The Charade
5 Jun
“We thought you would get better as you got older, but apparently not.”
“What do you want from me?”
“To not lie to us! To tell us things! You don’t tell us anything!”
“You don’t exactly make it easy for me to tell you things.”
Almost a week after the car incident, my mom spontaneously comes up to me and accuses me of trying to cover up the accident.
“That’s absurd! It’s a huge dent. What did I think, oh, ‘If I don’t say anything, my mom is not going to notice this huge dent’? I’m not that stupid!”
“Well, I don’t know what you were thinking! Why didn’t you say something right away?”
“Because I came home after you went to bed and you left for work before I woke up! By the time you came home, you’d already formulated your own theory about how your car got hit in the parking lot. And I was the one who pointed out that that was impossible because the dent was below the bumper and no car hits that low. Why would I say that if I were trying to cover it up?”
But I already knew, this argument was not really about the car. We’d already put aside the car issue days ago. This was about something else.
“You’re always lying to us, we can’t trust you at all. I mean, you don’t trust us to tell us the truth. We’re family! You’re supposed to trust family!”
“Well if you don’t trust me, why would I trust you? You’re the parents, you should be the ones taking a leap of faith first.”
Clearly, she did not agree with me. The who-trusts-who-first was like a catch 22 in our relationship.
That night, I had trouble sleeping. There were some parts of the conversation that were stuck in my head.
You’re always lying to us…
We thought you would get better as you got older…
You don’t tell us anything…
As a teenager, I barely spoke to my parents, and it was no secret that I wanted to move out as soon as possible. Once I was in university, my relationship with my parents improved vastly (something my mom did not give me any credit for in our fight). Since our relationship was limited to phone calls and the occasional weekend visit, it was a lot easier for me to control what they knew about my life based on what I told them. This meant I lied a lot less, and they seemed to trust me more.
But the more I spend time at home, the more I am suffocated by their boundaries and judgments, and the more I start lying again to be able to do the things I want. If my mom wanted frank and open communication, did that mean I should tell her I wanted to go clubbing on Friday night, drink with my friends, and come home at 3 in the morning? I wanted to be a good daughter, which by my parents’ definition precluded drinking and clubbing. Did wanting these things make me irresponsible? What is so wrong about a 20-year-old who wants a girls night out with her friends? How would I make my parents understand without being judged as irresponsible? Did lying about this sort of thing to protect my reputation as far as my parents mean I was immature or was there something more to it?
Why did I systematically lie to them? Why did I withhold so much information? Clearly, my parents only knew half of the person I was, the half I wanted them to see. But why did I compartmentalize myself? When did I start?
I started searching online, although I wasn’t sure exactly what i was looking for. One result jumped out at me, and I read the article with keen interest.
It starts very young. Indeed, bright kids—those who do better on other academic indicators—are able to start lying at 2 or 3. [...] Although we think of truthfulness as a young child’s paramount virtue, it turns out that lying is the more advanced skill. A child who is going to lie must recognize the truth, intellectually conceive of an alternate reality, and be able to convincingly sell that new reality to someone else. Therefore, lying demands both advanced cognitive development and social skills that honesty simply doesn’t require. [...] And it’s the smart, savvy kid who’s most at risk of becoming a habitual liar.
So I know I started lying very early, and I know that I was a smart kid. Now that I have connected the two, I guess I can understand how I became a habitual liar. It’s nice to know that it isn’t just me, that I wasn’t somehow “born bad,” but it doesn’t explain why I continue to do it.
Many kids begin lying to their peers as a coping mechanism, as a way to vent frustration or get attention. Any sudden spate of lying, or dramatic increase in lying, is a danger sign: Something has changed in that child’s life, in a way that troubles him. “Lying is a symptom—often of a bigger problem behavior,” explains Talwar. “It’s a strategy to keep themselves afloat.”
[...] if lying has become a successful strategy for handling difficult social situations, a child will stick with it.
“A strategy to keep themselves afloat.” This certainly seems like a plausible explanation. I definitely used lying in the playground to manipulate my social standing. I once came up with a fantastic story about how my cousin was a beautician and her apartment had one room with walls and walls of make-up. I suddenly became more popular.
Most parents hear their child lie and assume he’s too young to understand what lies are or that lying’s wrong. They presume their child will stop when he gets older and learns those distinctions. Talwar has found the opposite to be true—kids who grasp early the nuances between lies and truth use this knowledge to their advantage, making them more prone to lie when given the chance.
Many parenting Websites and books advise parents to just let lies go—they’ll grow out of it. The truth [...] is that kids grow into it.
