Images: How They Help and Hinder

The impression we present of ourselves in society and the way we perceive ourselves can be summed up with the word “image.” Ideally,  our internal and external images coincide. If we’re unaware of the disparity, we may suffer the consequences.

Some of struggle to present ourselves in society, even while we acknowledge the necessity of doing so. The author Anne Morrow Lindbergh expressed the chore in the 1955 inspirational book, A Gift from the Sea. “The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere. That is why so much of social life is exhausting, one is wearing a mask,” she wrote.

Some of us have a need to present ourselves in an idealized light— even when they have already achieved success. For example, the Pulitzer-prize winning poet Robert Frost claimed that his classic poem, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening had been dashed off in one sitting; years later, his notes showed many revisions. In spite of his self-portrayal as genius poet, he wasn’t above the need to edit his work.

Many people suffer from feelings of the imposter syndrome, a term coined by psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne A. Imes in 1978  to refer to  feelings of self- doubt in high achievers who don’t (completely) internalize their accomplishments. It is estimated that 70% of us have moments  of self-doubt.

 Unless we’re master manipulators, mavericks or geniuses possessing the courage of our own conviction, we’re more or less vulnerable to others’ perceptions of us.

For example, Ms. K. was depressed to the point that she had lost touch with her identity as an artist. Psychotherapy helped her pinpoint an explanation: the constant criticism of her spouse had caused her to feel inadequate. Gradually the depression lifted; she reconnected with her image as an artist and began to sculpt again.

The false image of self-confidence can be extreme, as portrayed by Edward Arlington Robinson in his 1897 poem, “Richard Cory”.

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,

We people on the pavement looked at him:

He was a gentleman from sole to crown,

Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,

And he was always human when he talked;

But still he fluttered pulses when he said,

"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—

And admirably schooled in every grace:

In fine, we thought that he was everything

To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,

And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;

And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,

Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Conclusion: Success often depends on our ability to present a socially acceptable image. Ideally, our social image aligns with our authentic self or essence.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts. jsimon145@gmail.com

Betrayal (Some Thoughts)

Recently, a patient who had been in treatment for over a year  confessed to me that she’d been using illicit drugs the entire time. Of course, her behavior embodied a kind of betrayal to herself and to the relationship. 

Although I felt misled, her life was impacted to a far greater extent than mine. In the therapeutic relationship when a patient/client deceives her psychotherapist, she undermines her investment of time and money, and diverts herself from the path of authenticity and progress to travel the treacherous road of deception and duplicity.

Nevertheless, her disclosure struck me like a sucker punch in the gut. Why? I wanted to believe in her. And I had to admit that to some degree I’d allowed myself to be deceived. 

In the new book, The Confidence Game,  Maria Konnikova

sums up the relationship between the betrayer and the betrayed. She describes the situation as “a delicate dance of duplicity, ambition, desire, and greed” and says that we want to believe in the truth because “basic human nature renders us uniquely vulnerable: the deception begins with us and our need to believe in a world that is better—for us—than it was a moment before.”

In everyday life we betray ourselves by breaking a diet or, more seriously, using illicit drugs. Or we can berate ourselves all our lives for a small moment in our past when we failed to live up to proper decorum.

Reviewing the annuals of history, we learn that the theme of betrayal has roiled our human roots since the beginning of time, when the serpent betrayed God by tempting Eve to eat the fruit from the Tree of knowledge of good and evil.

Since then, this violation of trust has pervaded our daily lives, from small to life-threatening events. 

The quote, “All is fair in love and war,” (or more precisely “the rules of fair play do not apply in love and war”) goes back as far as the sixteenth century to a novel written by John Lyly. In other words,  betrayal, an ingrained and ubiquitous phenomenon, is to be expected in these circumstances. Of course, the adage has often been used to justify “bad” behavior.

Betrayal often begets betrayal. If we’ve been betrayed in the past, we’re more likely to betray others in the present.  A tragic example is child abuse.  When a person is abused in childhood, he’s  likely to abuse his own child.

Glancing through the retro-spectroscope of our lives can be tricky. It may at times constitute a kind of (mini-)self-betrayal if we fail to take into consideration the circumstances that applied then. An 88-year-old man cogitates about his predicament years ago after his father died and his mother needed his attention. As a young man struggling to make a living, he couldn’t give her all the time she craved. He occasionally suffers from guilt now and does well to remember he did the best he could given the situation in the past.

Conclusion: We do well to keep in mind the ubiquitous nature of betrayal that has been with us since the beginning of time and to recognize our capacity to betray and be betrayed.

Dear Reader, I welcome your comments. drsimonsays.blogspot.com