Why Are You Sitting at Home on the Floor?
Sep. 21st, 2023 10:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jakebeMet up with a friend for drinks last night after he survived a work off-site presentation he only knew he had to do last week. It was a fun time! He talked a lot about what he was working on, the internal politics of his workplace, and generally how persuasion works in the executive suite of a company. It was illuminating! I had no idea how...ingrained this friend was in the company, but it turns out he is significantly involved in how the core product works. It changed the way I see him; mostly, I'm impressed by his broad knowledge and expertise, and I get why he is the way he is a little better.
But it was also the first time I was able to "clearly" see his ego. Granted, it's not unearned! He's done amazing things and is...enormously successful. I feel pretty lucky to count him as a close friend. But he also has a "smartest person in the room" vibe and doesn't take well to debates, let's say. I think there's something about them that brings out this predatory "take down threats" instinct and it almost immediately changes the vibe of the conversation. Since R. tends to come across as fairly combative a lot of the time, I see now why the combination just doesn't mix.
I'm still unsure what to do about that. R. was planning to stay home last night because of the dustup earlier this summer. He's sure that this friend just doesn't like him and that's unlikely to change. I'm hoping that both of them will soften their hard edges enough to come to an understanding but that would take significant work on both their parts. Sometimes, growth is just easier without that kind of pressure.
It was a struggle for me not to push R. too hard on coming along. While the worst of the dust-up is over, I think the relationship between them is irreparable. Even if they do find their way to genuine friendship again, it won't be the same. It's hard for me to sit with that and let it be, so when R. does his best to be clear-eyed and reasonable about it my instinct is to keep pushing to make everything magically right again. Sometimes, that just doesn't happen.
I've been thinking a lot about attachment theory as a way to work with my personal issues. I'm not sure how settled the science is, or if it could ever BE settled with something like this, but the idea is that we form our basic methods of relating to other people before we're two years old, and a lot depends on our interactions with our caregivers. If Mom is available and loving, attends to their baby's needs, and is reasonably responsive, it's likely that the baby will develop a secure attachment. Otherwise, depending on the environment, you could develop anxious, fearful-avoidant, or dismissive-avoidant attachment.
The four attachment styles are often displayed on a graph where one axis is "self-regard" and the other is "regard for others". If you have a positive self-image and think people are generally good, that's secure attachment. Good self-image but negative view of others? Dismissive-avoidant. Bad self-image, negative view of others? Fearful-avoidant. Bad self-image, but good view of others? Anxious attachment.
I think I'm squarely in the fearful-avoidant camp; a lot of the behaviors described for that attachment style are ones I identify with. This tags up with a few realizations from the last acid trip I did (with above friend, come to think of it) where I "rediscovered" my inner child and the way I viewed myself as a kid. I always thought there was something inherently wrong with me and that most people thought I was weird, "gay", and unloveable. I didn't have any "safe" relationships growing up, so I only felt truly safe when I was alone. That feeling, that being vulnerable with someone else is a surefire way to end a relationship, has never really left. I *don't* trust people to treat me kindly. I expect other people to lose interest in me and eventually leave. And even though when I check in with myself I'm...content with who I am, I also realize that there are so many reasons someone would choose not to be close to me and while that makes me sad I accept that.
Deep down I still feel like a little inner-city gremlin who should be seen and not heard. The best I can do in life is develop a rich, fun inner world that leaves me free to explore the things that interest me while doing my best to just...be out of the way of everyone else. Give me a corner and a few things and I'll be fine on my own.
I think that's why I default to secrecy about my inner-most feelings, thoughts, activities. I expect that someone "pries" into my business in order to hurt me -- find out secrets, make me feel guilty and ashamed, or tell me to stop doing it. I expect judgement, because if I'm enjoying it it must be bad or dirty in some way.
Over time, I think I've trained myself to abandon the things I love because they're not worth pursuing. And maybe I've set up this false choice in my head where I can either choose to be myself or choose to be someone who gets to have friends. Subconsciously, but still...toxic shame is a bitch.
But it was also the first time I was able to "clearly" see his ego. Granted, it's not unearned! He's done amazing things and is...enormously successful. I feel pretty lucky to count him as a close friend. But he also has a "smartest person in the room" vibe and doesn't take well to debates, let's say. I think there's something about them that brings out this predatory "take down threats" instinct and it almost immediately changes the vibe of the conversation. Since R. tends to come across as fairly combative a lot of the time, I see now why the combination just doesn't mix.
I'm still unsure what to do about that. R. was planning to stay home last night because of the dustup earlier this summer. He's sure that this friend just doesn't like him and that's unlikely to change. I'm hoping that both of them will soften their hard edges enough to come to an understanding but that would take significant work on both their parts. Sometimes, growth is just easier without that kind of pressure.
It was a struggle for me not to push R. too hard on coming along. While the worst of the dust-up is over, I think the relationship between them is irreparable. Even if they do find their way to genuine friendship again, it won't be the same. It's hard for me to sit with that and let it be, so when R. does his best to be clear-eyed and reasonable about it my instinct is to keep pushing to make everything magically right again. Sometimes, that just doesn't happen.
I've been thinking a lot about attachment theory as a way to work with my personal issues. I'm not sure how settled the science is, or if it could ever BE settled with something like this, but the idea is that we form our basic methods of relating to other people before we're two years old, and a lot depends on our interactions with our caregivers. If Mom is available and loving, attends to their baby's needs, and is reasonably responsive, it's likely that the baby will develop a secure attachment. Otherwise, depending on the environment, you could develop anxious, fearful-avoidant, or dismissive-avoidant attachment.
The four attachment styles are often displayed on a graph where one axis is "self-regard" and the other is "regard for others". If you have a positive self-image and think people are generally good, that's secure attachment. Good self-image but negative view of others? Dismissive-avoidant. Bad self-image, negative view of others? Fearful-avoidant. Bad self-image, but good view of others? Anxious attachment.
I think I'm squarely in the fearful-avoidant camp; a lot of the behaviors described for that attachment style are ones I identify with. This tags up with a few realizations from the last acid trip I did (with above friend, come to think of it) where I "rediscovered" my inner child and the way I viewed myself as a kid. I always thought there was something inherently wrong with me and that most people thought I was weird, "gay", and unloveable. I didn't have any "safe" relationships growing up, so I only felt truly safe when I was alone. That feeling, that being vulnerable with someone else is a surefire way to end a relationship, has never really left. I *don't* trust people to treat me kindly. I expect other people to lose interest in me and eventually leave. And even though when I check in with myself I'm...content with who I am, I also realize that there are so many reasons someone would choose not to be close to me and while that makes me sad I accept that.
Deep down I still feel like a little inner-city gremlin who should be seen and not heard. The best I can do in life is develop a rich, fun inner world that leaves me free to explore the things that interest me while doing my best to just...be out of the way of everyone else. Give me a corner and a few things and I'll be fine on my own.
I think that's why I default to secrecy about my inner-most feelings, thoughts, activities. I expect that someone "pries" into my business in order to hurt me -- find out secrets, make me feel guilty and ashamed, or tell me to stop doing it. I expect judgement, because if I'm enjoying it it must be bad or dirty in some way.
Over time, I think I've trained myself to abandon the things I love because they're not worth pursuing. And maybe I've set up this false choice in my head where I can either choose to be myself or choose to be someone who gets to have friends. Subconsciously, but still...toxic shame is a bitch.
