I’ve been reading a really good book lately called The Authenticity Project. In the book, a question is asked, “What is the one thing that defines you, that makes everything else about you fall into place?” I have thought long and hard about this question and it finally became clear. The one thing about me is that I am deeply afraid of people.
It is interesting because I also want for people in many ways: friendships, romantic relationships, good conversations, and yet I often go hungry because of my underlying fear. I also have spent most of my life studying people and human behavior, in one way or another, and I find people incredibly fascinating. I love observing and getting to know people and yearn to understand them on a soul-level. When I find someone I like, I can easily get attached to them because I find them so enjoyable and if I find them to be emotionally safe places with whom I connect heart to heart, I hold them very close to me. I truly treasure them, knowing how connections like that are a rare breed.
As an introvert, I have always had less quantity of people in my life and more quality in that I have deeper connections with my friends. Given my nature, people require a lot of energy for me because I engage so wholeheartedly in every encounter. This puts limitations as well on how much I can people because it can be exhausting doing it my way. The alternative though is worthless in my opinion, connecting only on a shallow level, making small talk, what’s the point?! It feels like wasting time. Time is my most precious commodity; my only non-renewable resource.
The way I see things, for everything there is a reason. So if I am spending time engaging with another person, there is always a purpose. There is always value in the connection, even if I do not know what it is at the start, and sometimes even at the end, and I presume it was God’s plan, for a reason I trust was valuable though how so I may never know.
The question about what defines me though made me realize that it is more than just being an introvert, that in fact, being an introvert may be a symptom that grew out of my fear more than the cause of my feelings around peopling in the world today. The realization is that it is actually the one thing that defines everything around me in my life.
Fear of people is actually a thousand fears all rolled into one. Most of the fears stem from negative past experiences, but fear can also stem simply from lack of experience. These sub-fears include the fear of being disliked, the fear of being hurt, the fear of being taken advantage of, the fear of embarrassing myself, the fear of hurting someone else, the fear of not knowing what to say, the fear of being awkward, the fear of disappointing others, the fear of being seen as not enough, the fear of losing someone I love, the fear of being abandoned, and so much more.
All these fears feed more fears, like the fear of men, the fear of relationships, the fear of public speaking, and so on, but they all boil down to an underlying fear of people. This is at it’s most basic description a fear of hurting others or being hurt by others; more simply, the fear of pain caused by people. There is a saying “hurt people hurt people,” which I have found to be true. There is also a saying, “love doesn’t hurt, people do.” I have found this to be true as well.
Over the course of my life, I have found myself happier when in roles that force me to people because exposure therapy truly works and when we face our fears with positive outcomes, the fear diminishes and our confidence grows. However, in the darkness of isolation, fear can fester and become crippling in many painful ways. It’s also a vicious cycle because the more I isolate, the more uncomfortable I am when I do people and then the negative outcomes I fear become more real because my own discomfort brings them into fruition.
The most isolated I have ever been was when my husband died and I was left to care for our two babies alone and in good faith, walked away from my career field to be a better and more present mother. Being alone with two infants was extremely isolating, especially because I moved myself to a new area where I knew no one. While I did come to know many very special people there over the next few years, I still felt painfully isolated, lonely and disconnected. I felt like no one could relate to me, nor I to them.
I compared out when I should have identified in, but I did not understand that at the time. My instincts failed me. Either they did not understand because they still had their husband, or because they did not have kids, or because they had other family nearby, or they still had their career, or they had never had a career. I still struggle with this, seeing how different my situation is from others, and feeling like they cannot understand me so the connection is unhelpful. Then I find other young widows with whom I can relate, but that also can seem hard because what we have in common is our shared pain and trauma, and then I identify them by that and our connection runs the risk of being laced with self-indulgent self-pity which only keeps me down in the dumps.
The instinct to trauma bond with other widows was a huge pitfall for me and it did NOT have to be that way, but I had the instinct and habit to make it that way because it was the way I knew to connect; the way I knew to be of service; it was all I really felt I had to offer as a friend to others. I have been through a lot so it was a cheap and readily available method of connection and a way I felt I could earn love and have value to others.
