"Cognitive psychology is the study of internal mental processes—all of the workings inside your brain, including perception, thinking, memory, attention, language, problem-solving, and learning." -Kendra Cherry, MSEd

I once broke my wrist while armwrestling an Asian guy in a bar… Good way to begin a story, right?! Well, the armwrestling story is quite ridiculous and hilarious. Still, a conversation I recently had about the incident proved more jarring and thought-provoking than the very first time I’d ever broken a bone.

I was at lunch with six of my coworkers one afternoon, and I can’t remember the reason, but I told them the armwrestling story. Likely, I can’t remember the point of telling them because I was never able to get to it. Before I could neatly wrap the tale in my usual bow of humor and self-reflection, I was bombarded with looks and comments that marked my character. It had been universally decided that I was simply stubborn and couldn’t handle the idea of losing the armwrestling match, so I’d chosen a broken wrist instead.

I knew this wasn’t the case, and that I’d lost lots of armwrestling matches, but it didn’t matter to this group of people who barely knew me. Although this was the first time many of them had spent time with me outside of work, and the first personal story they’d heard about my life, they were somehow experts on the whats, hows, and whys of Nikita. It was very interesting to watch and experience. 

I very clearly told them that stubbornness and a refusal to lose had nothing to do with my continuation of the match. My experiential assessment was only met with greater protest and a slightly disrespectful dismissal of my self-knowledge. However, I was far more curious than offended. I wondered how people who had just met me could be so definite concerning my character traits and the nuances of my reasoning. I wondered how six people could come to the exact same understanding of an individual they knew so little about so swiftly.

Then I had a revelation. Although they were hearing this story for the first time, not one of them had asked me a single question! I opened a window into my experiences, my reasoning, my psyche, my LIFE, but not one peeked in to inspect or seek deeper understanding. They had stood on the outskirts of my intimate offering and, with frighteningly linear thought, projected, judged, and decided what it all meant and the person it meant I was. 

Once it hit me that I was sitting among people who had little desire or ability to understand me beyond themselves, I no longer felt responsible to them. I no longer felt the need to help them gain access to my inner sanctum because they wouldn’t know what to do if they got there. (A lesson I wish I had learned many, many, many years ago!) But it also made me realize how linear our thoughts can be. 

When we rely on one single line of thought, it restricts us to the ideas, theories, and understanding that run along that singular line. I watched them all say and agree to the same things simultaneously. I watched them give opinion after opinion without asking me a single question, even though they were so ignorant of who I truly am. And this was okay because it all made sense as they traveled down that single road of thought. As if human behavior were as formulaic and generic as elementary math equations that must add to a common sum.

Even though the conversation vexed me to an extent I can’t describe, I’m grateful because it helped me see how easily these things can happen. How easy it is to alienate someone and make them feel unseen and misunderstood. It further supported my fears of groupthink and my strong desire to ask lots of questions, even if they annoy the daylights out of people. I sat on the stand, gave my testimony, and watched as six virtual strangers stamped a psychological label on me, without taking a single step to understand me better. It’s a good thing I know who I am!

Even if it’s easier and more comfortable, I refuse to allow myself the short-sightedness of linear thinking. I want my thoughts to swell and beam from every angle of my mind like a sunburst! When someone graces me with an offering of their story, I want to honor it, to hold it up to the light and see all I can discover. I want to pull it close to my chest, feel it with the knowledge of my heart. I want them to know how much I appreciate such a precious gift. And that I’d never use this single offering as an excuse to label their entire person. Instead, I’m interconnecting it with the other small pieces of soul that they’ve shared with me as I thoughtfully build a beautiful, delicate, and complex  puzzle of “them.”

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I also want to take this time to apologize to anyone who’s given me a piece of their story, their life, or themselves, and I failed to honor it as a gift. I promise that it wasn’t intentional – but most importantly, it isn’t as likely to happen again.