A lot of people who know me can't help but think I'm a little cuckoo for constantly thinking about my friendships with them. An oft-heard question is, "Why do you always have to over-analyse everything?" I appreciate how they can get frustrated with me for always having to "assess" a relationship, for feeling the constant need to ask myself (and them), "Is this person really a friend or just an acquaintance?"

I thought I'd take this opportunity to explain myself a little bit—to explain how I see friendships, what I expect from them, and why I seem to spend so much time thinking about them. I doubt my words will make me look any "saner" in my friends' eyes, but perhaps it will help them appreciate a little more when I'm coming from. This is all consistent with my "policy" on being a transparent guy :-)

We all perceive things in our own, subjective way

It's a fact of life: we all perceive things in our own, unique, idiosyncratic ways—and no matter how much we think that we just "go with the flow" and play things by ear, all of our behaviour in relationships is governed by specific philosophies that we have either consciously or semi-consciously constructed for ourselves. No two people have constructed the same philosophy and no two people can perceive relationships in the same way. Consequently, my views on friends and friendships probably differ from most other people's—and are probably no more "right" or "wrong". What I present in this diary entry is only my subjective experience, and I don't make any attempt whatever to claim that I have discovered the "truth" about anything. It is a fallacy to think that there is some "common", "universal", "normal" way of looking at friendships. I used to think there was, but the more people I talk to, the more I realise that we have less in common than meets the eye. In this sense, nobody's perspective on friendship—not even mine—can be considered "abnormal" or somehow "screwed up" (unless the perspective is particularly dysfunctional and stands in the way of our meeting our friendship goals).

And we need to dig up and examine our subjective perceptions from time-to-time

There are two major reasons for this exercise: 1. To share my subject beliefs with others in the hopes that they will understand why I behave the way I do in friendships; and 2. To help myself uncover, deconstruct, and, if necessary, "correct" the various assumptions which govern how I see relationships. It may be said that I'm thinking way too much about all of this, but I beg to differ. The fact is that we all have subjective philosophies as to how the world works—how relationships work—and these philosophies deeply affect how we interact with other people. If we do not uncover these assumptions from time-to-time, then not only will we continue to be at an impasse with others, but will also be forever stuck in what may particularly erroneous or self-defeating philosophies.

It may seem quite inhuman, or just downright insane, that some of us have a need to spend so much time thinking about relationships—especially because the process can seem to artificial and contrary to the "flow of life". However, the process is often necessary to help correct the erroneous or self-defeating philosophies that some of inherited in equally inhuman and "artificial ways". For instance, some people grew up with particularly dysfunctional families which inculcated in them skewed philosophies as to how relationships work. Others experienced a kind of childhood in which they never had any experiences with friendships; as a result, they've had to spend many of their adult years "learning the ropes" and have, in the process, made some mistakes in the learning (let's face it: it's much easier to learn about friendships when you're younger than when you're older). More generally, all of us have inherited at least some dysfunctional relationship philosophies by being "brainwashed" by the social, cultural, and political forces that continue to operate on us. As a result, we often have to go "back to the drawing board" and reframe how we view things.

Furthermore, it must be noted that we live in a much more complicated world than our ancestors did. In the jungle and on the Savannah, everyday life consisted of instinctual behaviours designed to ensure survival, gather food, and ward off predators. In today's modern, Western society, daily life consists of negotiating a large, complex network of intimate interpersonal relations (often as much at the global level as at the local level). Those of us who haven't honed our "relational sophistication" are unable to function in this society. As a result, it's often necessary to reflect upon and "fine-tune" our interpersonal philosophies.

Certainly, after a while we should all stop thinking and just start "going with the flow" and enjoying life. However, sometimes you've been going with the flow for too long and haven't really gotten anywhere. People often justify holding on to particularly unsatisfying relationship philosophies by saying that they're just "enjoying the ride" and "going with the flow." This is a misunderstanding of what "going with the flow" really means; sometimes going with the flow means listening to that stream of feelings inside yourself that is telling you that you need to slow down and reflect a little more on the nature of the flow itself.

