The Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth?
I am the type of person who, when I get in my car, clean my house, run, or work out, my music is loud.
The freedom to have my music loud has been the number one reason I would never return to living in an apartment in a million years.
I have lived in my home for more than ten years, and during that time, no one has ever complained about my music being too loud.
That is, until I got a new neighbor this year.
On the first day I met him, he stopped me on my path to my front door after I had returned home from work. He introduced himself, told me where he is from and what he does for a living, and then asked me about myself.
I was not comfortable with that alone. I don’t share anything one-on-one with people I don’t know.
Wrong or right- my intuition told me I should be guarded with him.
Then he asked me, “Do you know who plays their music so loudly in their car in the morning? I asked the other neighbors, and they all said they didn’t get up that early.”
I told him, “That has to be me, when I leave for work- but I have been here for years, and no one has ever complained. I don’t have a super special sound system in my car, and the volume never goes up to the max until I get out of our gated community…”
I apologized for disturbing him and promised to keep it lower.
I believe in respecting others' feelings and space, so I know I said the right thing, but his words get under my skin every morning until I get further away from home, so I can turn up my music as loud as I want.
That was my first meeting with him- my second meeting with him didn’t make me any happier.
There was a knock at my door that day, and I remember being frustrated with the interruption while writing one of my stories.
I do not like anyone coming over unannounced.
If my ex-roommate wanted to pick up his mail, he would have called me.
If it were family, they would have called first.
No one else comes to my house.
I quickly went to the door, looked out the peephole, and saw my neighbor.
I took a long, indrawn breath and tried to hide my irritation as I opened the door.
“Hello, David,” I said (The thought crosses my mind that I don’t like that he has the same name as my brother- just as quickly, I tell myself that is not nice.)
He said, “Hi, Camilla- Did you get the notes I left on your door? I have been wanting to talk to you.”
No longer hiding my impatience, I told him, “Yes. But I think I told you I work a lot the first time we spoke.”
He said, “I understand. That's why I left my phone number so you could call me.”
My son Daniel had just come downstairs to see what was happening and stood behind me at the door.
I told David, “I went next door to your house yesterday to find out what you wanted to discuss, and you weren’t home. I am not calling you because, as a store manager, I take calls at all hours. I have enough people calling me outside of work about work, and I don’t want more phone calls outside of those. I don’t give out my number.”
At this point, Daniel had to give his input: “David, don’t be offended. It’s not just you; my Mom doesn’t like people. My Mom is an introvert and only deals with people at her job because she has to.”
Now thoroughly even more exasperated, I said “Daniel, I love you, but let me handle this conversation, please. And David, why don’t you show me what you talked about in your note in the backyard?”
Later, after David showed me how he wanted to tear down and rebuild the wall between our homes, and he was gone, I asked Daniel to come downstairs to talk.
I told Daniel, “Daniel, you didn’t need to tell him I don’t like people.”
He said, “Mom, it’s the truth. You would rather have time to yourself than be around people constantly. You are not a people person like me.”
I told him, “It is not that I don’t like people. I say that sometimes because I need space from their energy- you know that affects me. But I say that to you, and it is not something you should repeat. I am an introvert and prefer more alone time, but that's because I need that. I put out fires all day, listen to customers, vendors, and the team, and am busy with work. When I get home, I need space to think about important things outside work, like my personal life. I want to have time to reflect on my feelings and center myself in my truth, away from the influence of others' needs, wants, and feelings.
Please remember what Billy and I have always tried to teach you. You have to read the room and recognize social cues.”
Daniel defended himself and said, “Mom, this is another reason I should not have been homeschooled. You keep trying to teach me this stuff, but I would have learned all of this already had I gone to a real school. I probably would have had people who would get angry at me for the things that I say instead of being allowed to say pretty much whatever I want at home because you love me unconditionally.”
