My husband calls me “The Interrogator,” but let me back up and tell you why. My curious nature started in fourth-grade, when my class would groan when I raised my hand because I never had just one question. In college, I decided to major in journalism, so my curiosity was acceptable—asking questions was a way of life. To this day, Ryan calls me by his affectionate nickname because, at parties, I’ve been known to grill our guests. Not a lot has changed in 30 years.
I have waved off this question-asking ability as an insatiable desire to know people because they really are fascinating to me. However, my husband believes there’s more to it. He thinks that, underneath those questions, I fear being known and dislike acknowledging my hurts.
Achievers don’t want to be known.
Achiever Jill wants to keep my outward facade of perfection while avoiding the pain that comes from opening up. I’d rather stuff down my issues and wear my game face. Like Jennifer Aniston’s character in the movie Office Space, “I don’t really like talking about my flair.” In my case,“flair” means “imperfection.”
Achievers are also masters at minimizing and avoiding our own hurts.
We deflect by minimizing our own pain and comparing it to the pain of others. You’ll hear an Achiever, someone who leans more on self and less on the God of amazing grace, say something like, “Hey, I just got this diagnosis, but I have a friend of a friend of a neighbor who’s son died in a car accident, so that’s totally worse.”
Deflection isn’t consequence-free because two amazing types of friendships are impacted when we deflect.
We miss out on authentic and deep friendships. In friendship, what we give is what we get. As Harriet Lerner says in The Dance of Connection, “Who people are with us has something to do with who we are with them.” If we share freely with safe and trusted people, we’re more likely to be shared with. If we’re superficial in our conversations, we’ll have superficial relationships.
In the same way, we miss out on the value of people when we don’t receive their help and advice, or feel listened to and understood by them. Lerner writes that “We diminish people when we don’t allow them to help us, or when we act like we don’t need anything from them and they have nothing to offer us.” In our attempt to be superwomen, we alienate those people who most want to know us.
We miss out on real friendship with Jesus. Jesus wants us to face our reality so that we can move forward and become the person He created us to be. If we continually push away our sin, He can’t restore us. If we continually refuse to acknowledge our strengths and skills, He can’t partner with us to reach others with His gospel of grace. Above all, Jesus wants us to know we are known.
Our relationships with others are inextricably linked to our relationship with Jesus. As Curt Thompson says in Anatomy of the Soul, “We all tend to do with God exactly what we do with the people in our lives.”
Take a minute to reflect on your relationships with the following questions: How deep are your friendships? Do you ever admit your needs, hurts, or dreams? Do you believe that because your situation is hard but not the hardest, it’s not worth talking about? How does this parallel your relationship with Jesus?
If you struggle with deflecting, you’re not alone. Use the following practices to rewire your “muscle memory” and develop even better friendships:
- Start by finding people you can trust. This is a process that takes time. It starts by revealing small things at first. If your confidence was respected and kept, you’re free to talk about even bigger things.
- Then share more about your dreams, hurts, sins, or worries. My hope is that my friends can share the good, the bad, and the ugly with me. I feel so valued when people share a struggle and ask me to pray. Yet I’m hesitant to share these things myself. So I’m practicing that a little bit at a time, I share more of the real me, you know the one behind the mask.
- Ask for and accept help. Achievers tend to be the givers, but not good receivers. We view the need for help as a sign of weakness, but it’s actually a sign that we understand the reality of our limits. Your friends would love to lavish you with kindness just as you have with them. I promise.
- Acknowledge that your situation is hard. Acknowledging your situation means that, instead of moving away from the pain, you’re moving into it. This will help you navigate it wisely. And please, don’t compare your circumstances to those of others. Last I checked, living with difficult situations isn’t a competition. If something is hard for you, it’s hard. Period.
- Ask God to search your heart. Ask Him to help you pinpoint hurts that may be buried and to heal those hurts that are close to the surface. God is in the healing, restoration, and redeeming business.
As a curious inquisitor, it was only a matter of time before I perfected the art of asking questions, but unfortunately, I’ve also mastered evading them, and the cost has been so high. I’ve missed relationships in my attempt to be need-free, others-focused, and unknown. I’ve worked myself to exhaustion because I refused to ask for help. I’ve swept my hurt under the rug, but it’s leaked out anyway. I’ve postponed being restored because I didn’t want to face the pain.
Achievers, let’s stop deflecting and start living in a reality that says it’s okay to be in community and to be known fully by God. Doesn’t that sound way better?
