Relationship Core

Just the other night, I was at a summer cookout with several members of my congregation. There was food, activities, and good conversation. I took part in a little bit of everything, but ended up spending most of my time talking with another brother who I had only been vaguely acquainted with before. He and I talked at length about our different careers, our families, and various stories from our past. Afterward, I thought about the activity and the conversation, and it struck me how experiences like those help me to feel like I’m a genuine part of my community. They build up familiarity and understanding with one another, and that has great value in a world increasingly starved for human connection.

At the same time, it also struck me how that alone just isn’t enough. The activities were fun, the food was good, and the lengthy reminiscing with the other man was substantive, but none of it got to my real core. No one there saw the depths of my heart like my brothers in recovery have.

But personally, I think that’s okay, because I know where I can get that deeper connection. It’s okay to have different circles of relationships: acquaintances, neighbors, coworkers, and family, each of which I share different degrees of myself with. It is okay to let them get to know me as far as they want to, but not go beyond what they’re comfortable with or what is appropriate for the situation. It’s okay, because I know that I’ll always have my core group who know me on the deepest level, who will remain secure in their love and brotherhood for me, even with all my greatest hopes and shames laid bare. Because I have that core, I am able to accept every other relationship for what it is.

It wasn’t always this way, though. Years ago, my layers of relationships were missing their core. Back then, long conversations with the neighbor a few nights ago would have scratched one itch, but also exposed a deeper and unsatisfied one. That experience would have reminded me of my yearning for a best friend, a spiritual brother, but I wouldn’t know how to meet that need. I would awkwardly use childhood tactics with the men who I thought liked me best. Something like, “hey, want to come over and play a game together sometime?” Even if they said yes, it still wouldn’t be what I wanted. They might come over and hang out, and it would be nice and all, but I would still be left dissatisfied, and I wouldn’t even know why.

What I know now is that what I always needed, and what I believe everyone needs, is someone that I could be totally honest with. Someone that I could tell everything to. And, speaking from personal experience, total honesty with God alone just doesn’t cut it. I believe that all of us need to find complete honesty with another walking, breathing human being. It’s just something that we’re wired to need.

Obviously, being totally honest with another person is a scary thing, and it is too rarely modeled in our everyday relationships. To that I say, we must go to the places where that honesty exists, even if we’re not totally ready to lay everything on the table. A great place to start is to look up the nearest “X anonymous” group, where X is whatever we’re most afraid to be open about. If we go where people are willing to be totally honest, it becomes easier to pull the curtains back bit by bit, whereas if we stay where people are partially closed off and never connect at the deepest level, it feels like our innermost cravings can never be filled.

At the very least, that’s the way it worked for me. Like I said, I used to lack any deep and intimate spiritual relationships. I used to refuse to be totally honest with anyone. I never let any other person know the real me. But then, as an act of faith, not knowing what to expect, I finally let my guard down. I opened my heart to a therapist who was a true brother in Christ. I went to the Warrior Heart bootcamp. I started attending Sexaholics Anonymous. I allowed myself to be fully seen by men who I now consider my true brothers. I felt loved and secure in their fraternity, and that taught me how to be loved and secure in my Savior. So as I said earlier, I don’t wander around with an empty hole in my heart these days. Today I am able to have a polite conversation with my neighbor, and it is good in its place, and I can have full vulnerability with my recovery brothers, and it is good, too.

By Abe, Writing Team