Does anyone know you in full? Do you know yourself?
Remember the first time you heard your recorded voice? You might have been startled, surprised at its strangeness. Your parents, siblings, and acquaintances listened to your genuine sound before you did.
The example underlines why peers, partners, and buddies have knowledge of us that we lack. They judge our intellect, appearance, and temperament as they peer from the outside.
There are evolutionary reasons for holding on to our sense of ourselves without the discomfort of another’s negative appraisal. It is best to have a consistent and favorable view of yourself and not experience the “slings and arrows” of every new, negative opinion. Nonetheless, the attitudes of some others can be troublesome.
Your friends hold secret judgments of you as you do of them. Perhaps they tell you about a few, but not all, though they cannot mind-read and uncover all the thoughts and feelings therein. An acceptable social life requires hiding aspects of ourselves and keeping a distance from the unshared private thoughts of those we contact.
Do you recall the magic mirror in Snow White? The evil but beautiful Queen couldn’t tolerate the truth when the mirror revealed Snow White as the fairest in all the land.
The 1945 movie, The Picture of Dorian Gray, portrays an uncommonly handsome, seemingly ageless man who travels from innocence to his dark side. When he discovers that a portrait of him is beginning to display his corruption, he removes the painting rather than change his behavior.
A speedy way to end a friendship is to inform someone of something they do not wish to realize about themselves, or at least, your opinion. A few who can accept the pain of such knowledge can gain helpful awareness, but the informer should choose with care.
Memory plays tricks on both sides of a relationship. People attend to what they consider the most significant qualities in the other, as the other does about them.
An immediate evaluation of the various characteristics of the person happens quickly and is revised with time. Friends can forget much of who we are, including some of the traumas we suffered. Most individuals are far more preoccupied with themselves than with all but those closest to them.
During years of oral history interviews of Chicago Symphony musicians, I spoke with a principal player whose abilities were declining. I also talked to some of his colleagues, who knew he diminished the orchestra despite his long-standing but fading glory.
The virtuoso’s opinion of himself remained elevated. On the other hand, his colleagues’ ears told them what the newspaper music critics who reviewed the CSO were reporting to their readers before the ink touched the page.
To perform as a soloist, with or without the backing of a superb orchestra, requires extraordinary talent and self-confidence. Worry too much about the decline in your technique, and you cannot do the job. Thus, the man in question did not recognize the change in himself as he aged, though his high estimate of his talents and considerable confidence had been essential to his successful career.
Human beings alter over time. Which version of ourselves do we remember? Part of any life involves recognizing who we are now, not who we were, whether aging has left a mark, what we used to be able to do, etc. Such recognition of a loss of stature can be too much to bear.
Not surprisingly, we often forget or minimize losses and injuries over time. Memories decay, and painful emotions can depart. This is a part of healing, too.
The unconscious takes a role in managing our lives. Repression assumes the job of defending against beliefs and memories that would produce anxiety in the conscious mind.
Dissociation involves splitting off parts of our experience that might reduce the ability to function.
Humankind is also well-practiced at rationalizing its behavior, no matter the thoughts of acquaintances.
Many observers wonder how some individuals manage their imagined guilty conscience and sleep at night. Between suppressing thoughts about behavior, dissociation, repression, denial, and blocking out history, humanity seems to live with itself, at least on occasion, as if it carried a built-in automatic eraser of much of its conscience. Without being shadowed by one’s guilt, bedtime is untroubled.
Many believe they would behave admirably in situations they have never experienced, making themselves wise men or heroes without ever earning the distinction. This, too, contributes to a positive view of who you are and would be, if pressed.
To our relief, the wicked Queen’s mirror is nowhere to be found. If we are brave, we can study the washroom’s mounted silvered glass and decide who we are. Ultimately, the most intriguing hidden secret self might not be the one we conceal from others. Instead, it might be the one we hide from ourselves.
Is anyone completely exempt from this self-created form of magic?
How would one know?
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The second image shows Hurd Hatfield, the lead actor in The Picture of Dorian Gray, in front of the painting, reflecting his immoral condition. The third image is Picasso’s Girl in Chair, 1952. Next comes Giorgio de Chirico’s Two Heads. The final work is Salvador Dali’s Gala Contemplating the Mediterranean Sea Which at Twenty Meters Becomes the Portrait of Abraham Lincoln — Homage to Rothko (first version). 1974-1975.
