I just finished reading The Help, Kathryn Stockett’s novel about African American maids and the white families they hold together in 1960s Jackson, Mississippi.
In the novel, two maids and a well-to-do white woman collaborate to write a book about the experiences of these domestic workers. Throughout The Help, all three must alternately reveal and conceal aspects of their identities in order to write the book, all the while keeping its existence a secret from their families and the women for whom they work.
At the end of the book, the chief protagonist Aibileen reaches a crossroads in her life. Wary but hopeful, she declares herself “free” or, at least, “freer” than her employer “who so locked up in her own head she don’t recognize herself when she read it.”
Among its many points about race relations, tradition, and sisterhood, the book’s focus on this question of identity – of seeing oneself – is the one that resonated most for me.
The Help made me reflect on the different fronts I present to the world. Just as I have different voices for different audiences, I also show different faces to different folks. I am a mother, a teacher, a friend, a worrier, a reader, a thinker, a daughter, a comedienne, an athlete, a sister, a singer, a pop culture junkie, a believer, a doubter, a writer.
It’s a dance, really, trying to figure out how much to show and how much to cover up. A striptease that may – or may not – leave anything to the imagination.
When I’m not feeling generous toward myself, I think that I am too much of a people-pleaser. Too anxious to connect that I allow myself to become whatever it is someone else might want me to be. Too outwardly focused that my faces are merely facades, masks reflecting back to others whatever it is they might want to see. (Lindsey wrote beautifully about her own people-pleasing tendencies last week.)
But when I am dealing more gently with myself, I think that maybe I am like a stone – maybe even a gem? – with multiple facets. And all of the surfaces I show are authentic. All part of me. Just different parts of me. Pieces of me that make up the whole.
And all is well as long as I never succumb to the fate of Aibileen’s employer, unable to recognize myself even when looking in the mirror.
To whom do you reveal the most facets of your identity?
Image: Day 36, Little Gems memories by Andreas-photography via Flickr under a Creative Commons license.
{ 64 comments… read them below or add one }
Kristen, thank you again for starting off my day with something to think about an mull over. Plus, I plan to add “The Help” to my reading list.
A few different people close to me over the years have called me an onion. I have many layers. It’s an accurate analogy but it’s certainly not as attractive as your faceted gem image. I’m sure my husband knows me and my facets the best. But at the same time, there are a few that I know exist but he doesn’t… yet.
Also, between you and Aidan I have a new way to describe my blog… a vunerable striptease. Thanks!
As you’ve probably noticed, I love metaphors and the onion one certainly works too. Like you, I think my husband is probably the person who sees the majority of my facets. I sometimes wonder if he even sees ones I don’t.
Sparkling, casting light, and reflecting everywhere Kristen. Beautiful!
Thank you, Ronna.
Kristen – Once again, you’ve touched on such an important and difficult issue. If we want to live authentically, is it wrong to use slightly different versions of our self as we go through our day? I don’t necessarily think so. Maybe we are nurturing different aspects of our identity at different times, in different situations. As long as we aren’t presenting a false identity, it is okay.
This is especially hard for us people-pleasers, isn’t it? Oh, some days I wish I was brash and incredibly direct and just didn’t care what others thought.
I hope I’m most true and revealing with my husband. Probably also my therapist. Unfortunately, I’m not especially “naked” with my parents or with some of my friends. I need to think about this – why am I resistant to sharing more? What am I afraid of?
I’m still feeling kind to myself this morning, Eva, and so I’m sticking with the assertion that all of the versions of ourselves that we use are legitimate, all part and parcel of our identity. And I think there are far worse emotional crimes than trying to make other people happy – as long as, in doing so, we aren’t making ourselves *un*-happy. (And that is a slope down which I sometimes slip.)
I continued to think about this post on my drive into work. In the novel, The Help, one of the white employers doesn’t recognize herself as described by the maid. Which brings up the question how is the way we perceive ourselves different than the way others perceive us. Which perception is more accurate?
Now I really want to read this book.
That, PLR, is a great question. Do I feel another blog post coming on?
I like that gentler, kinder, notion so much. A gem with many facets. I’m going to tuck that idea away in my brain and hopefully pull it out when I’m being hard on myself. We people-pleasers are odd birds, aren’t we.
I decided we deserved to be a little easier on ourselves today – me and all of my friends here who are quick to criticize ourselves. (And now that I see via Twitter that your day is already full of vomit, I think you definitely deserve at least a day of calling yourself a gem!)
