Three clients. A big man-a career in sports. A gentle and delicate woman-a mother and a professional. A driven CEO. Different backgrounds, different origins, different ages, different socioeconomic statuses. Three different people, and yet all exhibit the same trait.
“She is not honest with me!”, protests the husband who habitually lies. “I miss him because I could always talk to him”, says the woman about the man who was seldom there for her. “One of my main traits is integrity, and I always keep my commitment”, states the husband who strayed again and again.
And we are all like them.
“She is such a gossiper…”, says the girl to her friend. “Don’t lie!” barks the mother admonishing her son ten minutes after instructing him to tell a friend that she is not home. “I want to be a therapist because I am a kind and caring person”, said the candidate, whilst convincing her elderly mother-in-law to sell her house, so that she would be given the proceeds.
The blindness. The splitting. The unintegrated self.
“Did you see how much he drank?” I asked, shoving one slice of bread after another into my mouth. “Everyone in my school loves me”, said the teacher who is enormously lonely.
Remember those fun-house mirrors that deform your reflection? We look at our reflections and exclaim: “I look so weird!”, “It so doesn’t look like me”. “I look like a Picasso painting”, we say. Is it our reflected psyche that stares at us from the mirror? No, we are not as fat as the twisty mirror makes us appear, nor are we as skinny. But maybe this “inaccurate” reflection of who we are is a glaring symbol of what we are afraid to see?
And yet it is there for the world to see, even when we don’t want to. Especially when we don’t want to.
Eventually, they will see all of our parts. But we will not…we will not.