In the end, the reality is that we all do this sort of reflecting. Some of us just happen to do it verbally in a public forum like this. Many of the people who laugh at me for "thinking" so much about relationships do the exact same thing either in their own heads, or in more private forums where others cannot see them doing it. In fact, one person who is particularly critical of my constant reflecting has actually written (and published on his website) several elaborate mini-essays on all sorts of issues relating to relationships. Perhaps we believe so much in what we reflect on that we forget all about it once we've integrated it into our consciousness. Or perhaps we chastise people who reflect on things because the fruits of their labour may end up revealing painful things about ourselves which we would rather keep at bay.

First of all, it's not a matter of "analysing" anything

People often mistake reflecting on something for "analysing" it. I think there is some misunderstanding as to what "analysis" really means. To "analyse" something—in the strictly psychological sense—is to make educated interpretations as to the hidden motivations underlying someone's thoughts, feelings, or behaviours. By very definition, "analysis" implies digging around in someone's head (and often into their past) to try to "figure out how they tick". Analysis is something that is done in therapy; it's not something I do in everyday life. And it's certainly not something I do with my friends. I can see, however, why some people could misinterpret my actions as being analytical. Because I have a personal style of spontaneously expressing whatever thoughts and feelings I experience from moment-to-moment, it's inevitable that some of the things which come out of my mouth could be construed as me trying to get the other person to respond in such a way that she will reveal to me her hidden motivations.

Nothing, however, could be furthest from my mind.

I express my thoughts and feelings simply because they are mine and because doing so helps me appreciate a person or situation in all its dimensions (more on this below). The thoughts and feelings I express are merely examples of me fully immersing myself in the moment (which in itself is an idea  wholly inconsistent with the past-oriented focus that analysis entails). My own personal philosophy is to be fully rooted in the present, and this entails being completely in touch with (and fully open, honest, and expressive about) whatever thoughts and impressions I experience in a given moment. If I could put it another way, this kind of expression is all about me, and not really about the other person :-)

Why I spend so much time reflecting on my friendships

• Lots of people tell me it's a bad idea to spend too much time thinking about friendships and other relationships because doing so can make you feel utterly confused and miserable. On this point, I agree; excessively ruminating on relationships is completely fruitless at best, and positively maddening at worst. However, I do think that it's important to spend some time thinking actively about one's relationships. Because friendships are very important to me—because I rely on them so much for social support, especially during times of stress—I need to know ahead of time who I can count on to be there for me, and who I can't. I've had a lot of bad things happen in my life, and it was during those times that I was literally forced to think quite deeply about what a friend is, what a friend can provide, who a friend is, and whether a friend is someone I can rely on. Fortunately for other people, they haven't had to experience the kinds of negative events that force them to evaluate the friendships that they had previously either not considered or had merely taken for granted.
• For me, friendships are more important than they are for many other people. To me, my friends are like members of my family. Actually, they are my family—and I love them accordingly. In fact, I consider my friends to be as equal in importance and value as both my family members and my lovers. For me, friends are not just people I go watch movies with (I can do that sort of thing with anyone, even my dog). So, the time I spend thinking about these people is commensurate with the value I place on them. People for whom friends are not as important simply don't need to spend time thinking about the quality of their friendships, how to maintain the friendships, whether the friendships are faltering, and so forth.
• Personally, I want my friendships to be more than "average"—more than merely "satisfying". Life is too short to be investing time and energy in mediocre relationships. Therefore, I spend more time than the average person actively thinking about: whether there is a good chance that I can become friends with someone based on the degree to which we like each other; what I want from a friend; what a friend can reasonably give me; what I can reasonably give to a friend; and so forth.
• Perhaps it's a little easier to understand my point of view when you recall how much time you spend thinking about an "ex" after breaking up with them. It's this kind of mental energy that I invest in thinking about my friends (although I hope I won't have to experience any break-ups with them any time soon!).
• I can appreciate how a lot of males must think that I'm really strange for thinking about friendships as much as I do. For most men, friendships are not nearly as important as the relationships they have with their girlfriends or wives (or, in the case of gay men, their partners). In fact, the first and primary source of social support for most men is women.
• I'm a naturally inquisitive and reflective person, and for various reasons, it's impossible to turn this off (and, frankly, I don't want to turn it off, because it's an intrinsic part of who I am!). Where does this come from? A few places:
   