I like to think that all the different parts of me that I present to the world are just parts of the “real” me, but I’d be lying if some of my persona’s aren’t constructed and sometimes uncomfortable. Usually this happens when meeting new people, I try to too hard to be who I think they “expect” me to be. The only person who really knows all facets of me is my husband. He sometimes knows what I’m thinking before I recognize it myself. It’s thrilling to have that level of comfort with another person. After almost 18 years, it’s not surprising, but it’s reassuring to have him as my safe place nonetheless.
Christine, I love the way you describe your husband as your “safe place.” Such a beautiful metaphor. Do you read Lindsey at http://www.adesignsovast.com? She has written a lot of powerful pieces lately about seeking that safe feeling.
This sort of goes with the different voices we use. I don’t think we totally lose ourselves in doing this, I think we are trying harder to relate to someone we see on that same level as ourselves. I look at it as you say faceted or diversified. We are many things that make us complete.
Love this line: “We are many things that make us complete.” Reminds me of Whitman’s Song of Myself: “I am large, I contain multitudes,” which, in retrospect, would have been a wise line to quote in this post. Thanks for continuing the conversation, SuziCate!
I am so going looking for this book today while I’m out!
It’s interesting that you wrote about this, because I have an almost identically themed post in my draft folder waiting to post tomorrow. I just added a link to this post to it…
I came to a different conclusion in my post – I had a slightly different issue to begin with anyway – but I really like your comment on the facets. It’s an idea I’ve recently come across in reference to God so I can see it applying to myself… I’ll have to go think/journal about it a bit this week! Thanks.
Yours,
Megan
I look forward to reading your post tomorrow, Megan. I love discussions that start with a post, extend to the comments section, and then continue with other posts.
I love this post. I think using our many facets and faces to our advantage is only natural. We do so in life, in the many roles we play, and we do so as writers, as we change things up for our various communication purposes.
It’s all good.
Thanks, BLW. I hadn’t mentally made the connection between in-person role-playing and writerly role-playing while writing this (how could I not have, I wonder?), but yes, absolutely: as it goes in speaking, so it goes in writing.
Kirsten–I love you netting out what you learned from The Help! Is it worth reading? You know, I see it on the bestseller list but I just feel like it’s going to disappoint…..
In terms of what we show each ‘audience’ — I think I have become happier as I vary *less* in what I show people. That is, my ‘authentic self’ feels more integrated–that the values, core is the same though the communication may change. I think women sometimes struggle in work/life balance because they feel they have to be sooo different in the office than they are on the playground. Of course there are differences–but I am trying to be less hesitant of being my true self. In all contexts.
Thanks for your comment, Katy.
I enjoyed *The Help*, but I didn’t love it. I usually plow through books, but, with this one, I felt its length. Having just started to get to know your reading taste from your reviews at Book Snob, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend that you move it to the top of your queue – at least wait till it comes out in paperback.
As for faces and facets, it sounds like you are a few steps ahead of me evolutionarily. For a long time, I felt guilt about my malleability. Now I’m trying to accept the different sides of my personality. Hopefully, I too will get to a place where I can find and then embrace that which feels like the truest version of me.
The Help has been on my mental list since hearing the author interviewed on NPR. Thanks for the reminder!
My husband and my best friend (two different people) know me best in the world. People think of you as you were at the point when THEY met you – i.e. to people I knew when I was single and living in the city, I was cool and daring and lived in a warehouse before anybody else. To the moms who met me when I was a sleep-deprived, frazzled mom of young kids, I was stressed and poorly dressed. To my clients, I am calm and professional. To my kids, I am often impatient. One of my boys called me on that one day: “Mom, why are you always so nice to people on the phone?” Ouch. But yes, different facets of the same person. We all have them.
Jennifer, I still think you’re cool, even if you don’t live in a warehouse.
I love hearing about your soul searching because it resonates so truthfully and feels a little difficult. Makes me remember that these searches are important and worthwhile!
I try to reveal myself. I try not to reveal myself. I am an open book with a possible ulcer from hiding so many of my feelings. Does that make sense?
It makes sense to me, Camille. I’m starting to think the most important thing we can do is to keep asking ourselves the big questions. Some days our answers will make us feel like open books; some days we will recognize how much of ourselves we are hiding. But I have to believe all of it is worth the energy to ask.
I adore this response.
I’ve been wanting to read this; now I definitely will. I think my kids get the most of my many sides. Probably because of the amount of time and years involved in those relationships. Don’t know if that’ sgood or bad; it just is.
I’m too much of a people-pleaser too. This becomes less of an issue in one’s 40′s; I promise.
