[11] Even Flawed Fools Have Friends.

An Op-Ed about some of my flaws —  fluid authenticity, managing anger, and constantly assuming — and reflecting on how I can change before I run out of luck.

I’ve always prided myself on being an “open person.” I’ve never really had to “suffer in silence.” When push comes to shove, I like to think that I’m not a liar. I take responsibility for my actions. When facing conflict, I try to compromise or, at least, end things on good terms. 

But I can’t help that I’m not as “open” as I thought myself to be. That the constant reassurance from telling myself “you’re an authentic person” makes it that one little bit easier to lean into inauthenticity. 

How many times have you abstained from sharing something, concealed the truth, or straight-up lied because you were embarrassed to be vulnerable? Are you putting on a facade during your heart-to-hearts because it makes you seem more insightful, considerate, and nuanced? Are the things you tell yourself when rationalizing emotions an accurate representation of how you ACTUALLY feel? Why do you act dumb when someone confronts you about something that you’re not supposed to know? Do you practice what you preach? 

Sure, there’s a little bit of truth in each of those questions. Still, when it comes to those that I care about deeply, I firmly believe that I’m authentic at heart. I listen to their worries wholeheartedly as if they were my own, I’ll sacrifice my desires if they require so, and I try my best to give THEM as much value as they’ve given ME during our companionship because it’s how I express my gratitude for them. 

Then again, the way that I express authenticity is different for each person; hell, even when it comes to the same person, the context and circumstance can drastically change what I say and how I choose to express that authenticity. I don’t think that this fluidity in authenticity makes me LESS authentic, but it certainly makes me wonder what authenticity means to me. 

I feel that the first step in being TRULY authentic is to be honest, EVEN IF that comes at the cost of self-embarrassment. I feel like I struggle with honesty with people who aren’t my go-to confidants (and I care about these semi-strangers because, even though my goals are no longer aligned with external validation as per [5], being praised — “Stan? Yeah, he’s a pretty solid guy” — feels good, no matter WHO it comes from). And so, whether it’s deprecating humor or an uncomfortable confrontation, I think it’s important to compose myself so that I can respond with genuineness and clarity. That way, I’d be able to ensure the most ACCURATE translation of my thoughts and emotions into words (thus preserving as much authenticity as possible). 

On that note, though I might not straight up LIE to people, I don’t know if I’ve been a particularly honest person. 

I’ve always struggled with explaining myself to people. When I was younger, I used to get SO angry over the smallest things. And whenever I let my anger wash over me, I’d get so aggressive that I’d be out of breath by the end of my tantrums — that sheer fucking anger ALWAYS felt justified to me in the moment. 

I look back to this one particular family dinner I had. It was my last day in Korea before I had to fly out back to school. What was SUPPOSED to be a nice farewell meal quickly went to shit. Fueled by the pent-up frustration I harbored while spending time with my sister over break, I ruthlessly picked my sister’s (supposedly) problematic attitude and insufferable tendencies apart. I spilled my fucking heart out and gave her no time to retort. And though I’m sure that my dad didn’t necessarily disagree with ALL of my critiques, he gravely condemned me for engaging in what he called “perhaps the most selfish thing a person can do: to do something because it makes YOU feel good without considering how it makes OTHERS feel.” I had gotten my catharsis, but only at the cost of humiliating my sister and jeopardizing the mood of dinner. And, at the end of the day, the anger didn’t even properly portray my thoughts. 

During my rant, I ended up digging up old shit and spewing it back onto her. I exaggerated things to try to bolster my argument. Was I honestly angry at her? Yeah. But did my anger portray my thoughts honestly? Fuck no. It was only but a filter that fogged up what I REALLY needed to say. 

I think that my poor anger management was a symptom of how emotionally impressionable I am. And though my anger management is NOWHERE as bad as it used to be, I’m still SO easily affected by my mood. Whereas one UPLIFTING thing can change the course of my day, the next UPSETTING thing can change how I treat others. Man, even the music I listen to and the movies I choose to watch affect how I feel. 

At some point in my life, I decided that, instead of cussing people or raising my voice during arguments, I would simply isolate myself whenever I felt an incoming flood of negative emotions. But it’s been brought to my attention (thanks, Ethan) that isolation isn’t really a solution to my anger management. I’m still a ticking time bomb — instead of throwing a tantrum, I’d unexpectedly disregard people. 

And what’s most embarrassing is that I get frustrated when people don’t understand what I’m going through. First off, how the hell are they supposed to know what’s going on when I’m actively shutting them out? Then second, no one has the responsibility to like me, and yet I treat their attempts to understand me with scorn rather than gratitude. And third, I look back at [9], where my dad told me, “Don’t bring conflicts that you have with one person affect other relationships you have” — I simply can’t let my mood and personal struggles seep into how I treat other people. I refuse to spread my unhappiness to those who are trying to help me be happier. 

Look, I’m not saying that you should ignore how you feel. It’s okay to get mad at things, alright? It’s okay to want to be alone, I think. I’m not saying that you need to start sharing EVERYTHING that happens in your life with EVERYONE (in fact, in my case, it’s because of my immense privilege — where I have so many people that I feel comfortable to be fully vulnerable with — that there must come the ability to keep certain things to myself in MY best interest. Choosing NOT to talk about certain things helps prevent me from overthinking and feeding into whatever negative confirmation bias I may have). 

What I’m trying to tell you is that you NEED to let people know how you’re feeling. That’s on YOU. YOU have the responsibility to explain yourself. A simple “yo, I need some space today because [ ] happened” or a “dude, I’m feeling a little pissed over [ ], let’s not hang out right now” NOT ONLY gets the message across but keeps your closest friends from being hurt by YOUR negligence. You need to respect your loved ones enough to spare them your anger, but you also need to grant them the privilege of having the opportunity to understand why you’re choosing to act the way you are. 

Because if you don’t explain yourself, they might start assuming things about you. You know, assuming things about other people — you know, what you do so goddamn often? You say you assume things about people because it’s preparing you for the worst. But, are you really? You’re not only wasting your time being anxious over something you’re not even sure ACTUALLY happened, but you’re not even preparing yourself for anything. 

You start putting labels on people and stereotyping them that you’re practically demonizing your friends — this friend will always bail on me for their girlfriend, that friend’s too frugal, and those friends keep secrets from me. What’s the point? You STARTED assuming things so that you could better prepare yourself for confrontation, as you felt it would ensure that you could maintain your bond. And yet it is your very assumptions that ENSURE a conflict — and when that conflict arrives, assuming will have only helped you KNOW the inevitable earlier, but it won’t teach you HOW to feel after it’s happened. 

I often feel so socially inept — missing subtle cues, being honest with people, not explaining my thought process, assuming what others think of me, engaging in selfish confrontations, or being pretentious. And yet, I’ve somehow made it all work. I’m doing MORE than fine with my relationships. 

At this point in my life, I feel pretty good about myself. I’ve met a lot of my long-standing goals, and so I’m quite fulfilled in myself. And yet, considering how IMPORTANT relationships are to me, I feel that I haven’t put nearly enough time or thought into working on my social tendencies. Sure, I, MYSELF, might feel better about myself, but I’m not sure if OTHERS necessarily feel better about me. 

Realizing that there’s STILL so much growth for me to have, coupled with the fact that I’ll be able to grow in the context of Choate, excites me SO MUCH. I’ll be able to spend another year with people who have helped to define WHO I AM, and I’m going to do my very best to show that gratitude through these lessons I’ve learned.