Saturday, February 17, 2018

Tell Me I'm Pretty

Like it or not, humans are social creatures. This isn’t an accident, it’s survival. If you aren’t part of a tribe, your life expectancy drops precipitously. It’s pure evolution; we need others.

And god, that sucks sometimes.

We need to be relatively functioning members of a larger body of society. It’s why we have moral systems, why we can divide labor and specialize, the very essence of history as a moving system. It’s how we exceled beyond subsistence farming. In even the most reductive sense, we are life support systems for genitals that need to mash together to create more life, an impulse ground into us by the mashing gene being successfully propagated by the mad mashing of our forebears. And we need to be social to have any hopes of that singular purpose of replication. Assuming you believe in the evolutionary psychological approach, all of human behavior spins out from that.

We need others to listen to us. We need to be heard, seen, and we need to feel at least partially understood, or we wither.

In short, we need validation. Aside from the very basic needs for continued existence like food, water, shelter, and warmth, validation is probably the most important need that isn’t strictly biological. The first step up Maslow’s hierarchy. We need to feel… something from others. To feel important. Valuable. Like our input is appreciated. Because if it isn’t, we’re useless to our tribe, and if we’re useless, we’re on the outside. And if we’re outside the tribe, well, that’s where we can get picked off by the predators.

Due to our general advancement, our predators aren’t hyenas or wolves anymore. We get chased down by depression. Alienation. Loneliness. Roving packs of personality disorders track our journey from the shadows, waiting for us to fall too far behind the tribe. Without our kin, we fall prey these savage forces.

Often, falling behind starts robbing you of the ability to keep up, a vicious cycle. Read a social psychology textbook; people who are perceived as lonely are often ostracized by others even further. Cruel, yes, but on a corrupt level, understandable. As individuals, we need to make sure we don’t fall out of the pack, and if we dedicate too many of our resources to helping another lost person, we may find ourselves marginalized, too.

You likely know someone that you feel bad for in this way, but you just don’t feel you can help them without hurting yourself. This sucks, but it’s not uncommon. Sometimes these people are too far gone. Sometimes they aren’t. It’s nearly impossible to tell the difference. So they get lost in the woods and the growing darkness. And yeah… maybe we could have done more.

This validation, it can make or break someone’s life. We all need it. We all know we need it.

My question is, if we all know this in our core, that this is a fundamental fact of the human experience, why is it seen as so wrong to openly ask for validation?

I need to feel smart, or desired, or funny, or wise, or fucking something so that I feel like I’m contributing to my chosen body of humanity in the hopes that they will protect me when I fall. And I will fall. We all fall. You need this, too, even if it makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable to admit. It’s the same impulse we have to feel like we’re good at our job so that we don’t get fired, but writ large. We need to feel good at being human, so that we won’t get terminated from the body that sustains us.

It is so critical to our existence and yet so many people feel ashamed to reach out and ask for help with it. I have had to force myself to ask for it from time to time, usually couched in a joke or some long-winded musing (hi there!). To some degree, my fear - which is probably common - is that if I ask for validation, I will be seen as weak. Even worse, I will be outright denied it, confirming my fears that I’m not worthy of the safety of the pack. It’s almost better to worry that I’m not good enough than it is to have confirmation that I’m not.

Is this something we can move past? Is it universal at this point, or is it perhaps a side effect of the rabid American individualism that is slowly isolating and atomizing us? Can I ask you, openly and earnestly, to love me? To tell me you that you care? To tell me I’m worth effort? And how much asking is too much?

Can we learn to offer more of it, unsolicited, so that someone doesn’t need to fall before figuring out if others will care enough to offer a hand up? Can we move past the bullshit notion that openly admitting a dire need is somehow weak?

We fear that weakness because we know in our bones that most people are too busy fending for themselves and fighting off their own battles to care for us. We get stuck in this loop of pretending we’re fine, so that others won’t see us as burdensome. All while we slowly lose the ability to keep up.

Perhaps this is why romantic partnership is so prized. We have a chosen person who, for however long we can convince them we’re worth it, is dedicated to helping us along the path. The school field trip buddy system, except instead of getting lost in the Titanic museum that one time in eighth grade, we’re lost in our own sadness. There are fewer clearly marked exits there.

How do we fight this irresponsible expectation of emotional self-sufficiency?

To change societal expectations, you have to first not be bound by them. Openly ask for validation. Openly give it. Bring people into your pack. Let them know that they are of your tribe and that that means something to you. Life is hard, and we’re all we’ve got. Make it easier on the people walking your path. Aside from bringing skills to the table, one way to do that is to let people clearly know your needs. If you are open, they will feel open, too. Your bond will grow. Your torches will light up the night and the journey through the woods will be safer.

Obviously not everyone will be walking the same path as you. That’s fine. You do have to curate your resources. The entire point of this statement is that you need to care for you and yours, and that includes removing toxicity. Let other tribes pass as they may. Let people go when they jeopardize the health of your cohort, but not by throwing them to the wolves. There are kinder ways to protect yourself, even if those ways are more difficult. Find those ways anyway, because you will be better and stronger for it.

Just fucking walk with love and compassion. We may go faster alone, but we go farther together. 

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