The limits to "unconditional" love
A while back I wrote about having our movie marathon but no energy for cleaning the house prior to the arrival of our friends. The general response to that can be summed up as, "if they are real friends, they won't care what your house looks like." And that's true.
Up to a certain point.
At about the same time, Ferrett wrote about how caring people change their behavior to avoid hurting their loved ones simply because they don't want to cause pain. And that's true.
Up to a certain point.
Because in both situations, there is an unspoken and ill-defined social compact: both sides are making a unspoken compromises, and there will come a point where the party that is accepting the mess or changing their behavior will stop feeling like a good friend/lover and start feeling like a carpet.
Social compacts of this sort really are a two-way street. The friends who don't judge a dusty mantle or a less-than-spotless kitchen would likely be at least a little put-off if my bathroom reminded them of a backroads gas station restroom they once opted not to use. And while they may not say anything to about it, some part of them would be wondering about either my self-respect or my respect for them, if not both.
Likewise, the person who is willing to curb a habit because it bothers a loved one will begin to chafe if it seems like they are the only one ever making accommodations.
So I - and many others - clean up in anticipation of company, and the company protests that it's not necessary and we meet a comfortable middle ground of social decency. That middle ground is not always identical - my friend Karla's idea of a messy house pretty much corresponds with my idea of a spotless one - but they fall within some normative level: I'm not going to inspect for bathtub rings, but the one time I was invited to someone's house and cockroaches were wandering about? I dodged future invitations.
And while Ferrett and I have both asked each other to refrain from behaviors we found annoying, we have also both accepted - and grown fond of - other things about each other that at first seemed weird or incomprehensible or - worst - designed to make the other one crazy.
Your friends love you and not your housekeeping, yes. And your loved ones try to respect your needs, true. Just always remember that it's not a license to ignore the needs of others. Do for them what you want them to do for you and don't abuse the notion of unconditional love.
Up to a certain point.
At about the same time, Ferrett wrote about how caring people change their behavior to avoid hurting their loved ones simply because they don't want to cause pain. And that's true.
Up to a certain point.
Because in both situations, there is an unspoken and ill-defined social compact: both sides are making a unspoken compromises, and there will come a point where the party that is accepting the mess or changing their behavior will stop feeling like a good friend/lover and start feeling like a carpet.
Social compacts of this sort really are a two-way street. The friends who don't judge a dusty mantle or a less-than-spotless kitchen would likely be at least a little put-off if my bathroom reminded them of a backroads gas station restroom they once opted not to use. And while they may not say anything to about it, some part of them would be wondering about either my self-respect or my respect for them, if not both.
Likewise, the person who is willing to curb a habit because it bothers a loved one will begin to chafe if it seems like they are the only one ever making accommodations.
So I - and many others - clean up in anticipation of company, and the company protests that it's not necessary and we meet a comfortable middle ground of social decency. That middle ground is not always identical - my friend Karla's idea of a messy house pretty much corresponds with my idea of a spotless one - but they fall within some normative level: I'm not going to inspect for bathtub rings, but the one time I was invited to someone's house and cockroaches were wandering about? I dodged future invitations.
And while Ferrett and I have both asked each other to refrain from behaviors we found annoying, we have also both accepted - and grown fond of - other things about each other that at first seemed weird or incomprehensible or - worst - designed to make the other one crazy.
Your friends love you and not your housekeeping, yes. And your loved ones try to respect your needs, true. Just always remember that it's not a license to ignore the needs of others. Do for them what you want them to do for you and don't abuse the notion of unconditional love.