Dear Diary, Reciprocity?  Yes – but of what?

Dear Diary, Reciprocity?  Yes – but of what?

Dear Diary, I’ve lacked reciprocity in my relationships for ages.  I’ve tried to correct this through gentle but direct confrontation, but ultimately I’ve had to let people go because I’d rather that than continuously have one-way streets.  I’ve asked others to take the same kind of initiative in my life that I take in theirs.  I’ve finally figured out what I was asking for – a reward for vulnerability.  I opened myself up generally to be met with silence, indifference, or dismissal.   Over time, the pain from being vulnerable without reward led to the development of unwanted walls made of scar tissue.  I actively try to tear down these walls, which takes resources away from presenting my best self to others.

Another consequence of this pattern is fighting expectations.  Proverbially, I’ve led many horses to drink when all I wanted was for them to be interested enough in me to do so of their own accord.  I live in a world wherein I expect not to be a person of value.  I’ve lived in this world long enough to have partially given up.  I don’t know where to look for those who reward vulnerability like I do.  I am keenly aware words have meaning, and as such, I try to balance my feedback with positivity wherever possible.  It takes a comparatively long time to build something up but only a moment to tear something down, and I try to contribute to building.  Underworld has a song lyric I adore: “What don’t lift you drags you down – Keep away from the dark side.”

Being a person of value isn’t just being mindful of how we give feedback; it’s taking an interest in someone just because they are in your life.  Who are they?  What are they interested in?  How can you make that blossom?  Taking an interest in someone’s interests is powerful.  No one is saying we need to dedicate our lives to such but ask a couple of questions, share in their creations for a few moments, and make a memory with them.  I, for example, would be a different person if people outside the competitions were interested in my work – if even for a couple moments here and there.  Now not only have I lost most of my creative voice, I don’t attempt to share my limited works with hardly anybody.  The cost-benefit analysis of vulnerability isn’t worth it, and that’s unfortunate.

The good news, at least in my case, is the damage isn’t permanent.  I haven’t planted my flag in the timeline and decided not to grow any more (a reference to previous pieces).  I don’t sit on my front porch in a rocking chair with a shotgun, just waiting for trouble to arrive – neither literally nor figuratively.  I am a lonely aging person who has diminished faith that positive change will come, but it’s hard to see greener pastures through walls made of scar tissue.  I haven’t lost my ability to be vulnerable; I am doing so right now in this piece.  I am developing a greater understanding of my identity and needs.

I have been looking to be rewarded for my vulnerability.  What does that reward look like?  I’m sure there are as many answers to that question as there are people who could answer it, given they take the time and effort to do so.  I can look at myself in the mirror and know I do my part.  I understand emotional availability isn’t everyone’s strength.  I see the willingness to be vulnerable means we are placing a degree of trust in others, and some people need to heal before they can trust again.  None of this is easy or straightforward.  Every interaction is a different dynamic, and we must try our best every time.  We won’t succeed every time, and forgiveness is another skill altogether.  Ultimately, I haven’t written off all hope yet, and hope is the mechanism for meaning.  I still want to put meaning into people.  People are worth it; deep down, I know they are.