This morning I asked a close friend of mine how he enjoyed his weekend.
“Educational,” he said.
Alarm bells rang in my head.
“Okay, Larry. What went wrong?”
“My wife and I had dinner Saturday night with Peter and his wife. We’ve known them for a long time. Peter is a very successful businessman. When the waiter gave us the check, Peter suggested we split the cost. This was despite the fact that he and his wife ordered more expensive meals, and also three glasses each of a very expensive wine. My wife and I split one dinner, and one glass of house wine between us.”
“I’ve been in that situation many times myself,” I said. “So what did you do?”
“I was unhappy, of course. It was clearly unfair. But I didn’t argue because I didn’t want to make a scene. As a result, I paid a lot more than I should have, and woke up in the middle of the night kicking myself.”
I don’t blame Larry one bit. To keep the peace, I’ve swallowed many costs in my own life. In effect I’ve volunteered to let the takers do exactly what takers like to do –take advantage of me.
Larry wanted to avoid a conflict and, in effect, disappeared. I have done the same thing in similar situations.
I was particularly interested in Larry’s experience because last year I began to write a novel entitled, The Man Who Disappeared. My novel features the story of a man who swallows more and more abuse from others, to the point where ultimately there is very little left for him to meet his own emotional or financial needs.
Now, I have a favor to ask. I’d like you to share with me your own stories, or stories of other people you know who have, in effect, “disappeared.” By “disappeared” I mean they didn’t assert themselves when they should have. From what I’ve read in the press, Muhammed Ali was asked many times to pay someone’s rent or give them a loan, and he often did. There is no question that Muhammed Ali was generous. There may be a question of whether he was diminished, or in part disappeared, because he allowed himself to be taken advantage of.
What is the balance? That’s what I’m trying to figure out by writing The Man Who Disappeared, and I’d like to know your experiences on this subject.
You can contact me by email at Alan@peopletoolsbook.com
Please write. Get it off your chest. Don’t disappear on me. We’re all in this life together.
Thanks.
Alan
and I hope for you is unchanging, is the consideration you have for each other. I wish for you a certainty that, whatever comes, whether hurt or happiness, help or hunger, you will retain a deep understanding and appreciation for the gift you have been given; the opportunity to share life’s most intimate journey.
This is the inscription over the gate to Hell in Dante’s Divine Comedy. Until recently, I’ve found these words chilling. After all, it’s a greeting at the entrance to Hell, which is supposed to be a pretty nasty place, and who would want to live, or die, with no hope?
supervisor or earning more money. I felt disappointed for him.