information we need is in that: the acting and the doing. It’s not about intellectualizing or over analyzing. It’s about paying attention. It’s about trusting yourself. It’s about seeing things as they are instead of as we would want them to be.
You can make decisions without testing your theories. You can trust your gut. You can let go even if it’s scary. You can change. Anytime. All the time. Always.
Always.
x
L.
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