So this proves the fallacy in my parents’ logic about expecting me to “grow out of it.” The fact that I didn’t does not mean I am immature, irresponsible, or that my moral conscience did not take hold in my adult self. It just means that I am normal – that in weighing the risk of being caught and getting away with it, I became so good at lying that the risk of getting caught was barely a concern. This is certainly true of many secrets that I’ve kept from my parents, such as the fact that I drove around all Christmas while they were on vacation and I had no driver’s license. Or the fact that I came back to The City several times last summer without them knowing so I could go partying with friends. Sure, if I had gotten into an accident and had to call them, they would have felt embarrassed and foolish as parents who didn’t even know where their child was, but bar that sort of event, they were completely in the dark and I had no problems getting away with it.
But these are more examples of withholding information than lying.
By withholding details about their lives, adolescents carve out a social domain and identity that are theirs alone, independent from their parents or other adult authority figures. To seek out a parent for help is, from a teen’s perspective, a tacit admission that he’s not mature enough to handle it alone. Having to tell parents about it can be psychologically emasculating, whether the confession is forced out of him or he volunteers it on his own. It’s essential for some things to be “none of your business.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. I never sought help from my parents because I was always trying to prove that I was mature enough to handle it. To this day, my parents still don’t know about my credit card fiasco. Since it wasn’t my fault, I could have easily told my parents, gotten them to help me out in a time of financial crisis, and I wouldn’t have gotten so stressed out. But I didn’t, because in some twisted way, it was exhilarating to have such an “adult problem.” Having to deal with the travel company and the credit card company – I wanted to be able to say I did that all on my own, without sending my parents out to deal with it like a coward, like a child.
In fact, this applies to a broader domain. I do not seek out help period, because I am always trying to prove that I can handle it, whatever it may be. And that may lead to breakdowns, it may not, but for the most part, I am incredibly independent. Unnecessarily so, as I’ve come to realize.
When Nancy Darling’s researchers interviewed the teenagers from Pennsylvania, they also asked the teens when and why they told the truth to their parents about things they knew their parents disapproved of. [...] many teens told their parents the truth when they were planning on doing something that was against the rules—in hopes their parents might give in and say it was okay. Usually, this meant an argument ensued, but it was worth it if a parent might budge.
The average Pennsylvania teen was 244 percent more likely to lie than to protest a rule. In the families where there was less deception, however, there was a much higher ratio of arguing and complaining. The argument enabled the child to speak honestly. Certain types of fighting, despite the acrimony, were ultimately signs of respect—not of disrespect.
I respect my parents. Let’s just get that on the record. More often than not, they have good reasons for their rules, and they sometimes even share those reasons with me. And when they do, if they’ve persuaded me, I will cooperate. When I cooperate, it means I’ve adopted their reason, and what makes me cooperate is not coercion but agreement. For example, when we were arguing about my use of the car, my parents said they wished I wouldn’t go out late at night in bad weather. And that makes perfect sense to me. So next time, if I’m driving and it’s snowing or raining, I may reschedule whatever plans I had with friends. I have adopted this reasoning, which means I’ll continue to make it even if my parents didn’t say anything or weren’t present.
I also respect my parents because, for the most part, they treat me and my opinion with respect. Ever since I was 12, I have had a “say” in family decision-making. Things like whether I need a cell phone, where we should go vacation, even whether we should buy a new car (even though at that time, cars had nothing to do with me). My parents weren’t too bad at listening to me,
But what my parents were bad at doing was being flexible with their rules. Maybe it’s an Asian thing. Asian parents pride themselves on their strictness. It’s like a measure of their parenting skills, except in this case, it failed them. Because by being inflexible, that encouraged me to go around them rather than through them. If I asked them whether I could go to a party, even though their standard response would be “No,” it probably means I have already rejected five other party invitations and I have thought this one through for a long before I even brought it up with my parents. And if, after our argument, they still say ‘No,’ next time there’s a party I really want to go to, I will just lie to them.
If I were a fictional character in a book or a movie, the next day, I would have sat my parents down and told them all this. I would have had a calm conversation where no one raised their voice, and I would lay out everything I’ve discovered in a logical manner. I would not point fingers, blame them for their parenting mistakes, but I would make them understand that my lying and withholding information is not because I’m immature and childish, but because I have gotten reinforcement throughout my life that these behaviours work. They allow me to smooth out the contradicting demands of being a good daughter and a good friend and a good student and a good employee. I am a one-woman play, trying to play parts to please everyone, and ultimately, lying and withholding information are tools for me to control this play. And I have just gotten really, really good at it.
Ultimately, the conversation would end with my parents realizing that I was putting on this charade to project myself into the daughter they wanted me to be, but they could see that she wasn’t real. And they would agree to try to accept me for the person I am, all of me, so that at least I don’t have to put on the charade in front of them. And we might cry a little, and hug. And then we would prepare dinner together, and I would eat at the dinner table as me, nobody else.