Sighing, I replied, “I didn’t want you to learn the hard way like I did. I didn’t want you to feel like you must be someone you are not because of others' influence. I handled that as a teenager, but I was stubborn and ended friendships when people tried to change me. You were not that way. I told you before, I saw it when you were little with all your girl cousins, if they were mean to you, you would do things for them or try to play whatever they wanted to play to be a part of their circle. I worried you would be a follower to fit in because of pressure. Fitting in was important to you. It was never important to me.”
I spoke to my Brother and told him, “David, I need your help with Daniel. He is not listening to the advice I am giving him about interviews. I swear, because I am his Mom, he knows better than I, but if you tell him the same thing I am telling him, I know he will listen, just like he listened more to what Billy said over me.”
I could not reach my son, so asking his uncle for help was the only solution.
A week ago, Daniel got angry at me because I gave him my negative input on his interview.
“You shouldn’t have told them all that. Daniel, you must be careful about what you say during interviews.” I had just gotten home with Daniel from an interview I took him to. He told me that he told them everything he didn’t like about his past boss during the interview.
“Mom, they asked me what I didn’t like about my past job, so I told them- I am not going to lie like you lie every day.”
I asked him… “What-what are you talking about?”
He said, “Mom, when people would call out sick, you would be upset that you would have to work a double, but you wouldn’t say anything. Instead, you would be nice because they were sick, even though half the time, you didn’t even believe they were sick.”
Try as I might, I had the hardest time making Daniel understand that sometimes, in different circumstances, despite what you think or feel, you must not say everything, and that omitting certain things does not necessarily mean lying.
I can not convince him that not disclosing everything is the right thing in some situations, and I admit that at the end of half of these conversations, I ask myself, Am I the one who is wrong?
On Mother's Day, I had to call my boss at my part-time job. “I am really angry right now at a family member of one of the residents, but I am calling you because I know what I just did was wrong. I responded to something he said in a way I should not have.”
She asked me, “What happened?”
I told her, “A son of one of the residents just got angry with me for helping his mother. He told me that he knows I was trying to be helpful with his mom, but he would prefer that I don’t get involved in the future. And then he proceeded to tell me that his mom is old, and then he said two more derogatory remarks about his mom.
Before I could bite my tongue, I couldn’t help the words from escaping my mouth.
Angry with his coldness toward his mom, I told him I was directed to help her and that I believed someone needed to help her. He responded that he was. I told him that was not what I understood from your mom. He said, of course, that is what she told you, and then he walked away from me.
My weekend notes directed me to help her, so I did. She cried while I helped her with what she needed and told me no one else was helping her. When I see or hear of someone being mistreated, it is hard for me not to say something, especially given the opportunity.”
My boss emailed me to say I was not in trouble, but this was a learning moment about avoiding involvement with residents and their family members. She reminded me we can’t always go by what the residents say because every story has two sides.
Reflecting on this situation, here is an example where I expressed verbally what I felt to be true.
Was the truth as I saw it something that should have been said?
Daniel was not homeschooled until he was in junior high.
I am not sure of the choices I have made as a mom for my son. I did what I thought was right because I always wanted the best for him. In truth, I would have kept him in his Christian school past first grade if I could have kept affording it.
I remember that, in elementary school, I received a request for a parent-teacher conference. One of his teachers told me that Daniel was talking about his grandma dying and that he was expressing sadness over this. She told me that maybe I was sharing too much of my pain with my son.
I was angry over this because my mom always expressed how she felt with me, and I never felt like this was bad for me; it taught me to be aware of feelings and empathize with others.
I trusted in my mom to always love all the parts of me. She loved me when I was vulnerable, even if she preferred me to stay strong. She loved my truth, and she loved me unconditionally.
I love Daniel's truth, and I love him unconditionally, too.
Our truth should be honored and loved by ourselves and the people we are closest to.
But here is the truth:
The truth, and I mean the whole truth…
Yours and mine- it's not for everyone.