  • My nature as a human being. An interesting by-product of the years of evolution that we humans have experienced is the enormous size of our brains relative to our bodies. It is this highly developed brain which has allowed us to adapt so well to our changing environment; but it is also the same brain which has given us consciousness. Is there a purpose to this consciousness? Perhaps not. Perhaps it is simply an "epi-phenomenon"—an incidental quality which sort of "accidentally" piggy-backed on top of our brains. Given this reality, it makes sense that humans cannot help but think about their relationships, instead of just going with the flow and experiencing them. For instance, only humans think about why they can't attract a given partner; all other animals just cut their losses and continue soldiering on until they discover what they're looking for.
  • My individual biological make-up. Some people are just born more reflective and seem more "analytical" than others. Not only do all human beings have a common penchant for self reflection, but some individuals have more of a tendency to reflect (if not "over-reflect") than others.
  • Past learning. Although I wouldn't say that I currently obsess over things in an extremely dysfunctional way (others would argue otherwise), it does need to be mentioned that I came from a family in which everyone ruminated excessively about their relationships. Fortunately for me, I'm still actively working on spending less time thinking about things (including friendships) and more time actually experiencing them.
  • I'm a psychology student and, as a result, I need more than an average awareness of relationships. Why? Because this level of understanding will be critical for me when I sit down with individuals experiencing emotional difficulties. A key component in working with such people often includes helping them deconstruct commonly-held but unsatisfying and incorrect assumptions about: what friendship really means; what friendship entails; what can reasonably be expected from friendships; how one goes about evaluating their friendships; and so forth.

Putting it all to good use

Perhaps, at times, thinking can be a curse, but I want to put my ability to think to some good use. If I can help elucidate the often deep-seated and hidden assumptions we have about friendships, then perhaps I can be of some help to people whose assumptions may be negatively affecting their lives.

What does "friendship" mean to me?

• I guess I should say what friendship means to me (at least in part). It's important to be relatively clear about it, because we all have different definitions of friendship. To me, friendship has two components: 1. liking; 2. spending time together (which turns into commitment after a while). I'm of the firm belief that people generally know whether or not they like someone by the first 5-10 interactions they have together. It's usually by this time that two people are able to determine whether they have anything in common, how much they "click" (or whether they might be able to click in the future), and so forth. But mere liking doesn't mean friendship. Friendship occurs after two people start spending more and more time together because of their fondness for one another. The more time they spend with each other (during what I call the "friends-in-progress phase), the more it can be said that they are starting to become "committed" to one another. Once a significant period of time passes, this commitment becomes what we call friendship.
• I guess I could talk at more length about what specific qualities I look for in a friend, but that's best left for another diary entry. Suffice it to say that significant similarity and "clickability" sums up most of the qualities. Oh yeah, one of the most important qualities is whether or not the other person actually likes me in return! Let's talk more about this...

On the nature of "liking"