That is what would happen if I were a fictional character.
But I am not. And I can’t get over the petty grievances. I can’t forgive my parents for things that I still resent. I can’t be the bigger person because I still believe that my parents, as parents, should be the bigger people, and I shouldn’t have to carry that psychological burden of parenting my parents.
That is the only childish thought I have, and it prevents me from having the conversation that might fix our relationship.
I know our parents are not infallible. They are not all-knowing, even though we think they are, and even though they act like they are. Every person’s weaknesses or mistakes can, in some way, be traced back to how they were brought up, and for that, we all need to forgive our parents for not being perfect.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive my parents and have that conversation. For now, I am leaving. I am going back to University Town, and I am taking my thoughts and my grievances and my disappointment in my parents with me. Because I am not ready to parent my parents. That is too grown-up for me.
i can sorta relate. my relationship with my mom growing up wasn’t all flowers and butterflies but it has slowly gotten better through the years, not to say that we don’t fight anymore, but we’ve both come to a compromise. I had to learn that my mom is…well, a mom and she WILL worry, she WILL overeact, but she would also bend backwards for me. I found that with honest communication, things slowly got better. i was honest to her about how she made me feel and she did the same and we came to an understanding from there. I can’t tell you what to do becuase its your life and pretty much only you and God know what’s up…but i do know that mother-daughter relationships can be mended, and they can turn into something beautiful. praying for you and your relationship with your mom and hope things get better :)
Oh. my. god.
Ok the future psychologist never read about childhood lying, but I identified with this on so many counts. I was also envisioning you as Lane on Gilmore Girls. Do you know what I’m talking about? She’s a totally good kid but she CAN’T be honest with her mom because of her mom’s Asian values. My parents aren’t Asian, but they share a lot of those values. I would LOVE to be able to be honest with them, but it just isn’t an option… so I lie. I know how they’d react and it would just be hell on earth if I was honest with them about a lot of things (i.e. alcohol, sex, etc.). I really don’t know what people who are in these situations should do… other than not be that kind of parent.
I can’t really relate with your parental problems. I come from a family where we can scream for 4 hours at each other and in the next 10 seconds be best buds. Although my relationship with my mother was hard during teenage years, in the long run I would always tell her everything. It’s horrible, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. My grandfather’s death brought us even closer.
Sure it is easier to lie to people and I know how it’s like to suffocate in boundaries (my aunt from my mother’s side) and just needing a breather. In the end, your relationship with your parents is yours to make or break, just make your decision wisely because in the long run you’re the one who has to live with that decision.
Best of luck and I do hope I’ll read a more positive post from you.
“In the end, your relationship with your parents is yours to make or break, just make your decision wisely because in the long run you’re the one who has to live with that decision.”
That’s a great comment. Thank you for that.
I think the logical, sensible side of me knows what I need to do, but I’ve been shutting them out for 15-17 of my 21 years. It’s hard for me to undo or unlearn that behaviour. And I was consciously trying to do better in the last three years, but it absolutely frustrates me when my parents let one little thing set us back so far (my mom’s accusation really fires me up) or when they don’t give me any credit for how far I’ve come.
These are the petty grievances that I just can’t seem to set aside. And for that, I am not really grown-up.
Everyone goes through something like this — don’t be too hard on yourself, but know that there is room for improvement. Whenever you get mad at your mom and dad, remember all the things they did for you. I mean for starters, your mom pushed you out of her gigi, and that probably wasn’t fun. I’m not trying to be all, “Obey thy parents” on you (I kind of am) but I think it’s awesome that you went away for school. Your relationship with your parents will improve because this is a changing time for everyone. Be patient, be honest and if you expect them to accept you for you, then you have to accept them for who they are, too– cross cultures and all.
P.S. I scratched the whole side of my mom’s car in the parking garage at my work last year. Oops;)
I definitely know there is room for improvement, but it’s just hard for me to picture it, you know? It’s like I’ve become so used to our dysfunctional relationship that it appears normal through my eyes, and I can’t really imagine a healthy relationship because that seems like it only exists within the confines of Gilmore Girls (a show I detest with every bone in my body – I guess that says something about what I think about THAT).
And we have improved quite a bit since I went to university. I guess I just thought that we’d come farther than we actually did, if something like this set us back so far. It was really a slap in the face.
This was very well written. I can very much relate to this post as I had this same kind of relationship with my parents, more so my dad. I had to move out, and we’re still not on par, but we don’t fight, we don’t really talk either… ah well. Always lying as a child, I eventually grew out of it when I was around 20 – 22 years old. I grew up a bit around that time, met a man, had a baby…. The reality of life was more important to me than what could’ve been or what I’d like it to be.
Good luck with everything. Parents will probably never change. Acknowledge it.
