CAN YOU HANDLE UNRESTRAINED HONESTY?
Early in our relationship, I learned not to ask Erica a question that I don’t want an honest answer to.
“Am I putting on weight?”
“Yes, you are definitely getting thick around the middle and filling out in your face.”
As that single tear stained my cheek (kidding), she added, “You're also very sexy.”
She was telling the truth both times. I had gotten heavier and I did still look damn sexy.
She is never mean or malicious, just straightforward. I don’t think she could pull off unrestrained honesty if it didn’t come from a position of compassion. Erica never imposes her views or values on others, but if she is asked a direct question, you can count on her to give you a direct answer. I like it. The end result is unrestrained trust from the people in her life.
I took a group counseling class at The Citadel when I was in grad school. During each class meeting, we would spend the first hour listening to a lecture and the second hour sitting in a circle as an actual therapy group. I was pretty unsure of myself when I was young and felt intimidated when we were in the group sessions. I don’t think I was the only one who felt that way. Each of us wanted to give the impression of being a therapy genius. The resulting group discussions were incredibly stilted. Late in a session, a quiet girl who was probably the youngest student in the class made a comment that shined a light on what was happening.
“You people act like you are full of shit,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
The class went dead silent, then burst into laughter. We all recognized how phony we were being. It was an “Emperor's got no clothes” moment. After that, people started being more authentic in group sessions and the incident became one of my most powerful grad school memories. I admired that girl’s courage. She risked being rejected by the group to speak the truth, something I would have never done at that time in my life. I made it a personal goal to emulate her behavior from then on (but maybe with a little more tact). Speaking the truth can be a heroic act.
I made a deliberate decision in graduate school to speak my truth even when it diverged from what was popular. I was 28 years old. This was one of my better decisions. It did result in being rejected by some folks I had known for a long time, but it also attracted admiration from the kind of people I wanted and needed in my life.
Erica’s unrestrained honesty is just her nature. One of the many things I love about her is that she is always uniquely Erica. My unrestrained honesty was a conscious choice. I was never a dishonest person but I was a people pleaser. As such, I went along with the crowd and tried to comply with what I thought others wanted of me. To a large degree, my efforts were an attempt to win my dad's approval.
At 28, I think I accepted that my square peg nature would never fit in the round hole of popular culture and I had absolutely no control over my father’s subtle disapproval. The stronger my honesty, the closer I came to being who I am. There is great freedom and a type of maturity that comes with drawing an honest bead on yourself and embracing the singular gifts you bring to the world.
One potential advantage to growing older is the chance to release that childish need to fit in, and instead, choose to become a true individual. If you find that, by middle age, the majority of your values and beliefs are still the same as those you grew up with, you may be missy out on an important opportunity. One of the underlying messages in A Guide for Aging Heroes is the importance of avoiding the number one regret of the dying, “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, rather than the life others expected of me.”
Being successful at impeccable honesty requires pretty well-developed EQ, or emot