• I have to emphasise that, at least for me, the extent of fondness in a friendship has to be equal and bilateral. In the beginning of the relationship, the liking can be asymmetric, only to become more symmetric as time goes by. In cases where liking starts off being asymmetric*, I'm usually a pretty good judge of determining whether that liking is likely to become more symmetric as time goes by. In cases where I don't think it's likely the situation will change much, I tend to end the relationship because I know it will not really go anywhere. Some people have made the argument that it's impossible to make this assessment—that liking often develops over time such that two people may actively dislike each other for a long time but then come to practically love one another. I don't subscribe to this theory. People who've described to me instances in which they came to be best friends with people they initially despised probably already knew from the beginning that they had enough in common that it was worth continuing their interaction and waiting for circumstances to change and become more amenable to friendship. Because there is only so much time in life, it would be silly to continue interacting with people who didn't really seem to click with us in the beginning with the hope that they would slowly come to like us in time. Given this reality, I have to spend some time actively assessing whether or not it's worth working on a potential relationship—and part of this involves talking directly to the other person about whether or not we think there is a basis for a friendship. It may seem anal, but the realities of our short existence on earth (and the fact that we can spread ourselves only so thin) make it a necessity (in my mind anyway).
•  
• One of the biggest signs that I like a particular person is knowing that I would feel sad if he were not in my life. In other words, I know that this person will (either now or sometime in the future) affect, change, or enrich me in some positive way (I become or will become a better individual for having made friends with him). Similarly, I would hope that this person would also be sad if I were not in his life. I know of many people who say that their friends are really important to them and that they have strong relationships, but who wouldn't be particularly affected if those people weren't in their lives. For instance, I once had a "friend" who used to say that if we became friends, great, that if we didn't, "no biggy". I would not recommend that people remain in relationships with such people.
• Related to the above issue is the looseness with which people use the label "friend". The word "friend" is a very powerful one—one which denotes very specific kinds of feelings for most people. When person X calls person Y a friend, person Y generally has very specific assumptions about person X: that X likes Y in return, that X cares about Y, that X wants to spend more than just fleeting moments with Y (more than, say, once a month, which is less than the amount of time that many of us spend with our acquaintances and even our hairdressers). Because person Y has some definite assumptions about how X feels based on the fact that X is calling Y a "friend", Y will be particularly dismayed when he learns that X spends much less time with him than with his other friends. It is not uncommon that Y will ask, "How come you don't treat me as equally as your other friends? How come you go out with them more than you go out with me?" X might reply that Y is expecting too much—given that there are different levels of friendship—especially if X and Y have only recently met one another. X's feelings are valid. However, X would do better to avoid misleading Y by refraining from using the label friend. If X wants to use the label "friend", she needs to be aware that this means Y is going to expect to be treated like all other friends. Why would Y assume this? Because if Y thinks she is a friend, then she herself will be investing a lot of energy into the friendship and, therefore, will be expecting something in return. If X is not prepared to consider Y like most of his other friends, then perhaps he would do best to use the label "acquaintance", "pal", or "friend-in-progress". Otherwise, false hopes and misleading expectations can develop—situations which are certainly not conducive to friendship development.
• A lot of people tell me that it takes them quite a bit of time to determine whether or not they like someone. Me, I usually know right off the bat whether or not I like someone (or whether there is a strong chance that I will come to like the person in a reasonable period of time). I guess it makes sense that it takes people time to determine this, because people often reveal themselves very slowly. My own personal style is such that I'm sort of an open book and, therefore, make it very easy for people to get to know me upfront (namely because I'm so free and open in expressing with my thoughts, feelings, values, attitudes, etc). Over the last few months, I've had to learn that because they are used to interacting with people who reveal themselves over a longer period of time, I can't expect everyone to be as quick as I am in determining whether or not they like someone. Based on their own experiences with previous friendships, people getting to know me (or anyone else) for the first time will automatically believe that there is "more than meets the eye" with me—and that this will all be revealed in time. Even though, in reality, "what they see is what they get" when they meet me (ie, they usually don't discover anything new over time), I still have to give them the time they need because that's how they're used to getting to know people. With these people, liking can be asymmetric for the first several months (if not the first year or so) of the relationship. Of course, as mentioned earlier, if the initial liking is too asymmetric, then perhaps it's best to pursue friendships with people with whom liking is, initially, more symmetric or only moderately asymmetric (and likely to become more symmetric over time).
• Whenever I can, I try to keep in mind that people from different cultures have different "timelines" for friendship development. In some parts of the world, friendships form very quickly, perhaps because people don't need as much time to thoroughly get to know one another or because they like to spend a lot of time with one another early on in a relationship. In other parts of the world, the exact opposite may be true (especially in move conservative cultures or in cultures where it is actually pleasurable to get to know someone over a long period of time).
• People sometimes think that I "rush" friendships too quickly—that I am quick to declare, "We're friends!" I think part of this stems from a misunderstanding of the two key components of friendship: liking and spending time together (commitment). Liking is something that I think occurs pretty quickly when you first meet someone; for the most part, you either like a person, or you don't (in some cases, liking can increase over time, but not by a dramatic amount—unless you have misunderstood someone or made erroneous judgments about them). The phase during which two people who like each other spend increasing amounts of time together takes much longer. I am often very quick to declare to someone that I like them and that I think we could become good friends in the future. They mistake this to mean that I think we're already good friends. In actual fact, I need to spend a lot of time with someone I like before coming to consider them a friend (with all the expectations and privileges that this entails). (Interestingly, I often don't give others enough time to do the same; I need to work on this :-)

