Same Scene; Different Perspective

One of my favorite authors is Jodi Picoult. While she’s an incredibly talented storyteller, what I love most about her books is that each chapter is told from a different character’s perspective. She reminds us that people can experience the same situation very differently. The lens through which our mind interprets words and behavior is subjectively unique. I also believe this is the cause of all conflict and miscommunication.

I’m currently birthing a teaching memoir that has been seven years in gestation. I’ve spent exponentially more hours editing it than I have writing it. With each iteration, I am brought mentally and emotionally back into the version of myself I was when certain circumstances were happening to be as authentic as possible.

My developmental editor suggested I cut a particular chapter from 40 pages to 10. I found myself resisting. I agreed that it should be condensed to the portions that moved the story forward, but my ego wanted to defend myself and actions I still held regret around. In my mind, if only this other person knew my side of it, I could right a wrong that was 16 years in the past. I imagined that they would read the chapter they’re in and all would be forgiven. Then I wouldn’t be “the bad guy” anymore.

In favor of doing right by the book, I cut out everything except the main details and storyline.

Then a beta reader of the next draft suggested that the manuscript would be stronger if I could seed in my intuitive gifts within the first few chapters. The opportunity to do so was in the portions I cut. But I also didn’t have proof that the hunch I had felt so strongly about at that time was correct.

The only way to do so would be to ask the very same person I wanted to explain myself to. I took a deep breath, got vulnerable, and emailed them. I took the opportunity to explain what I had wanted to share within my manuscript—the portion that was cut. In my way, I was seeking their forgiveness and compassion. Their response surprised me.

We perceived the same situation completely differently.

What I had built up in my mind, and frankly beat myself up for handling poorly, was a non-issue. They “looked back on fondly” the very same moments I regretted.

It made me realize I was still judging and criticizing the woman I was in my late 20s and early 30s. The person I needed forgiveness from, and to find compassion for, is myself.

Y’all, this healing in layers is no joke!

Just when we think we’ve moved on, it can be humbling to find ourselves returning to old stories, old habits, and old patterns. I’ve made huge strides regarding self-love and self-worth. I’m grateful for the progress I’ve made, and I will continue to do my own inner work as things arise.

All this to say, if my journey can provide any insight for your own, it’s that we are a constant ebb and flow of remembering our wholeness and forgetting again. That’s okay. None of us are perfect, and yet, we’re still perfectly imperfect.

And the next time you think you know all the facts around a circumstance, think again. The lens of our perception is just that—an interpretation of what we think we see and know. There is no one truth or one “right way.” So let’s be gentle with each other. We’re all doing the best we can with what we got.