How to Be Authentic with People Who Love You but Don’t Understand You – Part 2

Here, in the second part of How to Be Authentic with People Who Love You But Don’t Understand You, I’d like to dive into the first of four things I think you need to stop doing if you really want to be authentic without cutting yourself off from the people you love the most. So, let’s dive in.

Today’s authentic principle is merely this:

Stop Demanding That People Understand You

This one, to me, is absolutely genius in its simplicity and I’d love to take credit for it, but I can’t. I picked it up from a dear friend. We were talking about making peace with our families and she said, “I realized one day that my father didn’t have to understand me to love me, and that changed everything.”

That sentence struck me right between the eyes. It’s funny how a minor adjustment can open up a whole new world. I realized that I’d chained the two concepts together. To be loved, I thought, I had to be understood, so anytime I felt misunderstood, I felt unloved, and I felt hurt, and I felt angry, and I lashed out.

“I realized one day that my father didn’t have to understand me to love me.” That one line enabled me to see how badly I’d been behaving, how completely and hopelessly obsessed I had become with being understood. It was as if every interaction with my family was a battle to be won in the war for understanding. As I sit here writing, I can summon vivid memories of myself preparing for combat, polishing my shield, sharpening my arrows, steeling my will to fight. I would either be victorious or die trying.

But, as is often the case in war, no one was victorious. Skirmishes ensued. Harsh words were hurled. Feelings were injured and hearts were broken. And in the end, I was no closer to my desired goal than I’d been at the outset. A cease fire was nowhere in sight and my hopes for the signing of an understanding accord were dashed.

And It’s One, Two, Three, Four. What the Hell Are We Fighting For?

I began to ask myself, and you might ask this too, what’s so damned fantastic about being understood anyway? After all, can you name a single human being in your life that you completely understand? Aren’t we drawn to people who have a touch of mystery about them? And doesn’t everyone have a touch of mystery? I’ve been married to Carol for half my life now and I wouldn’t dare to think I understand everything about her. Nor do I understand everything about my chidren, or my parents, or my sister, or my friends. People are wondrously complex creatures. That’s what makes them so interesting.

And if you and I can’t possibly understand everything there is to know about the people in our lives, why on earth should we expect them to understand everything about us? Do we even fully understand ourselves? I sure don’t, and it happens to be one of the things I like about me. There’s so much to explore.

So what’s the point of all this fighting? Why do we keep storming into our family’s lives, armed to the teeth, demanding that they surrender? Why not choose this day to give up our unreasonable demands and lay down our weapons?

What You See Once the Smoke Has Cleared

What you’re really doing when you give up your pleas to be understood is freeing yourself to take a real interest in others.

I may not be a religious person, but I can still benefit from the real wisdom contained in the meditations and texts of the world’s faith traditions. After all, each of them was an attempt to understand the world in which we live. And one of my favorites is the prayer of St Francis, especially the following line:

Master, grant that I may never seek so much to be understood as to understand.

Francis had it right. When you stop clamoring for others to understand you, you’re free to invest your energy in better understanding yourself and those around you. And this is a much better, far more fruitful, unbelievably more rewarding way to spend your time. You become a giver instead of a taker.

During all that time I was desperately seeking to be seen, I was failing to see anyone else. I always thought my mother didn’t get me, and it drove me mad. But once I let go of all that, I was able to see how beautiful she really was.

I was visiting her one day and she was totally absorbed in making a scrapbook for my nephew. His mother, my sister Becky, died when he was very young and he was about to be married and start a family of his own. Devoted to my sister’s life, the scrapbook was a memorial of the mother he had missed.

I watched as she selected the photographs and scraps of fabric. I watched as she wrote captions. I listened as she shared where she had found the patterns, what she intended to do with the project, and how excited she was to be presenting it to him on his wedding day. I was standing in the presence of full tilt genius and all I could do is wonder how much of this I had missed during all that time I’d been demanding she understand me. It really didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Stop demanding and start looking. You’ll be amazed at what you find.

Seek Common Ground

No two people are exactly alike, but then no two people are completely different either. My daughter and I are very different in many ways, but we share a love of funny movies and wild ideas. My son and I are very different in many ways, but we share a love of music and basketball. I could write a sentence like this for every person in my life.

I’m sorry, but if you tell me that you and your family have nothing in common, I’ll tell you haven’t been looking hard enough. There’s something you share that can bring you together. Keep your eyes peeled.

One more story about my mother. I used to think she and I had nothing in common, but once I let go of the need to be understood, I began to see who she really was and noticed a few things we actually shared. I’m not much of a crafts person, but once I started drawing I started playing around with calligraphy thanks to Daniel Gregory’s discussion of the art form in his book, Creative License. I realized that my mother, with her love of scrap booking and card making, would really be interested in what I was up to. So I packed up all my calligraphy stuff and paid her a visit. It was one of the most enjoyable times we’ve ever had together.

Find out what you have in common with your family. Then celebrate it.

Develop an Exit Strategy

As lovely as all this may be, I fully understand that sometimes people seem hell bent on changing you. You might be willing to relinquish control, but they’re just not ready to give up the fight. What you need is an exit strategy, or what I like to call a No Drama Policy.

There was a time in my life when a certain member of my family never missed an opportunity to tell me what was wrong with me. My clothes were too big. My hair was too short. My ambitions were too low. My house was too messy. My this was too that. My that was too this. It was exhausting and infuriating.

Then one day I’d had enough, and I enacted my No Drama Policy. Anytime they started in on me, I would calmly explain that I was not going to allow them to talk to me that way and that if they continued, I would leave. And I did.

It didn’t matter if I’d been with them five days, five hours, or five seconds. If they treated me poorly, I hit the exit. If it happened on the phone, I hung up. If it happened in their home, I said goodbye and headed to the car. If it happened in my own home, I excused myself and left the room, the house if I had to.

And, oh, believe me, they DID NOT like this. They probably still don’t, but in time, they stopped doing it. They learned that I wouldn’t put up with it, and I’m the one who taught them. You can teach the people in your life the same thing.

We’re All Crazy Anyway

The last point I’d like to make is that we’re all crazy. He’s crazy. She’s crazy. You’re crazy. I’m crazy, but it’s my kind of crazy and I like it. I assume you enjoy your own personal brand of madness.

Is there really any such thing as normal? We’re all weird, so why not embrace it?

When someone tells you that you’re weird, smile and say, “Yes, and I think it’s wonderful.”

When someone calls you odd, reply, “Yes, and yet I’m oddly happy.”

When someone calls you stupid, agree with them that you are indeed stupid for the things you love.

Or better yet, simply shrug your shoulders and say, “Maybe you’re right. So what?”

When people realize that you really don’t give a flying fig if they understand you or not, they’ll find it less rewarding to tell you how baffling you are.

Please Understand

Being understood is overrated. No one understands anyone completely, so stop asking your family to do that for you. Start taking an interest in yourself and in others; it’s way more enjoyable than banging your head against the wall. Seek common ground and celebrate the things you share, and when people just won’t let the differences go, hit the exit. They’ll learn. Lay down your weapons, turn on your curiosity, and start enjoying your own brand of crazy. It’s the authentic thing to do.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this matter. Share your own experiences and ideas in the comment section below. And I hope you’ll return tomorrow when I discuss the second principle of How to Be Authentic with People Who Love You But Don’t Understand You, which is stop asking people to give you what you won’t give yourself. I’ll see you then.

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Tagged as: Be Authentic