These days I spend more time with my kids than with my husband, so maybe they are actually the ones who see the most of me. And sometimes that’s literally true when I find myself bringing them into the bathroom stall with me at the mall. Too much information? :)
I read The Help last month and enjoyed it very much. It was amazing that Ailbeleen’s employer did not even recognize herself in the pages of the book.
I love your analogy to a cut gem–multi faceted, textured, eager to catch the sun. From the words you write, that seems so fitting of you.
Thank you, Terry, for your kind words.
Oh my gosh, Kristen, this is the book my book club and I are discussing tomorrow! How funny. First of all, I LOVED the book, and to see this aspect of it, to read your thoughts, well it will bring a whole new dimension to our meeting, b/c I plan to share this post with them!
As far as who I show all of my sides to…well, that’s Hubby. For sure. He’s the only one who sees it all. I am lucky he gets it all, even though admittedly, he doesn’t like it all. I like the gem analogy…I do have so many different sides and it’s hard for me to reconcile being my true self, unapologetically, and knowing which sides are appropriate for whom and when.
You’ll have to let me know how your book discussion goes. The Help certainly gives us a lot to talk about, doesn’t it?
To me, the most resonant word in your comment is “unapologetically” – this is, as you know, something I struggle with in my own life: doing what I want, being true to who I am, regardless of what anyone else might think.
I’m in agreement with Eva. Since communication is so vitally important in our culture, we can be more effective if we adapt our communication styles to the person or people with whom we are speaking. If we present information in a way that makes sense to them so they can understand it more readily, then our jobs are easier. Humans are amazingly adaptive creatures.
Diane, I like the way you frame this idea in a positive way. I sometimes fall into the habit of putting an unnecessarily negative spin on my habits – and, in this case, I think it’s okay to go easy on the judgment.
Another great, thought-provoking post!
I’d have to say the only one who knows all the facets would be my husband. Like LittleMochaMom said, my husband is my “safe place.”
I like all these votes of confidence for so many husbands out there!
Maybe it’s through all our different relationships that the totality of our selves is reflected back to us—helping us wake up and realize that our true Selves are much more than even our myriad facets, that our true Selves are to be understood in the collective.
Maybe Lucy’s in the sky with her diamonds, and Kristen’s certainly sparking in her writing with her gems of wit and wisdom… but only the group can really know all the secrets and the splendors of its members.
Thanks, Bruce, as always. I love this idea that we are more than the sum of our parts – sort of like the gem, I suppose, in which the beauty transcends the collection of the individual facets. And the suggestion that identity is shaped in part by what others see and come to understand about us: worthy of more reflection.
In honor of your “pop culture junkie” facet, I thought this appropriate:
“I have many layers to me. And they’re not all vanilla, either. I have chocolate in me. I have a deep dark chocolate layer.”
So sayeth George Clooney in “One Fine Day.” And I would add: I think blogging is such a great way to show all of our “layers,” especially since we’re writing to people who don’t really know us. We can be open about all aspects of our personality (and feel less judged?).
Appropriate, indeed, considering my pop culture passion, my feelings on George Clooney, and my love of chocolate!
And I think you make a really important point about the freedom blogging gives us to explore all of our facets.
There are many analogies that address the concept you bring up here – that we are not one single thing all the time. But I think I may like the faceted gem analogy best. Each facet is on the surface, in plain sight depending on which way you are facing.
I too read this book and have been pondering a post on it (from a different angle) for a while now. I think you’ve inspired me to quit bouncing it around in my head and finally write it. Thanks for the kick in the pants!
I’ll be interested to see your take on *The Help*, Gale. I would enjoy more conversation about it, especially because I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as many seemed to, and I’m wondering if there was something I missed.
I’ve enjoyed reading your take on the book (both in your post and in the comments). I enjoyed the book but there was one thing that bothered me the entire way through – Abileen’s dialect and her penchant for reading the classics. It really bothered me that her grammar/conversation was so primative for someone reading as much as was implied. But I digress…..
I reveal the most of myself to you all, my blog readers/comment readers. I’m not nearly as open or honest in real life. I’m a master of the “smile and nod” or the white lie. Something I’m not very proud of.
I hadn’t really considered that point about Aibileen, Jane, but now you’ve got me thinking…
My husband sees it all, and he still loves me. That says a lot about him. But I don’t think I could be married to anyone if I didn’t share it all. I learned a long time ago that I’m not good at hiding my feelings; it’s a sort of dishonor. (Now, I’m not talking about hiding my feelings about something that might hurt another’s feelings. In those cases, it’s often good to keep quiet.)
