There are many ways to hide from your life

I’ve been thinking an awful lot about achievement, and the Race to Nowhere, and the ways we hide from our lives.  Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how complicated it gets when the ways you hide from your life are applauded by the world.  For me this has mostly been true: whether it’s running or studying with a fierce concentration or following the tide of popular sentiment down a path that might have been the wrong one.

This is a kind of hiding in plain sight, right?  None of your behaviors speak of anything being wrong.  In fact, they are celebrated.  For me, the pinnacle of this was at Exeter.  I’ve been very frank that my two years at Exeter were difficult for me.  I think late adolescence is an emotional and awkward time for most people, and some extenuating circumstances made mine especially challenging.  My parents were across an ocean (and in this pre-cell day, we spoke once a week on the payphone in the basement of my dorm).  My heart was broken at the very beginning of senior year when the first relationship of my life exploded in front of me (and in a hurtful, and public, way, no less).

What did I do?  I ran and I studied.  That is it.  I ran for an hour every single day, mostly in the woods out behind the gymnasium (across the bridge that appears in A Separate Peace), but when it was really freezing I’d run laps around the track suspended above the cage.    My senior year GPA was 10.8 (out of Exeter’s characteristically-unusual GPA scale of 11).  I read and I wrote and I studied and I went to bed every single night well before 10.  I didn’t have many close friends.  I didn’t have another boyfriend.  I didn’t ever break any rules, didn’t experiment with drinking or smoking, as so many boarding school denizens do.

It was a fraught time.  I was a liminal creature (Peggy Orenstein ascended even further in my pantheon of favorites when she used this, one of my favorite words, in Cinderella Ate My Daughter).  I was moving from girlhood to adulthood, and I was doing it mostly all by myself.  In this dark time, one I remember as still and ever-moving at the same time, I had one firm guide: James Valhouli, my English teacher, the first person to believe I had something of value to say.

But all of my coping mechanisms, things that I understand now were ways of avoiding actually engaging with my life, looked like success from the outside.  I was profoundly unhappy, but I don’t think anyone who didn’t know me well could tell.  I don’t know what the conclusion of this is, necessarily, but I do know that it points to a truth I’ve often referred to here: outsides and insides are not always congruent, and we ought to be slower to judge others based on the external indicators they display.  It also reminds me that there are many, many ways to hide from our lives, to numb ourselves to the things that hurt, and we would be well-served to approach all others with compassion.  They, too, are likely grappling with demons, even if we cannot see the struggle.

29 thoughts on “There are many ways to hide from your life”

  1. Yes to all of the above.

    This sort of thing has been weighing on me lately, too.
    I wonder what the world would be like if we all matched our actions to what we feel…

    And your words make me think of these…

    Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.  ~Plato

    I am glad you are here now, Lindsey. Thank you.

  2. I’m smiling … Plato’s words, which I’ve long loved, were in my head with every line I wrote. Absolutely. Absolutely.

  3. Oh Lindsey, what can I say? I could write a book on this. And actually just had a very heated debate with my closest group of girlfriends on this very issue, and how it relates to the choices we make for our children. I’m saddened to have realized that they will push their children to be who they think they should be, rather than nurturing who they want to be. It was a long complicated discussion, but I was heartened to come here today and to see that, once again, we have so much in common. High school was very challenging for me. I graduated with my school’s highest distinction, I was integrally involved in the school’s culture and I made all the “right” choices, but I was overwhelmingly alone. So I understand.

    Like I said I could write a book 🙂

    xoxo

  4. Thank you for this (perhaps difficult for you) window into who you were (and are)? I think you are so so right, that many of the ways we actually hide from our lives and from our selves are things society actually celebrates and diagnoses as “success” or “happiness” or “order” on some level. What to do about this other than acknowledge it and tell our own stories?

  5. Oh so true. Every single person we encounter is carrying a load of her own burdens. If we could hold that, remember that, we could look on others with so much kindness and compassion. And maybe give a little to ourselves as well. xoxo

  6. this touches me deeply, as my heart is tender. i suppose i am feeling a bit raw and vulnerable these days. though i long to be truly seen, hiding has been my contraction, fear default. the cave trappings are so socially acceptable, it does become dangerous seduction to stay hidden. thank you for your gentle reminders and fierce support.

  7. My late-adolescent hiding place?? Being skinny. Too skinny. Unhealthy skinny that comes with a certain diagnosis. But unfortunately in the prep school set that is interpreted as will power – its own brand of achievement. It was celebrated, but it was hiding all the same.

  8. WOW. As a woman and a mom, I can so relate to what you’ve written. I thank you so much for sharing your story–so beautifully and powerfully–that could be about any one of us.

