Recently, a friend offered me unsolicited feedback in an area that hit close to my deepest insecurities. It hurt to hear someone who knows me well affirm a truth about me that I find difficult to accept. I wish I could say my reaction was mature and gracious, that I listened humbly, acknowledged my shortcomings, and promised to improve. Instead, I was defensive, offended, and shut down the conversation.
One of my greatest struggles and frustrations is in acknowledging my personal flaws and balancing that with my desire for acceptance, both from myself and others. While I recognize that everyone possesses flaws, I feel a notable level of disdain for my own, especially those of which I am aware. Although they are not criminal in nature, they often feel overwhelming and burdensome.
These are the conversations I have with myself. I introspectively acknowledge why someone’s perception of me or my actions may be difficult to hear. Yet, I find it hard to have those conversations with friends, where I need to open myself up to judgment. To be honest requires vulnerability. Being vulnerable demands honesty.
From a young age, I was taught that honesty was a virtue, elevated by the significant value it held even when it meant facing consequences. Whether it was admitting to breaking a plate or owning up to other mistakes, I learned that honesty was not only respected but sometimes even rewarded. This upbringing instilled in me the belief that honesty, though demanding, is a fundamental quality worth upholding.
Still, somewhere along the way, I learned to lie because it seemed to offer convenience and protection. There were complexities too difficult to explain, family secrets to safeguard, or friends’ vulnerabilities to protect. Over time, this approach seeped into my personal relationships – I shared the parts of me that seemed uncomplicated, concealed my flaws, and deflected when sensitive subjects came up. Gradually, I came to the realization that maintaining complete honesty about myself at all times felt impractical.
I’ve come to realize that my conclusions about honesty weren’t flawed but rather my approach to applying it. While it may not be practical or necessary to be completely honest with everyone all the time, there should be certain individuals with whom I can be authentically honest.
Realizing vulnerability was a challenge for me was an eye-opener, and I made a commitment to doing better. I often found myself prefacing conversations with my best friends with phrases like ‘Please don’t tell anyone’ or ‘I’m very embarrassed about this.’ While I trusted them, the fear of judgment lingered. However, over time, I’ve noticed a shift. I’m less inclined to use these preambles now, and in return, my friends have also opened up more honestly with me. I’ve come to accept and love them for their acknowledged flaws and those they may not yet recognize.
True love entails being known. To be known requires honesty. Without honesty, I cannot fully experience the love and acceptance of those who genuinely care about me. So I must try.
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Side note: I heard a rumour that blogging is back. Now I’m thinking of starting a blog, again. Lol