Your comment has me reflecting back on the two serious relationships I had before I met Husband. In one, I was very young and was still shaping my facets. In the other, I did a fair amount of polishing some and scratching the others so as to come closer to what I thought he wanted me to be. But with Husband I am able to show all of them, whenever I like. He might not be thrilled by all of them, but he accepts them all as part of me.
I keep hearing about that book, I really must check it out. It sounds fantastic.
I did like it. I can’t quite put my finger on why I didn’t love it. But it’s certainly worth a read.
We are reading this book for book club this month, now I am extra excited to start it!
I was thinking along the same lines today. How blogging captures snapshots of what I am at the moment. Even though they don’t always show me as the same person, they are all authentically me. I love the many faceted gem analogy.
And I love your snapshots metaphor. A blog as a photo album containing many true pictures of us.
Kristen, what a thought provoking post! I think I am most myself with my husband and sister…because I feel safe with them. No editing, no versions, just me. And they STILL love me in spite of all the “warts” that go with the real me…
I think that might be a sign of true love (romantic or platonic): a willingness to put away the editing pen and be yourself, all versions of yourself, all at once.
The people who’d see the most facets of me would have to be the ones who are stuck with me the most – my kids. And, I hate to say it, but when they hit the teen years, they always stand next to you muttering about what a phony you are when you do this kind of stuff – altering the way you talk to be malleable in the outside world. At least that’s the way it was until I read my son the riot act and told him to cut it out. It’s hard to live with a constant critic.
But I will say that this discussion brings a whole different thing to mind, Kristen. It makes me think about the people whose company I don’t enjoy the most any longer and, now that I think of it, I realize it’s people who have locked me into a static box of “who I am,” and whatever it is it’s a stereotype of me. It might have to do with education, beliefs, child-rearing, economic level, whatever, but their conception of me is felt by me and makes me feel uncomfortable in the relationship.
I hate to say it, but family members tend to do this the most. And that’s all I’ll say about that today!
Linda, this is such an interesting point about other people’s determination to freeze us at a certain point in time. I wonder the extent to which I do this to other people. (And, you know, given your point about family being the people who do this most of all, I suspect that I do this quite a bit to my younger brother. I still baby him even though he’s 28!)
I also love love the gem analogy. I have far too many facets than I actually know what to do with. And very few people see them all. I think I show most of my sides to the blog community since that’s why I actually write my blog… so I have this place to truly BE ME. I don’t love all sides of me and wish I could shave down some of the facets sometimes but for the most part, all of the angles make us sparkle that much more and we should be proud of each and every one of them.
Perfect: “all of the angles make us sparkle that much more and we should be proud of each and every one of them.” Because it’s not just about the facets, it’s about the edges too, isn’t it?
It seems that my nights are getting later and later these days. Sigh. It is nice, though, to end each day with your thoughts.
I wish I could add something more to this conversation but my mind seems to have run out of batteries.
Know that I’m here. Reading and thinking. Even if they happen separately. : )
Reading and thinking only occasionally happen simultaneously for me too. Good thing I’m not teaching anymore!
In the second paragraph I meant “my mind.” I guess I am tired.
Kristen,
Such a beautiful post about something we all know so well. Your words always cause me to question and wonder. Thank you for being you, for writing these words that come from your voice.
Thank you, Julie.
My mom and I were just talking about this the other day ~ how it would be worthwhile if you could see yourself as others see you. In particular I was referring to younger family members and the all to pervasive lack of confidence that lives in such beautiful, intelligent and creative individuals. Maybe to know the truth of it all might be a bit painful, but definitely I think, not as bad as an unhealthy illusion lived as reality.
Thanks for these resonant words, Karal: “Maybe to know the truth of it all might be a bit painful, but definitely I think, not as bad as an unhealthy illusion lived as reality.”
This is yet another thought-provoking post. You could tell by the comments you got that you have struck yet another cord! My major is part Performance Studies & one of the first books we read was Ervin Goffman’s The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. His basic point is that, contrary to the “essence” of oneself in the Aristotelian philosophy, like the peeling of onion (so when you get to the “core” you will find a true self), there is no true self. There is no one single self. We all “perform” a role in each different social situation accordingly. Reading his theoty helped me ease a lot of anxiety. I felt less like a fraud. I hope this makes sense.
It makes perfect sense. I am woefully under-read when it comes to philosophy, but I am vaguely familiar with the Aristotelian idea you mention – and the onion metaphor that extends from it. But I love the spin that Goffman puts on it – the more I think about it, the more I agree.
By the way, I love that you are now “subWOW” instead of “submom”!