Unfortunately, trauma bonding can be extremely emotionally exhausting and also what you focus on grows so it doesn’t always make for a “happy” lifestyle, but it gave me purpose and for that I have so much gratitude. I am grateful for every painful experience and trauma that has helped me even just feel more useful to others and to this world. The thought came a few days ago that if I cannot be happy, I just want to be useful. Being useful makes it all worthwhile.
We are meant for more in life though and God wants us to be happy, joyous and free. My fear of people has had me in shackles. It has distorted my lens through which I view life and it has distorted my experiences. Back to the words in the original question, it is the defining feature that makes everything else about me fall into place. Why have I moved 20 times in the last 20 years?! Why have I not found any healthy romantic relationships in the last ten years?! Why have I been codependent in some relationships?! Why have I been extremely independent?! Why do so few people really know me?! Why is it SO hard for me to ask for and accept help?! Why do I not want to live with anyone?! Why do I feel most comfortable alone?! Why have I turned to alcohol or sugar in one way or another as a means of connecting with others?! Why is it SO much easier to stay to myself than anything else?! Why is it SO hard for me to set up and hold healthy boundaries in relationships?! Why do I have both anxious and avoidant attachment patterns?!
I remember reading somewhere that ultimately, we humans do absolutely everything we do from the basis of either love or fear. It all boils down to those two things. This makes a lot of sense because it explains the dichotomy that has laced my life over the years; you could say mixed messages in relationship terminology. I try desperately to date to find love again, to find the man to love on and be loved by, and yet, success eludes me, and when it seems to come close, I push it away.
In friendships, it is not much different. I recognized at many points in my life that I am deeply lonely, and yet, I isolate more than anything else. I move and then the excuse is starting over, yet again. Starting over is a very convenient way to avoid getting too close to anyone as well as a very acceptable excuse for not having anyone. At this point, another sub-fear is having a relationship at all because I have been alone so long that I fear I don’t even know how to have a relationship with another person, romantic or platonic, especially a healthy one.
I remember having that same fear for YEARS about romantic relationships. I was alone so long that I was very seriously afraid that I forgot how to kiss a man. Ugh. That’s not sexy. Now when I meet a woman widowed more recently than myself, if the topic of dating comes up, I would suggest dating again sooner rather than later, just knowing all the discomfort and isolation caused by my waiting so long to date again. It is absolutely true that the less we do anything we are afraid of, the more pronounced the fear will be. The more pronounced the fear, the less we are able to overcome the fear enough to do the thing. I really think this is true of anything we fear.
Despite my fear of people, a lifelong defining feature, I was an outstanding Special Agent for many years. I was successful in all my jobs really, but particularly empowering was being a federal investigator because the nature of my job put me in contact with new people from all walks of life every day and that exposure diminished my fear and grew my confidence in spades. Walking away from that career into full-time grief-stricken solo motherhood was probably my worst mistake. I did not know how much I needed that job until it was long gone.
I have been working on my personal development in a whole variety of ways in the last ten years since my husband died, but the most focused, deep, and intrinsic manner in the last six months. Self-examination has been an arduous and painful process, dredging up emotional pain, inferiority, character defects and faults, but the awareness I have now is bar none. As Annie Grace says, “all change happens on the other side of awareness.” This journey of self-examination is deeper than the ocean; deeper than any particular fear, grief, substance, behavior, or emotion; it is healing from the inside out.
With a spiritual plan of action, prayer, meditation, support from like-minded souls and fortitude, I trudge forward one step at a time endeavoring to fight my fears, resist my instincts, correct my thinking, seek God’s will for my life, and find emotional balance and contentment: an unshakable foundation for living. I could Forget Everything and Run, but I really would much rather Face Everything and Rise. Fear be damned. Life is for living. When in doubt, just keep going. No feeling is final.
Never forget, “doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.”
