Feedback as a Mirror

One of the most treasured gifts in my life are friends who love me to my core and call me on my bullshit.

Several years ago, one of those friends gave me this feedback about what it was like to teach me to play a new board game:

It's like you have attached electrodes to the most sensitive part of my body. As I teach, if I explain something you already understood, *zap*. If I fail to accurately explain something you don't understand, *zap*. I love playing games with you, but teaching you is an emotional ordeal, and I'm not always up for it.

As you might imagine, this was really hard to hear! I think of myself as a smart and compassionate soul who learns new things quickly and gracefully. To hear he was having such a different experience was upsetting. But even as he said it, I knew it was true.

I do value compassion and patience. Learning new things is important to me. When I'm feeling secure, that's how I show up. But I also have a story that goes something like this:

Being smart is the most valuable thing about you. If you give people evidence that you aren't as smart as they thought, they won't need you anymore and you'll be alone.

Through that lens, the situation is much different. Every time he told me something I'd already figured out on my own, I risked losing a hard-earned smart point. Each loss bringing me one step closer to the invisible line, past which I'd be discarded. The same was true on the other side. Each time he failed to explain a rule I didn't know, I risked making a foolish mistake that could have been prevented by knowing the rule-- which also lead to the loss of smart points and the abyss.

As I type it out here, I can see how silly it is, especially considering this was about board games. But before he pointed it out, my behavior was totally invisible to me. After he pointed it out, I realized how often I put people in that very difficult position, all in an effort to stay valuable and wanted.

The good news is once he held up the mirror and I could see what was happening, I was able to meet the part of me that deployed the strategy with compassion and then start practicing different, less violent strategies in similar situations. As a result, it's much less scary to teach me things--most of the time. And when I do pull out the electrodes, I am able to notice faster, apologize and make a different choice.

Do you have people in your life who are brave enough to love you deeply while also helping you see the ways you don't show up the way you'd like? How do you show them gratitude?