I have written a few times about my relationship with my siblings, mostly describing passages of laughter and good times (see one of my previous posts titled “Laughing with Yourself”). However, growing up with them so closely has also created a sense of accountability among us, and I want to share this flip side of that coin. We are each other’s biggest supporters, and in that genuine love, well…we don’t let each other get away with shoddy living, and rightly so. Close-knit relationships bring a lot of beautiful moments, but painful ones also come with the territory. This doesn’t mean that we meddle in each other’s lives, but we will give our sincere opinion when invited to do so, and sometimes uninvited if we deem it necessary, even if it feels a bit uncomfortable. After all, I firmly believe that if someone sees me approaching a train wreck, I’d rather be told about it instead of them watching it play out and then saying: “I knew this was going to happen but didn’t want to tell you.” This is a shared belief among all my siblings, almost like a pact. I find this to be a significant cultural difference between my upbringing and the culture I live in today. In fact, I see such fear of overstepping the boundaries that some parents are willing to let their kids do something atrocious for the sake of letting them be who they are. Please don’t get me wrong on this: I fully believe in people having choice and learning from their mistakes. But I also believe that there are some red flags that can’t be ignored in our insatiable “pursuit of happiness” especially if it comes at the expense of others, and sometimes even ourselves.
One such instance happened when my brothers witnessed my bad behavior in front of a former friend. You see, I’ve been someone willing to die on my sword for the values I hold dear, and I’ve had to learn to be more accepting of others who don’t hold the same. When I was a university student, I became friends with a girl that I’ll call Lila (not her real name). I got to know her family very well and we did many things together including class projects, road trips, dinner parties, group singing, and many other fun things. I was nerdy and on the shy side, and she was energetic and busy. One day, Lila fell in love with a guy who had been into her for a while and they started formally dating. In the meantime, I was heartbroken by a guy who seemed interested in me and then ghosted me (this term did not exist yet in the mainstream lexicon). Lila got so busy with her new romance that you may anticipate what happened next: I became less important in her life and we ended up on separate roads all the way to graduation.
I was disappointed in Lila for what I saw at the time as her abandoning me. In retrospect, I was sad at the same time that she was happy and I probably became a drag in her budding romantic life, so fair enough. We were young then, and I did what I only knew to do in those days when I used to listen to sappy songs that helped me dwell in my perceived victimhood. I villainized Lila in front of my desolation as I felt left behind by her. A few years passed and I went to graduate school abroad, got married, and built a life elsewhere. However, the saying attributed to Confucius and part of today’s mindfulness movement reminds us that “wherever you go, there you are.” During one of my visits back home, I was sitting at a restaurant enjoying a nice dinner with my new husband and two of my brothers, when all of a sudden Lila approached our table, excitedly greeting us. My response was ice cold, and I barely said hello when she beamingly told me how good it was to see me. In my little mind, the last memory I had of Lila was painful, and that flavor of pain was the card I played at that moment. The wounded animal was still there, to that day unable to get over the painful scars still left in me.
Fortunately, my brothers were there and as they witnessed my momentary smallness, they quickly called me out on my bad behavior. This is one of the stories we still talk about today reflectively, and it’s no laughing matter when we do. They held me accountable and helped me gain perspective without shaming me, but I was embarrassed for how I reacted. They expected more from me, and they were right. This is one example of people lovingly “calling me out on the carpet” as my dear friend Alice used to say (and this time I’m using her real name). As years have passed and I continue to reflect on the big blunder I made that day, I remind myself of the damage we can inflict when we judge others based on our beliefs, which we erroneously may expect them to hold as well. I make no excuse for my bad behavior back then, but I did learn a lot from it. My brothers served as a mirror that reflected back an image of me that was neither flattering nor wanted by me. They continue to be sources of unconditional love, support, and accountability amidst triumphs and tribulations.
I do understand that we all want and need to have boundaries and also should use tact when we call each other out on bad behavior. We name accountability partners for diet, exercise, meditation routines and many other endeavors we pursue in life. So I’d suggest having at least one person who holds us accountable for how we treat or engage with others. It is that important in these days of unbridled conflict and petty disputes. Some people will not be open to this, and will walk away if they are held accountable by someone who means well. So it’s up to us to decide how viable a relationship is if there is no accountability ever involved.
If I saw Lila today I would give her a big smile to honor the many fun memories from those days when we were goofy and carefree. And I’d also do so because she unknowingly showed me the various tones that a relationship can develop – bright some days, dreary at other times – without having to be erased. I don’t think I’ll ever get a do over with her, but in the end I hold many more happy memories in the rearview mirror of our relationship. I healed from the pain and shed the victim mentality, which allowed me to see this passage of my life with a fresh pair of eyes and in a better frame. So thank you, Lila, wherever you are for your seemingly unending joy, bright outlook, and willingness to let go of the past. I should have recognized this in that unfortunate moment when we saw each other instead of giving you the cold shoulder. Still, I truly am better for it and owe it in part to you and my lifelong accountability partners. Going forward, I will continue to appreciate any accountability that is held with grace. As for you, reader, who is your relationship accountability partner?