  9. What’s messed up about dating in high school and college these days is that so many people date defensively. The thinking is, I won’t give of myself, because then you can’t hurt me. (That’s the hiding you’re talking about.)
    Then when you realize you actually want intimacy and have to undo all your bad habits to be able to find a good kindhearted open person, and to be one (on a date). I know some many women who are great, sassy, fun with me, but on a date, are coolly defensive.

  10. So much truth in this Lindsey—and thus you model for us a path to a differently defined happiness and success through radical authenticity and connection.

    Perhaps the terrified parents trigger the terrified teachers to keep up the charade of denial and pass it along to the terrified children until it repeats long enough, and unconsciously enough that it passes for culture, and then, perhaps, collapses due to its own faulty architecture.

    Here’s to rebuilding with joy, presence and compassion. XO

  11. Beautiful, and so true. I can’t remember who is it who said that to be alive is to struggle with the understanding that everyone else is as complicated as you are. This post made me think of that.

  12. I really loved this post, and can so relate. Thank you for writing it.
    It’s interesting, isn’t it, all the ways we hide. Pema Chodron calls them ‘babysitters’ – which I think is apt. I too went through a period where I ran. And ran. And ran. Like it was going to save my life. And while it did, it was also a desperate attempt to control something.

    Anyway, thanks again for your words. They’re always great.

  13. This is why it is so important to develop true friendships. What I mean by that are friends who know you as you are, not as you want to seem, or as the world perceives you.

    Even if you only have one true friend, the relief you feel from being able to take off the mask and relax can rejuvenate your energy and happiness. And in this case, you can’t have too much of a good thing.

  14. I have felt especially lonely lately even while appearing to have it all together and figured out. I am more lost than ever. When I feel lost I work hard. I try to make everything perfect because inside nothing is. The desperate need to control all aspects of my life is a feeling I know you can relate to.

    Sometimes when I post something on my blog or Facebook that makes me feel vulnerable I wonder if perhaps I have disclosed too much. Then I usually think of you. Living authentically is hard because you must be brave enough to express who you are.

  15. Great post. I’m such a cynic, I just *assume* the outsides and the insides don’t match! It’s rare for any of us to be evolved enough, and brave enough, to show our true faces to the outside world.

    Also, food for thought: we always speak of loneliness like it’s a bad thing, and people sure do bad things to get away from it (I’m thinking of a few crappy marriages I know of that didn’t need to happen). But I suspect the Zen masters would tell us loneliness is part of the process.

    Have you read May Sarton’s Journal of a Solitude? LOVE that book. She’s very fierce.

  16. I have a friend who is always busy…always. She is busy with important, good things. But I know, and I can see that if she stopped for just one second…chaos. I so see what you are saying.

  17. Yes, yes, yes. This speaks to me very much. And as someone who has struggled with food and exercise, I know all too well that following the rules–being thin, working out–can serve to distract and to conceal. But you can get away with doing these things for a long time, because they are more socially supported than other “bad” ways of hiding (e.g., using drugs). Also glad to hear that you’ve read Orenstein’s new book–it is on my ever-growing list but I hope to get to it soon.

  18. Ah, this is so filled with compassion. Hiding from life by doing *the accepted thing* is just as damaging to my essential self. My task is to throw of the shroud of hiding and emerge to the bright light and LIVE.

  19. Lindsey, you commented on my 50 Shades of Motherhood…thanks! I love your blog. Love how vulnerable and honest you are. This particular one rings true for me. I grew up in a home where appearances were very important. So, I’ve mastered the art of smiling and acting engaged with people while every fiber of my being wants to crawl in a ball and cry. It’s not one I hope to pass along to my 4 kids. You’re really talented…thanks for sharing!

  20. I believe that all of us possess a deep longing that cannot be fulfilled here and now. We yearn for complete contentment, justice, perfection. What do we do with these groanings? Do we stuff things into our emptiness that cannot fill it, both bad and good things? Or do we recognize that we are hard-wired for eternity and that this life is not all there is? Can our deepest aches actually point us toward what’s to come? I believe they can. I recommend Mark Buchanan’s “Things Unseen” as well as writings by CS Lewis.

  21. WOW is all I can say: I found your website a few days ago and I wish I’d found it a few years ago! So much of what you write is so very relevant to me, and this particular paragraph gave me shivers up my spine as it’s something that I’m going through right now:

    ‘But all of my coping mechanisms, things that I understand now were ways of avoiding actually engaging with my life, looked like success from the outside. I was profoundly unhappy, but I don’t think anyone who didn’t know me well could tell. I don’t know what the conclusion of this is, necessarily, but I do know that it points to a truth I’ve often referred to here: outsides and insides are not always congruent, and we ought to be slower to judge others based on the external indicators they display. It also reminds me that there are many, many ways to hide from our lives, to numb ourselves to the things that hurt, and we would be well-served to approach all others with compassion. They, too, are likely grappling with demons, even if we cannot see the struggle.’

    You read my mind. xxx

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