Just to Know and be Known in Return

We all want desperately to be known.  We want to be understood and appreciated because people fully know who we are.  They see our quirks and foibles and love us anyway.  They rightly discern our problem areas and are able to tactfully address them with us.  This is the point in relationships that we are all striving for and can be continually disappointed when we can’t achieve it.

I have felt the sting of frustration when it seems somebody hasn’t understood me. When a friend has taken something I said out of context and used it to hurt me or to nurse their own hurts. When my husband finishes my sentences and it becomes clear we were not on the same page. When I confront a friend about a conflict only to find out I had it all wrong. It’s hurtful when we realize somebody doesn’t “know” us or we didn’t know them as well as we thought we did.

For a long time I have run from being known. I have taken comfort in being mysterious or vague. I have deflected with humor. I have carefully crafted an image of me that looked much different from the woman inside. The pain of being misunderstood felt so great, but I began to prefer it to the pain of being known and rejected.

All photos by Rebecca Tredway Photography

I think my story is common. I once was in a relationship where I resisted my urge to self-protect and instead chose vulnerablity. I let down my guard because I felt loved and valued. And then it went wrong. The pain of that rejection was so great that sometimes it still haunts me. I remember feeling like if this person knew me and didn’t want me, then I didn’t want me either. I wanted to be somebody else who people would like and who wouldn’t ever be hurt again. I created a wall around myself to keep other people out and to keep the real me hidden enough that I couldn’t be damaged. But the damage done by hiding away from love was a high price to pay.

Some of us have felt rejection in dating relationships, some from spouses, some from close friends, and some from our own parents. Whoever it was, they taught us that we were safer when we were hiding. And they were right- we were safer from rejection, but a life where nobody really knows us hardly feels like life at all.

I have learned to take the risks required of those who are known. I have become part of a community of friends where honesty is valued and grace is given. Even if I wanted to stay hidden, my own weaknesses and needs have pushed me out into the open. When we had a miscarriage after years of infertility a woman I hardly knew from our church showed up at my door with flowers. Another friend brought a meal that consisted of “every happy food” she could find at the grocery store. It was a meal of total, wonderful, randomness that spoke greatly of how well she knew me and knew how to remind me that there were still happy things in the world. And after the birth of our fourth child I tried so hard to put out a perception that I was doing fine, but the women who dropped meals off on my porch for weeks after the official church meals had stopped knew me better than that. Crisis has forced me into revealing my inadequacies and feeling confident that these people loved me allowed me to even feel safe in those vulnerable moments.

After a year of meeting together with a group of women we were asked to write a little sentence of affirmation for each other. These little strips of paper were put into a glass bottle that we could keep as a reminder of the beauty others see in us. When I first opened this bottle, my expectation was that women would write affirmations consistent with the appearance I try to put out to the world. It was beautiful and sweetly shocking to me to see that these women had instead affirmed aspects of myself that I thought I had kept hidden. They saw the deep truths of my heart and because these notes were anonymous, their affirmation felt like words straight from God’s heart. A few months after receiving that bottle, mine still sits on the windowsill over my sink where I have spent many moments looking at it and remembering that those women know me, and they love me anyway.

Sometimes it is tempting to be frustrated with not being understood. We want to say, “You don’t know me!” and push away those close to us when there’s conflict or uncomfortableness. But I want to encourage you that if you aren’t feeling known, it’s not because you are not worth knowing. It’s not because people don’t want to know you or aren’t willing to get to know you. It may very well be because you are presenting yourself as unknowable. Your own fears are keeping you from being vulnerable and honest. We all have to fight the desire to self-protect and hide, but the rewards for opening ourselves up to relationship are big and beautiful. Only when we have made the effort to know others and have been known in return can we offer the kind of unconditional love that nurtures, that shapes, that changes lives. It takes opening ourselves up and investing in others to truly make an impact. It’s scary. It’s intimidating. It’s a lot of work. But it’s worth it.