Getting hit where it hurts.

(originally posted Wednesday, July 25, 2007)

The other day I was sitting at breakfast, reading the newspaper as usual, when I saw “Dear Abby’s” column. She was answering a letter from a woman whose boyfriend kept coming up with excuses for not getting married. Abby, correctly in my opinion, chalked this up to a fear of commitment. And then she added a line that really took me aback. She said, “he is not man enough to give you what you need.”
Not man enough?
I wonder, if this woman had said her boyfriend refuses to get on an airplane because of his fear of flying, Abby would have said that he wasn’t man enough to travel with her? Or if he refused to get rid of a spider in their bathtub because of a fear of spiders, would Abby have said he wasn’t man enough to protect her? Where then, does she get off saying that his fear of commitment means he is not man enough?
We are, after all, talking of fears, of phobias, of anxieties that are not subject to rational control. When men who are commitment-phobic come to see me, they are quite ashamed of their inability to commit. They frequently mask it with bravado, hide it behind a carefree facade, but inside, they are desperately lonely and afraid. Afraid that they will never be able to have a “normal” relationship, afraid that they will die all alone.
Actually, I endorse Abby’s advice to the woman who wrote: Get out now and move on. I think she needs to do that for her own health. But there is no need to add to the shame of her boyfriend — and other commitment-phobic men — in giving that advice.
Now, if this were the sort of thing that was said by Abby alone, I’d have ignored it. However, this kind of reaction is all too common. We have a tendency to look at other people’s weaknesses, their inabilities, as character flaws. When other people do not satisfy our needs, or meet our expectations, we tend to label them deficient. And, depending on how deeply disappointed we feel, we can be quite vocal, and quite vicious in that labelling.
My experience as a counsellor has taught me this: every weakness is a wound.
Human beings are born with a deep need for attachment, for relationships with others. When people are unable to form close, stable attachments, it is because, somewhere in their development, they have had experiences that have made them fear closeness. Other weaknesses and inabilities develop in similar ways. Maybe I’ll blog about those another time.
Disparaging someone who displays a weakness is a lot like hitting someone right where it hurts. If we see someone doing that to a person with a physical wound, we would be horrified. But when people do that to someone with an emotional or developmental wound, we often see them as justified. But putting people down for what they cannot do makes as much sense as mocking someone who is physically disabled. And is about as compassionate.
If people are unable to give us what we need, we may have to distance ourselves from them in order to take care of ourselves. But there really is no reason for adding insult to injury. And it will be an injury. For while this woman will be hurt and disappointed that the relationship did not work out, her boyfriend will also be hurt, ashamed of what he perceives as his failure, and deeply afraid that he will never be able to have a lasting relationship with anyone.