So a couple of weeks ago, a woman anonymously published an article about her date with a famous man. It was immediately jumped on by various sides, opinions flying as fast as tweets could be typed. I read a couple of articles, and here’s what I was struck most by.
This woman was not sexually assaulted. Her evening wasn’t even about regret (though there was obviously some of that). More than anything else, she was disappointed.
She’d imagined a romantic date with a famous man. It turned out to be a normal date with a normal guy. She’d imagined a Prince Charming, knows-what-I-need-without-my-saying-it kind of fairy tale. She got a normal guy who assumed that when she let him take her clothes off, it meant she was okay with sex. She had massively detailed expectations, and they ended up in a crumbled heap at her feet. And after she’d stewed about it and got herself into a big enough tizzy, she wrote an article about the evening that was intended to destroy his reputation, his career, and his future.
Because she was disappointed.
Disappointment is a part of life. Except that many people seem to think it shouldn’t be anymore. And that’s a problem. Because in every single relationship we have (spouse, kids, parents, coworker, supervisor, pastor, friends, neighbors, grocery-store checkout person), disappointment IS going to happen to us.
The definition of disappointment is “the state of being disappointed.” Great help, right? But disappointed is a little more clear: “to fail to fulfill the expectations or wishes of, to defeat the fulfillment of (hopes, plans, etc.).”
We are disappointed when a person or circumstance does not rise to our expectations.
And here’s where we get in trouble. Because, let’s be honest for a second, how often do we really, really define our expectations?
- “My husband should have known…” but did you define the expectation for him?
- “She never comes through when I need her…” but did she know you wanted something from her?
- “My kid cannot seem to get this right…” but have you only lectured about it, instead of making sure said child knows exactly what you wanted from him or her?
- “I have worked so hard on this, and no one noticed…” but how would anyone know how important this actually is to you?
Most of the time, I don’t even know that I have expectations, much less understand what they are. And that gets me, and all of us, I suspect, into a lot of trouble. Because when we’re disappointed, we can be very unkind. We lash out at (or give a cold shoulder to) our spouse. We stop calling that friend. We roll our eyes or huff or tell our kid what an embarrassment he or she is.
And when it comes to ourselves, it’s even worse. We beat ourselves into a pulp. We read ourselves the riot act. We call ourselves stupid, broken, less than, worthless.
Disappointments create a great deal of turmoil in our hearts, but they don’t have to. One of the most helpful ways to deal with disappointments is simply to recognize them and call them what they are.
- I’m not angry, I’m disappointed.
- I’m not offended, I’m disappointed.
- I’m not emotionally damaged, I’m disappointed.
Almost every time, this simple tactic decreases my stress and upheaval, and it keeps me from saying something or treating someone in a way that I’ll later regret.
But even more, we have to establish and maintain meet-able expectations. This is not always easy, but it can be done. And we don’t even have to think through and define ahead of time our every expectation for every circumstance and every person we even might come in contact with today. We simply have to define for ourselves who we are, Whose we are, what our purpose is. Keeping those things in mind helps us avoid disappointments. As Shauna Niequist said in Present Over Perfect:
What you need along the way: a sense of God’s deep, unconditional love, and a strong sense of your own purpose. Without those two, you’ll need from people what is only God’s to give, and you’ll give up on your larger purpose in order to fulfill small purposes or other people’s purposes. … When I have time, I can instead say to myself: Go back to being loved; go back to your purpose. This thing I am being asked to do will not get me more love. And this will not help me meet my purpose. … I remind myself: This will not make me feel loved, so if that’s why I’m saying yes, that’s not a good reason. The love I want will not be found here, and what I will feel in its place is resentment and anger.” (p. 53-54)
I’ve kept these quotes on repeat in my mind this week. Nothing I do, nothing I want someone else to do for me, can make me feel permanently loved. I don’t have to perform, and I don’t need Eric or the kids or my friends to perform for me. God already loves me, and He has a purpose for me that I can do. And these realities lower my expectations on everyone and everything else … including myself. Especially myself.
Talk to Me: Do you think disappointment is a powerful influence? How can letting people and circumstances off the hook for our happiness or sense of being loved make a difference?