*Note: One of the reasons for asymmetric liking involves the presence of emotional disturbance in one of the partners in a potential friendship. For instance, if someone is currently going through a crisis or experiencing depression, it becomes very difficult for her to assess the extent to which she actually likes another person, to fully discover and appreciate the valuable qualities in that person, to appreciate how valuable that person could be as a friend, and so forth. A person can simply be too preoccupied with her own difficulties to be able to invest the kind of energy that's needed to really learn about and appreciate a person she has recently met. In such cases, it is hoped that when that person's emotional difficulties are resolved, liking will become more symmetric. In cases where the emotional difficulties persist (and one can often tell ahead of time if a person is likely to overcome their difficulties in a reasonable amount of time), the initial phases of the relationship are best terminated because ongoing emotional disturbance in one or both people in a relationship does not make a solid foundation for a good friendship. It should be noted that, as a rule, it's usually not a good idea to consider developing a friendship with someone who has mental health issues, mainly because such issues often take a long time to resolve. One's time would be better spent meeting and developing relationships with people who are already mentally healthy. It's only in rare cases that one should make an exception: 1. You believe that the person's emotional difficulties will resolve quickly (and will not recur); and 2. You believe that once these difficulties are resolved, the two of you will have a good chance at nurturing a friendship and eventually becoming friends.

On categorisation

By now, most people know that I have a little system that I use to "categorise" people as either "friends", "acquaintances", or "other". People regularly make fun of me for this. I thought I'd take a little opportunity to explain why I do this, and how it's not so much different from what other people do all the time in their own heads:

• Because friends are so important to me, I strive to spend a significant amount of time with each of them. However, there is only so much time and energy to go around. I need to figure out where I'm going to invest that time and energy so that I don't spread myself too thin and deprive my true friends of the attention they deserve. If I were to consider everyone I know a friend (and I know lots of people do this, claiming to have 100+ friends), then that means I'd have about 5 minutes to spend with each person per month. Because of the this situation, I need to be clear in my mind who is a friend and who is something else (in other words, I need to know what type of attention each person is going to get).
• One of my "criteria" for friendships is relative mental health. Except in rare circumstances (explained earlier), I think it's a bad idea to befriend people who are currently experiencing psychological disturbance. The reason for this may sound harsh, but it's a reality: people with psychological problems often want more from a friendship than they are willing or able to invest in return. The result is a very unsatisfying and asymmetric relationship; unsatisfying not only because I myself don't get anything in return, but because maintaining an asymmetric relationship is very disrespectful to the person who is experiencing the emotional difficulties. This doesn't mean I don't have relationships with people who have disturbances. I do. But I tend to consider those relationships "acquaintanceships".
• People suffering emotional disturbance can often be very good at manipulating, tricking, and "guilting" you into thinking that you should be their friend (I've had people tell me that they would kill themselves unless I became friends with them). This makes it all the more important to have a category system to refer to. In especially emotional and stressful moments with a particular person, it's easy to forget the kind of relationship you have with them. The result is that you can easily cross healthy boundaries and start giving a mentally troubled acquaintance the impression that you will be there for them as a friend, even though the nature of mental disturbance makes this impossible (if not dangerous). Being able to refer to my categories gives me grounding in these difficult times.
• People make fun of me for actually writing these categories down. Yes, it's true: I actually have written lists of of who is a friend, who is an acquaintance, and who is an "other". It may sound completely anal, but the reasoning is simple: These lists ground me when I am having extremely emotionally charged interactions with people; they help me remember that certain people cannot be considered friends (not yet anyway) because they have emotional difficulties. Why can't I just remember all this in my head? Again, when emotions run high in interpersonal interactions (and particularly when people try to bring up suicide as a way of luring you into their lives), logic goes out the door—as do the memories of all the times that things went horribly bad when you treated a troubled person as a friend and not as someone with whom you must have stronger boundaries.
• I think most people form friendship categories in their minds. Because of my unique circumstances, I just happen to find it helpful to take those categories and actually write them down. In the sense that people categorise things, I'm really no different from most people.
• Some people have taken my little category system to mean that I don't appreciate life in a holistic way. Thinking too much about boundaries, they say, detracts from the fluidity and richness of relationships. For my part, I am a steadfast believer in holism. However, this does not mean that I cannot also make use of the advantages that categories sometimes afford (especially when dealing with particularly difficult relationships).

