My mom was the queen of expectations. Despite being very helpful to me, particularly when my kids were young, her acts of service always came with an unspoken price tag.
Our relationship suffered because she expected me to do whatever she ‘expected’ of me without question—because I owed her—-and was incensed when I refused to do so.
Me, I totally rebel against the notion that I should be obliged to do anything I haven’t agreed on. I like to know what the deal is right up front so I can decide if the exchange is worth it. Frankly, if I even sense someone expects payback for a favor, I’ll shit on his or her front lawn.
Which is stupid, because we all harbor these little unspoken deals with one another, not just my mother. We get resentful when those closest to us fail to live up to them; when they fail to hold up their end of some mysterious bargain.
Take me, for instance. Sometimes I get mad at Walt when he refuses to read my mind and do what I want him to do. Like when he darts ahead of me on the hiking trail, like a spastic Golden Retriever, instead of hanging back to keep me company. Or when the bastard refuses to step in and solve a technical problem I’m obviously struggling with.
Hello? Tears? Like that’s not a clue?
I’ll smolder, thinking, After all I do.
And I know Walt gets pissy with me whenever he shovels the walkway or weeds the flower patch. He expects someone like me—a person with her head so far up her ass that she wouldn’t notice the house burning down around her—to recognize that he has gone outside in the first place, and that he could use some help.
He’ll come in the house saying shit like, “Clearly, it’s all on me!”
As a coach, I’m privy to many of my clients’ unspoken expectations. One is miffed that her husband won’t manage the money and eliminate their debt. Another wonders why her fool can’t see dirty dishes in the sink and loads of laundry on the floor. Another yearns for her partner to recognize how badly she hates her job, to step up to the plate and learn the associated tasks, then relieve her of the pain. And so on and so forth.
None of these women have actually sat down and hashed out an agreement with their partners, but, like me, they’re pretty clear on how they’re being failed.
Why don’t we tell people what we want? Why are we afraid to sit down and have a conversation, address the issues like two consenting adults? What’s so hard about negotiating each person’s wants and needs and coming to a mutual agreement?
How difficult would it be to say, “Hey, I’m going out to shovel, Ann, and I could really use a hand?”
Anybody? Anybody?
As if disappointment and resentment, rather than honesty, were so much healthier for the relationship.
Here’s my guess. I think that those of us raised by wolves:
- Have an awful time identifying what we want from other people.
- Have been taught to solve problems on our own.
- Are habituated to disappointment.
- Don’t expect life to be any different.
- Believe we lack the power to control outcome.
- Don’t know how to express our needs for fear of inviting chaos.
- Think we shouldn’t ask for help because doing so will signal weakness.
- Are afraid that if people refuse our request, we’ll have to face the fact that we’re just not worth it.
Even if you are among the 0.01% of the population who had a happy childhood, here’s the truth, at least as I see it. We’re all addicted to the lie that if they loved me enough, then they would see what I needed without me telling them. Which is a major setup if you think about it. Particularly when you’re dealing with the oblivious.
That’s so not fair. In our quest for proof that we’re unlovable, we use others to make our case.
Instead of loving ourselves and others, owning what we want and need, we prefer to silently blame.
Steve Chandler writes in his book Shift Your Mind, Shift The World, “Expectations are stories I believe about how others should behave. Yet, the more expectations I have the more I set myself up for disappointment. Because with no expectations, there can be no disappointment, only enjoying and challenging life as it is.”
So, how about giving you and everybody else around you a break by spelling out your deal?
