I took my son to the local high school football game tonight. I had a great time with him. It was fun to see him react to everything that was going on, to answer his questions, and to just spend some time with him without his sister making things crazy. It's nice to have a new association with a high school football game.
Twenty years ago, I was the one out on the field. Rather than basking in warm feelings about those good old days, I couldn't help but focus on how messed I was in high school (well, my whole youth really). Those Friday nights held way too much significance and importance to my teenage life. Being out on the field rather than up in the stands defined so much of who I was. Well, it was really more about what I was not than what I was. Being a football player made me feel important. I was too scared to really explore life in high school. Football gave me something to hide behind. I never had to assert my identity in the social morass of a high school hallway. I let my status as a member of the football team do that for me. I worked so hard at keeping myself separate and distinct. I never sought to find something in common with other kids and build relationships up from that. I found ways to draw distinctions between me and everybody else. All alone in my fragile little world, I never had to open up or show anybody anything about myself. I wouldn't be opened to negative judgments, and rejections, by people who might like to be my friend.
Not that there was really all that much to me other than football, grades, and the desire to get into a fancy school (yet another way that I could distinguish myself from everybody else). I don't really know what the 17 year old version of me would think of what he's become. I never really thought about my life much past college. I didn't have a vision of who I wanted to be or what I wanted to achieve once I started my professional life. Goals and aspirations suggest a preference. You have to have an opinion and make a choice if you're going to have a real aspiration. I didn't make choices in high school. I just did what was expected of me. I was really nothing more than the reflection of what I thought others wanted to see.
My life was controlled by fear. But what was I afraid of? I was afraid that people would think my preferences, my choices, what I wanted, liked and desired, were wrong. I stuck to the safe, status quo stuff that didn't require any effort or risk of judgement. I had so little faith and confidence in my wants that I never asserted them for fear of being found deficient. I never pursued a girlfriend because I couldn't let a girl know that I liked her. Expressing a desire for a relationship with somebody was fraught with too much risk. I couldn't handle the potential for rejection. I had so little confidence and self-assurance that I relied on external approval to feel good about being me. Disapproval of any kind was not acceptable.
I keep writing this stuff in the past tense, like I'm well beyond these things. In some ways I am, but in many ways these fears still have a powerful hold on me. Look at the title I've given this blog. I'm still trying to do things that make me feel distinct from other people. My relationship struggles have their roots in my inability to share my wants, needs, and desires with the one person in this world who I know loves me without condition. It's hard for your wife to feel wanted when you've spent your whole life perfecting the art of keeping other people in the dark about what you want. I experienced my old fears while doing some consumer testing at work this week. This is the first time I've ever done one of these things. I was sitting there, recording what I thought about a prototype, and I was afraid that the the person running the test would think my preferences were wrong. I was afraid that preferring A over B was wrong and that other person would castigate me for that preference. I immediately recognized that those thoughts were absolutely crazy, but they were still so strong that I had to tell myself that I was not being judged. Picking out a ring for my wife on our anniversary was very challenging because I had to go in and express a desire for something and make a decision in front of another person.
Twenty years these things have been controlling me. I feel like I'm getting some kind of control, finally, but I still have a long way to go...
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