Reality and the Need for Validation
I was watching Amelie on tv yesterday, and I've had too much time to think about myself over the months - a favorite though tedious subject - and I found myself asking: what is so wrong with shunning reality? Why does the painter Dufayel rebuke Amelie for dreaming about a boy she never met instead of forming relationships with the people around her, when Amelie herself feels that the last thing she wants is a reality check? Surely we have to agree that her fantasy life was bound to be more interesting. Of course, we have no idea how great Amelie's life is after she wins the boyfriend, but we do know that THAT story never got made into a movie, and in any case, common sense says there's a slim-to-none chance that the real relationship could have held a candle to the fabulousness of the courtship... How could it, when Nino confesses at one point that the mystery is what draws him to the girl?
I too like the fantasy boyfriend in my head better than any of the real things, and if I'm perfectly honest with myself, I probably like the fantasy Me in my head better than I like the real thing. It's not just that I wake up and am surprised (and disappointed) with the life I've made for myself; I'm often quite shocked that I've cut off any necessary means for the necessary means for pursuing a life beyond that of a nerd, so that even if I wanted to be something else, I wouldn't have the foggiest clue how to make that happen.
But that's neither here nor there, because there's no point in renouncing the harvest I've already sown. This particular post is about why I care so much about it. I've concluded that we're invested in reality at the expense of our fantasy lives because we need the validation from others, a self-worth certificate more "objective" in nature...
...which is a totally obvious and banal observation. But I'm choosing to pursue the theme because I'm at a nadir of exposure to outside concerns and validation, so perhaps I'm as qualified as I'll ever be (one hopes) to commenting about what the fantasy life is missing, that we should all elect to sacrifice its pleasures.
The first thing that's missing is the sheer, simple comfort of other people's company. Again, this seems like a "duh" point, but consider that a lot of people thrive perfectly well without it. Cf. the UM Classics department. Also, I've felt I needed this comfort most/exclusively? in times of suckness, and I've sometimes reflected that it's a character weakness that I've formed this dependency. My readers know one particular bad influence I've kept in my life, against all rational arguments, because I get sentimental about this friend's plain, physical (omni)presence - even when I feel burdened by it in happier times.
The second thing that's missing from the fantasy life is the validation. We could be the Fonz of cool in our heads, but that self-image can't stand up for a minute when we jar it against contrasting evidence from the real world. Then we instantly feel bad about ourselves. So, in order to forestall that foolish-feeling moment of surprise, we court reality's validation 24/7. Additionally, there are some more tangible ways in which we expect this validation to pay off further down the line. Actually, for me, I think it's the only reason I do anything: nothing sucks so much as wanting something badly, but not getting it because of a well-founded reason. So we build and build and build, and be as fabulous as we can possibly be, just so that no one can have a right to say no. Sometimes this backfires (like when you're looking for your first job, and your illustrious degrees make you too overqualified for the mediocre jobs, while you're lack of experience (at those mediocre jobs) makes you too underqualified for the really flush jobs), and at other times, it pays off beautifully, as planned (like when you're applying to law schools that make a mathematical algorithm of your accomplishments). Other times still - in fact, probably most of the time - it doesn't make a bit of difference, because no one gives a rat's ass about you, they're too busy stressing about themselves.
The third thing that's missing from the fantasy life is the surprise, that breathtaking delight that only other people can bring. This I think is the only really legitimate, or at least only compelling, argument for preferring an asshole Real Boyfriend over your perfect Fantasy Boyfriend. But the joy of the surprise can also be rationalized away. Lately, especially, the surprises I've been getting from friends have done nothing but instigate feuds. And even when they didn't erupt into full-fledged feuds, these surprises - an unexpected jolt of a hint that you and the friend are not on the same page - seemed to do more to make me feel distant and a little sad, than they did to make me feel delighted and amused. Take, for example, a friend I used to adore and recently spent a lot of intensive time with. I discovered that she has some weird ideas about personal boundaries. I always admired her because she's a no-bullshit dame, shoots straight from the hip and calls you out if you're acting the schmuck. Naturally, I just assumed that she was all about being open and real, but apparently I assumed wrong. Twice, within the same hour, practically, she cut off the conversation by saying, "I don't want to talk about this anymore," or (worse yet), "I don't feel I have to discuss this with you." Of course I don't expect anyone to HAVE to discuss anything with me, but I was pretty offended with this iron-curtain. I didn't think I was being aggressive or inappropriately inquisitive, I thought I was just asking the normal questions to keep the thoughts flowing when it comes to topics like friends and relationships. So if these topics are off limits, does that mean I'm even a friend? Or does that mean that this one person completely has a double standard, where everyone else's actions are fair game for scrutiny, but hers are not? I'm not even sure which is worse.
I'm sure I'll hardly care after a few weeks, because these two remarks were just a wrinkle in an otherwise nice visit. But they were significant enough to get me thinking, again, about my problematic, ever-lowering, tolerance for the quirks of other people. I keep telling myself that I would hate for others to remember every single faux pas and offense I've ever made, which would be considerable - hourly, at least - and so it's not exactly fair to hold these little episodes against them...
