At the risk of increasing what appears to be my very poor perception of the American people, I just have to say. We are a country of complete liars.
Seriously.
When is the last time you remember going a whole day without at least withholding some pertinent information or skewing the facts of some-such-thing in your own favor?
My mother recently read a book about the fact that we don’t often draw our own boundaries firmly enough, and then we are all shocked when people invade our space in some way. (I think it’s this book.) So she has been making a conscious effort lately to clearly state her boundaries (and I’m talking in no uncertain terms).
As I’m explaining to her that I am going to bed early tonight because my beloved boyfriend received a phone call at 3:30 this morning from some drunken female who shouted “Heeeeey Baby!” almost directly in my eardrum, and as a result I slept no more than four hours last night… she totally interrupts me and lets me know that my boundaries have been violated and I should not stand for it.
Now, I don’t feel particularly violated or angry at my boyfriend who can’t directly control who calls his cell phone and when, but my mother says I’m not establishing my boundaries because I’m afraid it will make me look like the jealous girlfriend.
I start to form a token protest, and then stop and actually think about this one for a minute. I think she is right in the fact that there is a pervasive sense of “politeness” in our society, even among two people who see each other naked on a regular basis. I’m not jealous, and because I don’t want to be seen that way I don’t say things like, “If people are going to be making middle of the night calls you need to shut your phone off or sleep somewhere else.” That’s not jealous. That’s a reasonable request. Especially for people rapidly approaching 30 on a work night.
I had to admit to my Mom that she was right. If anyone asked if I had lied to my significant other lately I would say absolutely not, and in fact may even have praised myself for being such a kind and understanding girlfriend for not making a big scene about drunken females calling at the wee hours of the morning. But in a sense, this was lying. pretending that something was okay with me when it wasn’t.
It reminded me of the Esquire article “I Think You’re Fat” by A.J. Andrews, regarding the Radical Honesty movement in America.
Andrews perspective is that there are both good things about living a life of complete honesty…
I start in again at dinner with my friend Brian. We are talking about his new living situation, and I decide to tell him the truth.
“You know, I forget your fiancée’s name.”
This is highly unacceptable — they’ve been together for years; I’ve met her several times.
“It’s Jenny.”
In his book, Blanton talks about the thrill of total candor, the Space Mountain-worthy adrenaline rush you get from breaking taboos. As he writes, “You learn to like the excitement of mild, ongoing risk taking.” This I felt.
Luckily, Brian doesn’t seem too pissed. So I decide to push my luck. “Yes, that’s right. Jenny. Well, I resent you for not inviting me to you and Jenny’s wedding. I don’t want to go, since it’s in Vermont, but I wanted to be invited.”
“Well, I resent you for not being invited to your wedding.”
“You weren’t invited? Really? I thought I had.”
“Nope.”
“Sorry, man. That was a mistake.”
A breakthrough! We are communicating! Blanton is right. Brian and I crushed some eggshells. We are not stoic, emotionless men. I’m enjoying this. A little bracing honesty can be a mood booster.
And then maybe some not so good things…
My wife tells me a story about switching operating systems on her computer. In the middle, I have to go help our son with something, then forget to come back.
“Do you want to hear the end of the story or not?” she asks.
“Well…is there a payoff?”
“Fuck you.”
It would have been a lot easier to have kept my mouth closed and listened to her. It reminds me of an issue I raised with Blanton: Why make waves? “Ninety percent of the time I love my wife,” I told him. “And 10 percent of the time I hate her. Why should I hurt her feelings that 10 percent of the time? Why not just wait until that phase passes and I return to the true feeling, which is that I love her?”
Blanton’s response: “Because you’re a manipulative, lying son of a bitch.”
Okay, he’s right. It’s manipulative and patronizing to shut up and listen. But it’s exhausting not to.
My point is simply there is truth in this… I think we are overly polite as a society. Overly PC. Overly concerned about not hurting another persons feelings, so we allow our boundaries to be invaded. And we’re lying. I wonder how many things we do on a daily basis that no one wants to participate in, but everyone does because they feel they should?
I realized that this is the exact reason I hate salesmen. Because the niceness and the joking and the feigned interest in my life is a lie. It’s not real, it’s a sales tactic. And like Andrews says, it’s manipulative and patronizing. And even though I feel manipulated and patronized I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is “Cut the shit, man. You being nice to me isn’t going to contribute to my purchasing something in any way other than I might not do it, just to get the hell away from you.” Why? Because it wouldn’t be polite. And while I’m not the epitome of Miss Manners as it is, I don’t make a point to be deliberately hurtful either.
The thing is… I think we would be more efficient and less hurtful if we stopped, not only with the major earth-shattering lies, but with the little insignificant untruths we saddle each other with every day.
We’re not perfect, and as humans I don’t think we expect perfection from each other. I don’t think it would be unheard of to expect a little more reality from each other though.