I recently watched the video “How Life Looks Through My Whale Eyes.”  It is a very short documentary made by James Robinson, a young man from Maine, to show his family what it is like to live with several disabling eye conditions that have not responded to treatments.  With humor and authenticity he reveals the sense of humiliation he has endured throughout his life in not being understood.  Bravely his family is put through a series of optical tests and is candid about their lack of awareness regarding his experience.

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/14/opinion/strabismus-vision-disability-relationships.html

What touches me the most is how his parents and brother, who obviously love him very much, are so open about how ignorant they are.  We can only imagine how these parents navigated a private journey of how to best support their beautiful son who they wanted to have all of life’s opportunities despite his disability.  But in doing so, James ends up feeling isolated and unseen.  In follow up to my last post, regarding needing to be more aware of what we don’t know, this really hit home for me in a deep manner regarding our ignorances.  Sometimes what we don’t know is because we are too afraid to ask.  This directly relates to our capacity to be vulnerable with the very people we want and need to be closest to.

One of the things that you learn as a therapist is how hard it is for people to share their most sensitive selves with the people most important to them.  Our work in therapy is often to peel back layers of shame and fear that serve as barriers between people. These walls most often create a deep sense of loneliness and disconnection as well as serve as a breeding ground for misunderstandings.  For example, just this past week, a woman who I work with who had gained weight during the pandemic shared about her self hatred in how she “disgusted” her husband.  Her conclusion was based on the fact that he hadn’t been as affectionate with her.  She battled herself and chided herself, and underneath became resentful of him which led to her withdrawal.  In sessions, we worked on her approaching her husband with her concern and desire to be close to him.  For her, the fear of rejection and the possibility of having her beliefs validated, was excruciating.  But when she finally did get up the courage, she learned he had his own demons lurking, feeling stressed about his cut in work hours during the pandemic and feeling like a poor partner who wasn’t “pulling his weight.”  The two were literally able to laugh at their own versions of self-inflicted “weight issues” and she reported feeling closer to him than she had in a long time.

I know, despite my awareness of these barriers with the people I work with, that I am guilty of it as well.  I will sometimes avoid asking questions to people in my own family because I am uncomfortable asking.  I worry that I’ll offend them or embarrass them and the last thing I want to do is cause them more pain.  But if I’m honest with myself, and this video brought this home to me, maybe it’s less about them and perhaps more about me that I am protecting.  I’m afraid of being uncomfortable and worst of all, the possibility that I will say the wrong thing which will make me feel like an insensitive fool, and worst of all, a bad mother.

“How Life Looks Through My Whale Eyes” teaches me that, most often, not asking is more hurtful than an awkward ask.  With silence and ignorance we send a message of disinterest, judgement, and fear.  We perpetuate misunderstanding and exclusion.  As Mr. Robinson says regarding his experience with others regarding his disability, “I don’t have a problem with the way that I see.  My only problem is the way that I’m seen.”