But the conclusion to this post remains consistent: there is NOTHING wrong with being like Amelie. If I can only get rid of my vanity and sentimental weakness, it seems like her life is more enriched than mine, in pretty much every way I can think of.
I too like the fantasy boyfriend in my head better than any of the real things, and if I'm perfectly honest with myself, I probably like the fantasy Me in my head better than I like the real thing. It's not just that I wake up and am surprised (and disappointed) with the life I've made for myself; I'm often quite shocked that I've cut off any necessary means for the necessary means for pursuing a life beyond that of a nerd, so that even if I wanted to be something else, I wouldn't have the foggiest clue how to make that happen.
But that's neither here nor there, because there's no point in renouncing the harvest I've already sown. This particular post is about why I care so much about it. I've concluded that we're invested in reality at the expense of our fantasy lives because we need the validation from others, a self-worth certificate more "objective" in nature...
...which is a totally obvious and banal observation. But I'm choosing to pursue the theme because I'm at a nadir of exposure to outside concerns and validation, so perhaps I'm as qualified as I'll ever be (one hopes) to commenting about what the fantasy life is missing, that we should all elect to sacrifice its pleasures.
The first thing that's missing is the sheer, simple comfort of other people's company. Again, this seems like a "duh" point, but consider that a lot of people thrive perfectly well without it. Cf. the UM Classics department. Also, I've felt I needed this comfort most/exclusively? in times of suckness, and I've sometimes reflected that it's a character weakness that I've formed this dependency. My readers know one particular bad influence I've kept in my life, against all rational arguments, because I get sentimental about this friend's plain, physical (omni)presence - even when I feel burdened by it in happier times.
The second thing that's missing from the fantasy life is the validation. We could be the Fonz of cool in our heads, but that self-image can't stand up for a minute when we jar it against contrasting evidence from the real world. Then we instantly feel bad about ourselves. So, in order to forestall that foolish-feeling moment of surprise, we court reality's validation 24/7. Additionally, there are some more tangible ways in which we expect this validation to pay off further down the line. Actually, for me, I think it's the only reason I do anything: nothing sucks so much as wanting something badly, but not getting it because of a well-founded reason. So we build and build and build, and be as fabulous as we can possibly be, just so that no one can have a right to say no. Sometimes this backfires (like when you're looking for your first job, and your illustrious degrees make you too overqualified for the mediocre jobs, while you're lack of experience (at those mediocre jobs) makes you too underqualified for the really flush jobs), and at other times, it pays off beautifully, as planned (like when you're applying to law schools that make a mathematical algorithm of your accomplishments). Other times still - in fact, probably most of the time - it doesn't make a bit of difference, because no one gives a rat's ass about you, they're too busy stressing about themselves.
The third thing that's missing from the fantasy life is the surprise, that breathtaking delight that only other people can bring. This I think is the only really legitimate, or at least only compelling, argument for preferring an asshole Real Boyfriend over your perfect Fantasy Boyfriend. But the joy of the surprise can also be rationalized away. Lately, especially, the surprises I've been getting from friends have done nothing but instigate feuds. And even when they didn't erupt into full-fledged feuds, these surprises - an unexpected jolt of a hint that you and the friend are not on the same page - seemed to do more to make me feel distant and a little sad, than they did to make me feel delighted and amused. Take, for example, a friend I used to adore and recently spent a lot of intensive time with. I discovered that she has some weird ideas about personal boundaries. I always admired her because she's a no-bullshit dame, shoots straight from the hip and calls you out if you're acting the schmuck. Naturally, I just assumed that she was all about being open and real, but apparently I assumed wrong. Twice, within the same hour, practically, she cut off the conversation by saying, "I don't want to talk about this anymore," or (worse yet), "I don't feel I have to discuss this with you." Of course I don't expect anyone to HAVE to discuss anything with me, but I was pretty offended with this iron-curtain. I didn't think I was being aggressive or inappropriately inquisitive, I thought I was just asking the normal questions to keep the thoughts flowing when it comes to topics like friends and relationships. So if these topics are off limits, does that mean I'm even a friend? Or does that mean that this one person completely has a double standard, where everyone else's actions are fair game for scrutiny, but hers are not? I'm not even sure which is worse.
I'm sure I'll hardly care after a few weeks, because these two remarks were just a wrinkle in an otherwise nice visit. But they were significant enough to get me thinking, again, about my problematic, ever-lowering, tolerance for the quirks of other people. I keep telling myself that I would hate for others to remember every single faux pas and offense I've ever made, which would be considerable - hourly, at least - and so it's not exactly fair to hold these little episodes against them...
But the conclusion to this post remains consistent: there is NOTHING wrong with being like Amelie. If I can only get rid of my vanity and sentimental weakness, it seems like her life is more enriched than mine, in pretty much every way I can think of.
posted by Rex at 1:28 AM
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