Chapter 4

We Learn From Society

It would have been nice if the hypothetical children in the first chapter could have shed their education and conditioning immediately upon their release from the institution in which they’d been reared. Unfortunately, those beliefs—whether true or not—that we learn early and by rote are extremely difficult to overcome. Because of that, we commonly carry what we’ve learned from our parents into our subsequent relationships. Each of us, throughout our lives, is involved in many different relationships. Some are pleasant and some aren’t. Some are with individuals and some are with organizations or groups of people. Some are due to necessity and some are a matter of choice. In some of them, we don’t care at all about what others think of us. In some, we care a great deal.

We may occasionally know people who we just don’t like for one reason or another. This person may call us names, call us worthless and even try to threaten us. We don’t care. In those relationships in which our sense of identity, worth, or security is unaffected by the other person’s beliefs about us, we’ve assumed them to have no qualifications or dependability in telling us who we are, what we’re worth, or to what extent our security is dependent on them. In those cases where we do care very much what the other person thinks of us—where our sense of identity, worth, or security is enhanced by the other party’s beliefs—we have assumed them to be qualified and dependable judges. In leaving home we may depend less on our parents’ judgments, but we commonly fill that void with other relationships, continuing what we were taught by looking to others for validation. These are the relationships that need to be looked at.

Though the nature of these relationships will vary, they all have common elements. Whenever we allow the judgments of other people to influence our sense of identity, worth or security, we have assumed them to be qualified and dependable in telling us who we are, what we’re worth and/or in what our security lies. To the extent that we do that, we subject ourselves to being victimized. If, to maintain a positive self-image, we feel the need constantly to impress or placate the other party, then we may tend to be dishonest in the relationship. We may be reluctant to say or do anything that might anger the other person or hurt them for fear they’ll think less of us.

We’ll simultaneously be more willing to say and do things with which we might personally disagree simply because they want us to say or do them. Since we’ve made our beliefs about ourselves dependent on their beliefs about us, we won’t want to risk alienating them.

If these people in whom we’ve placed our trust to validate our identity, worth or security are not truly qualified to do that, then we are being victimized by maintaining erroneous beliefs about ourselves. By refusing to acknowledge the extent of the power we’ve given them or by simply assuming our trust is well-founded, we’ll not question whether we should look elsewhere for validation.

These general principles apply to all our relationships. It doesn’t matter whether the relationship is personal, professional, or social. It doesn’t matter whether it’s with an individual or a group. We decide, based on our own criteria, who we deem qualified to determine our identity, worth or security.

It is important to realize there is a flip side to this. We aren’t the only ones who listen to unqualified and undependable messengers. Those around us do, too. What if they decide to assume that we are qualified and dependable? Would we want them to?

Stop and think about that for a minute. Who are easier to control, people who believe your messages about who they are, or those who couldn’t care less what you think? People who treasure your love or those who are indifferent? Those who depend on you for their well-being, or people who survive completely independent of you? Or is the question of control irrelevant? I think not. There have been too many books written about how to win and maintain control for us to pretend that we don’t want it in our relationships. We want it because we’ve been taught that by controlling our relationships we can enhance our sense of identity, our sense of worth, and our sense of security.

What really happens when we take control by encouraging others to view us as qualified and dependable in telling them who they are, what they’re worth, or to what extent their well-being is dependent on us?

When we encourage others to depend on us for their sense of identity, worth or security we are representing to them that we are qualified to tell them who they are. If we control them or manipulate them because they believe our misrepresentation, then we’re victimizing them. If, to appease us, they’re less than honest with us in the relationship because of their assumed need to receive favorable judgment, then we’re deprived of knowing or responding to what they really feel and believe.

The people who believe your judgments about their identity, worth, or security, whether you encourage them to believe the pronouncements or not, will see you as having more power than they have. They may hold you responsible not only for their identity, worth and security, but also for the trust they’ve placed in you. If they discover you are not truly the definitive authority on who they are, what they’re worth, or what they need, look out. Depending on the amount of control, manipulation, and unspoken resentments and anger, a desire for revenge at having been victimized may be forthcoming. They most likely won’t feel they can hurt you until they’ve taken back the power they once gave you.

The implications of these principles are apparent in all our relationships. In those cases where we depend on other people or things for our sense of identity, security, or worth, we tend to blame them, often with great resentment, when their lack of dependability is finally recognized. Though it was our assumption of their dependability and qualifications that caused us to trust them in the first place, we tend not to assume responsibility for placing the trust ourselves. We blame them for having somehow deceived us.

In those cases where we have encouraged others to view our messages about their identity, worth, and security as authoritative, we tend to feel betrayed and defensive when they ultimately discover and acknowledge our lack of dependability.

It’s all too common for couples entering romantic relationships to assume each other to be qualified and authoritative messengers. A legitimate disagreement or criticism may then be read as an assault on identity or worth or as a threat to security. When they ultimately question the dependability of each other to satisfy those needs, the consequences may destroy the relationship. Because their reciprocal trust has failed them, each of them is suffering some loss of identity, some sense of insecurity, and some feelings of questioned worth. Both of them are feeling vulnerable and perhaps resentful. If either or both of them refuse to accept responsibility for their poor assumptions and chooses, instead, to hold the other party responsible, the relationship has little chance for survival. If either or both of them refuse to acknowledge how both of them have been victimized, the relationship has no chance for a healthy survival. If either or both of them refuse to acknowledge how they have victimized the other, the relationship has no chance of healthy survival. If either or both of them simply seek someone new in whom to validate their identity, security, and worth, then they’ll start another unhealthy relationship and will find another unqualified and undependable object of trust.

Each of us must ultimately assume responsibility for our own assumptions of dependability. We also must assume at least some responsibility if we fail to discourage others from believing we are qualified to define their identity, assess their worth, or ensure their ultimate security. If we fail to acknowledge and question these assumptions, we will continue to live out the effects of our faulty education. We will be motivated and victimized by beliefs that are completely untrue.

Whenever people feel trapped in relationships they’d prefer to be free of, then at least one of these principles is at work. It makes no difference whether those relationships are romantic, professional, or social. If any relationship is perpetuated when one or both of the parties would be better off without it, then at least one of these principles is at work.

Until we can enter relationships with our senses of identity, worth, and security intact and unassailable by the other party, we cannot have healthy relationships. No one, including ourselves, can authoritatively determine who we are, what we’re worth, or ensure our ultimate security.