Can you be "just friends" with someone you find physically attractive (and who doesn't in turn find you physically attractive)?

• Many would argue that you can have a good friendship under such circumstances so long as you come to accept that friendship is all that will (probably) ever come from the relationship.
• However, because our physical attractions to people can be so strong (and appropriately so, because such feelings are rooted in biology and help us bond with people who would make good parents for our children), we are sometimes unable to "stifle" them. In cases where we have particularly intense physical feelings towards a friend, the consequence is that powerful feelings of longing, sadness, and even jealousy can ensue. Furthermore, if these feelings are not appropriately "stifled", we can end up "acting out" on them. For instance, we may sulk when we hear a friend talk about all her hot dates, and may even start being mean and berating her and her dates—not exactly the kind of behaviour that is conducive to forming and maintaining friendship.
• Personally, I think that friendships are possible in these circumstances, provided that the following conditions met:
   
  1. The benefits of the friendship with the particular person outweigh the longing, sadness, and jealousy that may arise from the situation.
  2. The feelings can be tolerated (one way to help oneself tolerate these feelings is just by openly expressing them to the friend; this way, the feelings don't get "dammed up", there is no need to act out upon them, and the friend will no be surprised when your mood shifts).
  3. The feelings can be dealt with in a mature and appropriate fashion (eg, they can be fully experienced but not acted out upon in a hostile way).
  4. In all other cases, it would be foolish and masochistic to put yourself in a situation in which you will clearly feel angst.

Can friends become physically attractive to us over time?

• See first my detailed diary entry physical attractiveness (31 October 2003).
• Friends who become physically attractive over time can become romantic partners (please note my personal assumption here: romance is a special relationship in which there is an extremely high degree of friendship with the added dimension of physical attraction).
• Yes, in some cases friends we didn't initially find physically attractive can become physically attractive to us over time. This is probably most likely to happen when the friend has exceptional personal qualities which:
   
  1. far outshadow any physical flaws; or
  2. accentuate "average" physical features and make the friend more physically attractive
• If you currently have no need for an intimate, romantic relationship, then it might not hurt to see where a friendship might go—whether a physical attraction may develop over time.
• If you want a relationship soon, best to focus your energies on people who already like you both as a friend and on a physical level.
• If you find the friend so exceptional that you really want to take a crack at a relationship—to the point that you are willing to postpone your current needs for a relationship and are willing to take the risk that the friendship will not become romantic—then give it two years to see if anything changes. After that length of time, you can be sure that things will always remain a fantasy and that it would be best to move on and invest in "surer bets".
• If you choose to see whether a friendship will develop into something else, perhaps it is best to pursue other romantic relationships while you are waiting to see what happens with the friendship in question. At least this way you won't have "all your eggs in one basket" and you will have other potentially romantic relationships to fall back on if the friendship does not turn into a romance; if the friendship does turn into a romance, well, then you will have two great relationships to be happy about!

My natural style of communication is a little different than other people's, and to my friends this can be a little shocking (although, in the end, pleasantly refreshing :-)

• In general, I want to be a fully transparent person, but not in ways that impose on another person. Part of this transparency involves having a style of freely and frequently expressing my thoughts and feelings the moment they occur to me.
• Unfortunately, this kind of communication style can take some people aback because it's not exactly "the norm" (especially in more conservative parts of the world where communication patterns are often muted, veiled, or otherwise restrained). Not only do I often "think aloud", but I often "feel aloud". As I live from moment-to-moment, I completely and openly express whatever thoughts and feelings I'm experiencing—be they related to a particularly touching movie I'm watching with a friend or to the friend herself. This kind of genuine, immediate, and spontaneous expression of thoughts and feelings is consistent wit my policy on being open and honest with people—with the belief that this strengthens rather than hinders relationships.
• Why do I think this spontaneity is beneficial?
  