Thanks for stopping by my blog :)
Maybe I need the next big thing in my life to happen before I can really grow up.
Although I do find the more time I spend at home, the more I (or we) start reverting back to our old selves – them not knowing when to give me the reigns, and me not knowing when to step up.
Hey there! I just wanted to say thanks muchly for the blog comment, cos it led me to yours…and it’s brilliant. It’s good to know that there are other 20-somethings still struggling to figure out a compromise between an ostensibly ‘mature’ way to do things and wanting to escape certain boundaries. I think it’s natural to withold certain things- and yeah, with Asian parents it’s basically my-way-or-no-way, none of this hippie let’s-compromise-with-the-kid stuff :P
At the same time, though, I respect the way that they’ve brought me up- cos if I were to raise kids, I’m sure i’d be making a million mistakes along the way. (it always scares me a little just how impressionable little kids are!)
Thanks for stopping by my blog!
Family dynamics are so complex…I’ve definitely had my own issues with my mother over the years. I definitely “parent” her and have for a long time. It’s a heavy burden.
I hope things work out for the best and good luck on your move!
I am surprised you had to look up this type of behavior to find out it is normal–I think everyone does this to a degree, and, no, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a bad person, or a bad child to your parents. I didn’t start lying so early, but I did quickly learn in middle school that if I wanted anything to be private I had to hide it. I couldn’t trust my mom to keep secrets from the rest of the family, who blew things out of proportion and teased me endlessly to my mortification about buying bras and crushes. So hiding things from my parents became not just a measure to balance fun and discipline, but a means of hiding my inner self from constant humiliation. I feel more and more lately that I wish I had had someone when I was growing up that I could tell everything to. But I digress, I only mean to say I know how you feel and can’t blame you at all. Of course wanting to do those things you want to do, like just having a night out, doesn’t make you a bad person.
Anyway, I hope that you can be more sincere with your parents, especially if you find the situation fixable. I just recently was a bit more honest with my family about the situation I mentioned, even though I don’t think they would be willing to be more open minded right now. (Just so you know, I’m not playing the hypocrite.)
Also, I wanted to say thanks so much for your comment and blog buddy gift! It was really sweet and to be honest I feel pretty special that I was 1/3 to get it! :) About your comment, I wonder if I need to be more emotionally independent. As I stated before, I never told anyone my problems when I was growing up, usually not even my friends. Most of the time I suffered in silence, even when I was facing heavy depression. Now I rely a lot on my boyfriend for that kind of support, and sometimes on one of my good friends, too. I thought that was more healthy, but I shouldn’t ever feel like I can’t handle things on my own, either, right?
…God I know this comment is going to be monstrous when I hit “post”.
Oh my God, I love you Courtney. You know how much I love long posts/emails ;)
Thank you for understanding, and not blaming me for turning out the way I am. I feel a bit like a coward for running away, but I just feel like if I were to have the conversation now, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from bringing out the little things I still resent, from raising my voice, getting emotional, etc. And that would not solve anything, would it?
So, I am going to go on vacation from my parents, and hopefully things will smooth itself out with time.
I often withold truth than tell lies. I think the former is safer. In my days as a daughter (living with them), my squabbles with my parents (esp. my mom) were about preferential treatment. We’re five in the family (not counting my parents) and me, being the middle child, frequently got zero attention. That being the reason, I never went to extremes just to get their attention, instead, I focused on my studies or engrossed myself with hobbies — I’m quite a hermit, so it’s not surprising that i don’t do clubbing or whatevs. I come to realize now that, perhaps, they don’t give me that much attention (compared to my siblings) because they think I seem not to have problems with academics.
Just hang in there. You’re not alone in this kind of dilemma. You’ll learn to grow out of it, and accept that parents are imperfect.
Parenthood would probably be the hardest ‘profession’ one has to go through (granted everyone ends up being one). I quite dread for that day to come because i can’t even handle my own mood swings, much less for another one.
I guess I can sort of relate to your situation. I moved out 3 months after I turned 20. I never needed to lie to my parents at that age but that’s because they trusted my judgement enough to know that I wouldn’t get myself into any trouble. My advice is, even though hard, be honest, say you are going out if you are going out. They can’t stop you, I guess and hopefully they will appreciate your honesty rather than be disappointed about the lying. Anyway, the relationship with our parents is always a touchy one, I’ve been out of home about 7 months and we get along fine now. Pity you can’t do the same, some times it’s not always the best option anyway. Hope it all clears up soon x
When I was out of home at around 7 months, I was getting along fine with them too. Don’t misunderstand that I’ve been in an epic battle with my parents since the beginning of time. It’s just that, the more that I haven’t spent more than a week or so at home with them for the last three years, and now this 6-week stretch has all of us reverting back to our behaviour in the old days.