Honesty and Discretion

“It’s the best policy”, but who among us hasn’t at sometime somewhere and somehow hidden something from their partner? It’s sort of inevitable because we all want to appear better than we are, better than we’ve done, better than we feel. And not only for our own sakes; the ‘white lie’ is often for the benefit of our partner. The “oh yes, you look great in that” isn’t merely to cover up our own pettiness but often also to avoid inflaming negative feelings in our partner. Perhaps your partner is better at something than you (say bringing in a better income, better at supporting the children, handling their parents better than you handle your parents, whatever, etc.), they likely have no more wish to incite jealousy, guilt or resentment than you want to feel it.

Yet the principle behind the honesty truism is that though we clearly want to somehow dispose of, ignore and protect ourselves and our partner from feelings we think are ‘wrong’ unhealthy or detrimental, those feelings don’t just simply disappear if we paper them over. Inevitably they will seep out and we will have uncomfortable symptoms of some sort or variety, likely making things worse down the road.

Is always biting the bullet the best way to handle these things?
For the most part, I rather think so. With caveats. For certainly every couple and individual manages and negotiates their own balance and standards of honesty and integrity – but there are varying degrees of honesty and awareness as well.

I’ve said before my wife tends towards the compact and holistic way of experiencing life; to her my more differential way of viewing things is more like a way to ‘suck the joy out’ of any experience. She doesn’t want to be aware of everything I have going on in my head because she wants to enjoy her own experience too and doesn’t want me to constantly and conversationally hack away at the mystery and beauty of our love and lives together. Does it matter whether we share every little thing with each other? We have found, and continue to find, our own middle ground as we go along: we don’t lie, but we have a semi-tacit agreement about some matters to skip discussion, to use discretion, to maintain a ‘need to know basis’.

And so it is I have tried (more than once) to put ”stealth submission” in a similar context. For I usually think of it as a bit like trying for some frog-in-a-pot effect, the idea being to slowly introduce the benefits of having a submissive partner in order to help your partner accept it more easily. (I don’t think anyone hopes she mightn’t even notice.) Yet while I’m certain the fear and possibility of rejection is quite real, if he is aware and is trying to avoid the possibility of being rejected it seems also entirely possible that she is too. She may be equally aware and trying to avoid the possibility of feeling as if she has to reject him, she may love him but not know or be certain what she wants or can handle and so – and so she opts for that pot’s slow adjustment period. The frog needn’t always be clueless about the pot, and in her awareness she can end up controlling the situation with a well placed look or glance – until she gets to the temperature she decides is best for her, or decides to get out of the pot. (Hopefully this is the only time I compare women to frogs.)

Obviously this sort of “silent but open secret” doesn’t exactly the same level of honesty as conversational full disclosure, but if both are aware there’s more to deal with someday why not decide to let whatever it is play out organically instead of facing it square on with endless and romance-killing conversation and debate about it. Could such a silent slow change model become a collaboratively tacit plan for a couple’s process of acceptance and (re)negotiation of love symbols?