Assumptions Make an Ass Of Us
I was trying to communicate to a friend why it bothered me when a guy I recently met avoided topics we disagree on. Instead of having the curiosity to find understanding, common ground, or even dealbreakers, I assumed that he assumed something bad about me.
I’d met the friend of a friend who, like me, has ME/CFS and quickly found myself annoyed with him.
I could specify what he did and didn’t say that irritated me, but couldn’t figure out why it bothered me.
Thus, being curious, I excessively pondered my underlying motivations.
It turns out, I was annoyed by what I can only assume (<—!) were his underlying motivations!
First, let me share some of what was said and unsaid to illustrate. Then we’ll go into the “why” behind the “what.”
I asked him what he was passionate about and he told me, “Politics!”
So I shared my political stance, “I’m a registered [X Party], but my views are actually libertarian. I’m more about policy than party. What about you?”
He danced around the topic without giving me any concrete information and I sensed he didn’t want to “get into it” because, I assume (<—!), he’s not a registered [X Party] constituent, like I am.
I outright asked him, “What party did you vote for?”
He refused to tell me.
I tried guessing, but nope, he did the politician side shuffle, which likely meant he did not vote for the party I did.
Up to this point, he’d been keen to draw attention to our similarities and areas of agreement so this avoidance felt stark.
He was going for the ole’ “Like me, like me” bit. If you’re like me, you’ll like me, which is a good way to start any potential friendship (/relationship).
Except with me.
I’m all about candour, truth, honesty and authenticity, as long as you can be candid about that authenticity!
How someone handles disagreement tells you a lot about them and your compatibility.
I could have asked, “What policies are you most passionate about and why?” But by this point, I sensed defensiveness from him and I was losing energy fast.
Instead, in an effort to help him feel more open, I offered a bridge, “I’ll give the [Ys] credit for yada yada…” focusing on something positive about the party I assume (<—!) he supports.
But people tend to be highly divided by political party (and/or politician) more so than simply policy. It’s about identity and community. Someone is either “in” or they are “out.” Myopic but prevalent thinking.
We’re still tribal after all this time.
There were other areas of conversation he skirted past, as well. Covid came up and I offered my views on vaccination. (Hitting the hot topics, I admit.) Again, he changed the subject. No chance to find out why we believe what we believe. No chance for discovery.
Again, this bothered me.
I stewed over it.
I told some friends about it.
They didn’t get it.
They. Didn’t. Get. It.
One said, “Why did it bother you so much?” Another, “Maybe he didn’t want to draw attention to a potential negative or incompatibility.”
And my response was, “How can I connect with a man who’s hiding himself? It feels dishonest, inauthentic. Weak!”
Ah, aha.
My dad was opinionated and outspoken. You never had to wonder what he was really thinking. Sometimes, perhaps often, he offended people. Usually not on purpose, but because he probably thought, like me (the apple from his tree and of his eye), that it’s OK to have different opinions. My pops set the standard on this front for what I need in a friendship with a man.
Disagreement doesn’t have to equal rejection.
I admit my standards for men being brave are more stringent than for the “weaker sex,” though I wish women would be “stronger” in the area of candour. Unfortunately, directness isn’t most women’s nature and for good reason. But I digress.
Back to the negativity comment. It tweaked something in me. An idea was brewing.
After reading an enewletter from Alpine Clinic, I had another aha moment.
I realized that avoiding talking about differences feels bad (to me), because it often stems from negative assumptions about the person sharing (in this case, me). No curiosity about why the person (me!), believes what they (I!) believe, no attempt at understanding, no attempt to find common ground or even plant the seed (or give the gift) of a well-delivered alternate view. Just an automatic, negative, not-my-tribe-but-I’ll-excuse-your-wrong-think vibe.
That felt like an insult without an opportunity to defend myself.
Note: this is different from having had various discussions that reveal the values behind the person’s opinions and already knowing you’re not on the same page but like each other enough to stay connected. I have close friends who vote differently than I do. Even though I’m passionate about my political views, others’ differing choices don’t bother me. I’ve had time to get to know them and their value systems and none of my friends kick puppies or sacrifice babies (as far as I know). And the ones who’ve stayed my friends must feel the same of me.
That’s why this man’s evasiveness bothered me. He didn’t know me well enough to make accurate, even if negative, assumptions about who I am. Instead of exploring, he assumed. Probably negatively. (I assume. <—!!)
We all do it. It’s human nature to draw quick conclusions. At the same time, it’s not a good way to increase intimacy or true connection.
Curiosity means putting judgement on pause and allowing room to find commonality where it seems less obvious. Or some understanding, or even discovering a true dealbreaker. It’s the latter people are afraid of because they assume, rightly or wrongly, it’s better to keep the peace than to risk rejection.
When we assume, we really do make an ass out of you and me. Ass-u-me.
That’s my rant of the day. I heart you even if you vote differently than I do. (Unless you actively harm the vulnerable, in which case, you should be publicly flogged and fed to hungry alligators.)
What have we re-learned?
When you can feel safe being vulnerable with someone—your real flawed self—and still feel accepted, that is a rare gift.
Homework:
Be brave, share the real you. Lead with curiosity, compassion, and yes, candour. Make it safe for others to do the same with delicacy in the delivery. Delicacy. In. The. Delivery! (<–That was for me.)
p.s. Notice how you don’t actually know what party I vote for or where I stand on vaccines? Don’t worry, I’m just like you. x 😉