  • It is part of the process of moving towards self-actualisation (becoming all that one can be, which requires that one is able to experience and express all parts of oneself).
  • It encourages me to listen to everything that's going on inside me. This gives me access to much more information about myself, a situation, or a friendship that I could otherwise have.
  • It allows me to appreciate the often opposing and conflicting thoughts and feelings I have (that we all have but are often afraid to admit). The active appreciation of these oppositions allows me to see commonalties among them, thereby allowing me to come to a new synthesis and a new realisation about myself and the world around me.
  • It helps me fully and completely experience a given person or situation—and to fully experience myself in that situation or in relation to that person.
  • It keeps me from behaving in the kinds of nasty ways we do when we are forced to stifle our true thoughts and feelings.
  • It shows my friends that I trust them enough to be open with them.
  • It lets my friends know that if they want to tell me how they're really feeling about something, I'm going to welcome it.
  • It helps me experience life in all its dimensions!
  • Anything else seems to me to be completely unnatural (and is often fueled more by society, culture, and politics than by our own inner convictions of what is right for us as human beings).
• Unfortunately, all this spontaneity often makes my thoughts and feelings come out in a disorganised, helter-skelter, almost schizophrenic fashion. What can I say? That's the nature of our brains; everything is organised in a sort of associative way, often without any immediately apparent logical form or cohesion. The result is that when people hear me talk, they sometimes think I'm crazy. In response, I have to say that if any other person were to take 15 minutes and spontaneously express everything on his mind, he, too, would probably sound quite disorganised and a bit crazy! The only difference between me and him is that I happen to verbalise everything I think and feel :-)
• The kind of illogical, seemingly disorganised expression that I've just described seems especially bizarre when it centres around feelings. The spontaneous expression of feelings can strike others as very confusing and bewildering, especially when we consider that feelings often seem contradictory. By their very definition, feelings are not logical or organised (that's why they're called feelings and not thoughts) What I'd like to tell people is that they should not always try to interpret the content of my spontaneous expressions in any sort of logical way, because feelings do not follow logic. If they choose to ignore this warning, then yes, it will certainly look like I am trying to be manipulative, trying to play games, or trying to "test" them by seeing how they respond to my constantly fluctuating or contradictory feelings. If they take everything I say with a grain of salt—and keep in mind that feelings are just feelings, that they are by nature contradictory, and that they do not have to be acted on—then they will not be in a position to think that I am playing games with them. If, however, they still think I'm playing games with them, I invite them to ask me if there is anything I can do to ease their fears and to confirm for them that I do not have ulterior motives and that I am just trying to be open, honest, and spontaneous.
• But why, you might ask, would I want to express contradictory feelings in the first place? Isn't that just confusing for me? Well, at first, it is. But by expressing these opposing feelings, I can come to learn that there actually isn't any kind of contradiction—and that from two oppositions often comes a new realisation and a highly satisfying fusion of opposites (see 17 November 2003 diary entry on oppositions).
• Because I am so open and spontaneous with all my thoughts and feelings, one friend used to think that I was actually writing a thesis about him or running some sort of psychological experiment on him to see if he had the kind of mental health stability that I look for in friends. I can understand how someone would experience this kind of suspicion because they've probably rarely met someone who has the kind of communication style I do. Indeed, they can't help but ask themselves, "Why on earth did he mention that? What does it really mean? What is he trying to tell me?" For some people, the contents of my honest, spontaneous expression can even make them think that I am unpredictable. To this I can only reply that there is absolutely no ulterior motive behind my expressions and that I am probably more predictable than many others because people can always be sure that when I have a thought or feeling, it will be honestly expressed and not veiled in pretense, mystery, or defensiveness. The only reasons I express myself the way I do are listed in the beginning of this section.

• Another reason I am so open about my thoughts and feelings is to avoid having another person misunderstand me in any way. I don't want people to get the wrong impression about something—or to think that they have to "dig" deeper with me to uncover what I'm really thinking or feeling.

• I want to mention something that irks me a little bit. There are lots of people out there who say that they, too, value open and honest communication along the lines of what I've described in this diary entry. However, they value it only insofaras as it's not "too much" for them to bear. For instance, some of them get upset with me for expressing my thoughts and feelings because, for whatever reasons, it makes them feel uncomfortable. So for all their glorification of openness and honesty, they actively try to stifle mine. I find this to be a little... hypocritical in a sense. But it's also understandable, because it's not easy to be comfortable with complete openness and honesty. It can be very, very scary (but at the same time, very, very enriching).