aware.

“Does heartache negate the responsibility of self awareness?”

I asked this question on my Instagram a couple weeks ago, and was pleasantly surprised by the amount of responses I got. It sparked some interesting conversations in my DM and is ultimately what led me to launch this writing venture. I felt the need to specify that my question wasn’t a passive aggressive statement directed towards anyone in particular because the thing that got my wheels turning about this subject was entirely unrelated to my personal life.

Jesse and I are mildly obsessed with a show on Netflix called “Terrace House,” which is essentially the Japanese version of the Real World. In addition to watching the six Japanese adults interact with each other, there is also a panel of commentators who watch and discuss the show amongst themselves. The subtlety and complexity of Japanese social culture is fascinating and often keeps us sucked in for hours. One of the unique things about this show is that the episodes are aired as they are still living in the house, and the cast has the option to watch them along with the rest of the world. In one of the latest episodes, a gal name Yui was faced with a harsh reality: The way she behaved outwardly did not necessarily reflect how she felt on the inside. She often spoke to her housemates in a condescending or smug way, and had a habit of making unsavory faces while people spoke to her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched herself on the screen, and her conclusion by the end was “I wouldn’t want to be friends with that girl.”

Devastating, right?

Her housemates were quick to explain to her that although what she just saw of herself was indeed their first impression of her, once they got to know her it was clear that she was a good-hearted person and had pure intentions - just poor execution. As I watched her watch herself, AND watched her watch a panel of strangers discuss her behavior, I couldn’t help but think what a valuable and life-changing experience that had the potential to be. To be a fly on the wall of your own life isn’t exactly a normal human experience. I thought about how she might have gone her entire life without truly understanding how her body language came across to other people, or how stark the contrast was between her true feelings and her behavior.

That incident led me down a rabbit trail of ponderings, where I ultimately arrived at my question/s. Are we responsible for understanding how our behavior is perceived by others? If so, do we get a free pass when our minds are clouded with heartache? At what point (if ever) do we let someone know how their behavior is affecting those around them?

For clarity’s sake, I wish I could say we all arrived at a general consensus, but I remain with as many unclear answers as I had before I asked. When presented as a simple yes or no question, “Does heartache negate the responsibility of self awareness?” the response was about 25/75, respectively. But nearly everyone who answered “yes” followed up with a DM to explain their answer. Bottom line: It’s complicated as hell, and yes-or-no doesn’t quite cover it. Many of you agreed that we should give grace to those who hurt others with their behavior, simply because we’re all in this mess of humanity together and no one’s record is blameless. Most agreed that there is a point where the mistreated have a right to set boundaries in order to protect themselves, and the mistreat-ers should be held accountable for their actions. I’ve put off writing about this because I have yet to form clear thoughts about any of it, but I decided writing it out might lead to a better understanding. Here’s where I’m currently at:

Are we responsible for understanding how our behavior is perceived by others?
The short answer is yes, we are all responsible for managing our behavior and being aware of how it might be affecting those around us. Whether we choose to behave differently because of it is a different issue.

Do we get a free pass when our minds are clouded with heartache?
Like I mentioned before, the responses to this were all over the board. One person pointed out that, when under severe emotional trauma, our brains don’t function like they would normally. AKA, one can’t be expected to behave appropriately when their wiring is on the fritz. While I think this is probably true, where I get stuck is regarding chronic issues vs. extreme trauma, like my girl Yui. Maybe her mom was hyper-critical of her growing up and now she projects that onto others. Or maybe she’s insecure because she was bullied so she has a wall up to protect herself. I think everyone can agree that there’s a pass offered to those who are in the midst of terrible circumstances, but what about the everyday brokenness that presents itself in the form of personality flaws? Do we let Yui go about her business, crinkling her nose at us disapprovingly? Or do we provide her with the fly-on-the-wall perspective of herself that could change her life? Which brings me to the next question…

At what point (if ever) do we let someone know how their behavior is affecting those around them?
As an empathetic, introverted middle-child, I feel particularly adept at understanding where people are coming from and using that to resolve conflict. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been the middle-woman in a situation where I felt like I could fix the whole thing single-handedly by just explaining to each party how they’re making the other feel. The trouble with this is that the effectiveness is heavily dependent on many complicated factors: Your relationship to the person, their state of mind, the details of the situation, etc., etc., ETC. Even more complicated is confronting someone about behavior that could be considered a component of their very personalities. Extreme stubbornness, flakiness, fear of commitment, abrasiveness, the list goes on. We’re talking about something far more layered and complex than a simple “When you yell, it makes her sad.” It’s more like “Your tendency to disregard her feelings, no doubt influenced by your abuse-riddled childhood, consistently crushes her spirit and makes her feel small while giving you the illusion of power.” That’s not exactly something you want to hear from Joe Schmoe at the bar after a long day of work.

One of you pointed out that people are often quick to inform others of their shortcomings, but are rarely willing to jump into the trenches with them to help sort it out. This idea struck a chord within me as I reflected back on a time in my life where most had parted ways with me, exhausted from trying to help while their advice went in one of my ears and out the other. I could hardly blame the ones who left, but it was the ones who stayed who ultimately hoisted me up and out. Even though I knew they held their tongues on a daily basis, their silent presence next to me - in my trench - spoke VOLUMES more than words ever could. And at the end of it all, I came out by my own volition.

So where does LOVE come in to play?
Even though I don’t have a clear, concise answer to these questions, I have to assume that somewhere within the complexities, love is ultimately the answer. Sometimes love means letting someone’s hurtful actions roll off your back, giving them grace and the opportunity to do better next time. Sometimes love means caring about them from afar, through prayer or good vibes or whatever your method of well-wishing might be. Sometimes love means doing what you can to improve their situation and hoping they take advantage of the help. And even if we do find ourselves in a situation where all the factors support confronting someone with their behavioral issues, it should be approached and handled with the utmost care and love.

Here’s the thing, though: Loving responses to unloving behavior is hard. Like….really, really hard. Maybe even one of the hardest things ever. And it can be extremely difficult to decide which method of love is the most appropriate. And while I don’t believe there is a limit to the love we should extend to others, there is a point where it’s not beneficial to either party to remain in an unloving situation. I absolutely do not believe that love requires us to put up with abusive behavior, even if it is coming from a painful place. But the challenge is knowing when it’s best to step away and when it’s time to lean in and deliver that tough love that we so often muck up.

At the end of the day all of us are in this together, and we undeniably need each other to make it through. Some of us are well-equipped to deal with hardships and others struggle enough that their pain seeps out and negatively affects those around them…and there are times when the former need to support the latter, even though it might not seem fair. My ultimate conclusion is that there are rarely black and white answers to big questions like these, but as long as our responses/decisions/behaviors are guided by and rooted in love, I think we can end up on the other side as better humans. Together.

Love Always,

Sarah

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What are your thoughts? Do you agree/disagree? Feel free to continue the conversation below!