A Question of Value: Struggling

Sometimes we're so afraid of being hurt that we'll do anything we can to prevent it, whether it's healthy or not.

A man or woman buries themselves in work. One more meeting, one more project, one more promotion will make us feel validated. It's a rush to be recognized, to have an employer or fellow employee or student tell us "good job. You made a difference."But what happens when we go to work to get our validation rather than find it in a marriage of thirty years? Or we've just started a relationship and we can't let go of those Saturdays at the office, or an extra hour or two rather than spending time with the person we care about? It's fear of being hurt, fear of losing ourselves, or that the person we're with won't see us as wonderful, or we won't be enough. At work, why do people fight and backbite and gossip and try to take projects or complain about someone else getting a raise if it's not getting at this idea of value and the fear of losing it?

Our value doesn't come from our jobs.

A man is married to a beautiful woman and has children who love him, a great job, a wonderful home. Yet he masturbates rather than has sex with his wife, or sleeps with other women to feel like he still "has it," that he's still potent, that his value comes in his conquests, his virility, his sexual appeal. It's scarier to be vulnerable with the woman who's known him for years. She knows his flaws better, he can't hide them as well, and there's the risk that she'll criticize him for them, that he won't be enough. She's not always in the mood, and if he's honest, he isn't either. He doesn't always take the time to notice the things she does for him, or tell her he loves her, and when he's honest, she's more a mystery to him now than ever, or he feels like they've gotten in a rut and there's nothing new. He wonders if there's something else, somewhere else, if this is the life he was supposed to live, or if his value lies elsewhere.

She wonders if they need a bigger house, or more furniture, or new curtains on the window and new carpet in the living room. There's a new dress on sale, and shoes to match. Yet she wonders why the dress doesn't make her feel prettier after it's been washed a few times.

A poor man wonders what it would be like to be rich; a rich man wonders what it would be like to be richer; a single person wonders what it would be like to be married; a married couple wonders what it would be like to have kids; a teenager wonders what it would be like to have a car; a kid wonders what it would be like to have an amazing toy; a workingman or woman wonders what it would be like to be retired or on vacation in the Caribbean; a person in the nursing home wonders what it would be like to be young again or to have family once again around them. A dog wonders . . . who knows what dogs wonder, they seem pretty content as long as they have food, a place to run, and people to sniff.

We all long for something, and finding our value seems to be ever elusive, this hole in us, and sometimes we either close ourselves off from our dreams to keep from being hurt, to keep them from being snatched away, or we fight tooth and nail to hold onto the things we hold to be important, the things that make us feel validated.

In the day to day of that we make mistakes, we break things and hurt each other and enter families and workplaces and love and sports teams and social settings with these hurts and fears fighting within us. It's hard to lay down our armor and our swords. It's hard to say I'm sorry. It's hard to trust and become vulnerable with our greatest hopes and deepest fears, to be honest with the things that make us feel guilty, and it's hard to find our value, not in our jobs, or successes, or even relationships, but in something else entirely, more permanent.