25 February 2025

The Limits of Knowing: What People Don’t Tell Us

  


 In a recent episode of FBI, two characters shared a poignant exchange. One lamented, "I thought I knew him." The other responded with a wisdom that hits close to home: "You can't know what people don't tell you." These words resonate deeply, evoking reflections on human relationships, the enigma of personal identity, and the invisible layers that make up each individual.

The Surface and the Depths

Humans are like icebergs: what we see is only a fraction of the whole. Our interactions, no matter how frequent or intimate, often only scratch the surface. We tend to believe we understand those around us based on our shared experiences and observable behaviors. Yet beneath the surface lies a vast expanse of unspoken thoughts, emotions, and past experiences.

The Facade We Present

People are complex beings, and often, we only show a fraction of ourselves to the world. We wear masks, build facades, and share only what we choose to reveal. This is not inherently deceitful; it's a survival mechanism, a way to protect our most vulnerable selves. We curate our image, deciding what to share and what to conceal based on trust, comfort, and past experiences.

The Unspoken Truths

What people don't tell us can be just as significant as what they do. These unspoken truths might be past traumas, fears, dreams, or even aspects of their identity they are still coming to terms with. The reasons for keeping these things private vary: fear of judgment, the pain of revisiting old wounds, or simply the belief that some things are too personal to share.

The Illusion of Knowing

When we think we know someone, it's based on the information they have provided us. We fill in the gaps with our assumptions and interpretations, often colored by our perspectives and biases. But the reality is, we can never fully know another person. We can only know what they choose to disclose.

The Dynamic Nature of Identity

Moreover, identity is not a static construct; it evolves over time. The person you thought you knew five years ago may have undergone significant changes in beliefs, values, or life circumstances. These shifts might not always be outwardly evident, further complicating our understanding of each other.

Building Deeper Connections

To build deeper connections, we must acknowledge this limitation. True intimacy comes from a place of mutual understanding and acceptance. It involves creating a safe space where individuals feel comfortable sharing their truths. This requires patience, empathy, and the willingness to listen without judgment.

Embracing the Unknown

Embracing the unknown is part of the journey of relationships. It means accepting that we will never have all the answers and that some aspects of those we love will remain a mystery



currently listening to Someone Like You, by Adele


22 February 2025

This is an example of a rhetorical question

 Why do I let myself forget that I live in America as a black man and that I need to take some extra steps to get a fair result?




currently listening to Black Man In A White World, by Michael Kiwanuka 

20 February 2025

ok. and...

 my therapist once told me that I need to be intentional with what I want and it will show up.


ok. and?



02 January 2025

Disappear.

 Today, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen since the 1990s.


His name is Rusty. He was surprised to see me and even more surprised to learn I now live in Milwaukee. We knew each other back when I lived in Madison. Rusty, my best friend Steve, and I were inseparable in those days—they were my two closest friends.

Steve moved to California in 1991, and I moved to Maryland in 1997. Steve and I kept in touch over the years, but staying connected with Rusty was a challenge. He never returned my calls after Steve moved away. 

This evening, January 2, 2025, I was walking into the Pic ‘N Save on Humboldt Street when Rusty was walking out. He saw me first and called my name. At first, I didn’t recognize him, but the sound of his voice brought it all back.

He looked genuinely happy to see me. We made small talk, catching up briefly. He mentioned that the last he’d heard, I had moved to Maryland. I told him about my life since then, and he started reminiscing about the old days—how he, Steve, and I hung out all the time and the crazy adventures we shared.

“Wow,” Rusty said, shaking his head. “That was over 30 years ago. I wonder how Steve’s doing.”

“He’s doing great,” I said casually.

Rusty blinked in surprise. “You still keep in touch with him?”

“Yeah,” I said. “We always have.”

Rusty looked stunned. “I haven’t heard from him since he moved to Laguna Niguel in the 1990s. When was the last time you talked to him?”

“About an hour ago,” I replied.

Rusty couldn’t hide his shock. “You’ve been in touch all this time?”

“Yep,” I said. “The last time I tried to reach you was not long after Steve moved. I left you a voicemail, but you never responded. Steve said he hadn’t heard from you either since leaving Wisconsin.”

After a pause, Rusty asked for my contact information.

I smiled politely and said, “No, I’m good. Thanks, though. Take care.”

With that, I grabbed a cart and went on with my shopping.


Friendships, I’ve realized, are not meant to be one-way streets. Communication requires effort from both sides, a mutual desire to stay connected. Over the years, I’ve found that when I stop reaching out to certain people, I never hear from them again. It’s a hard truth to accept, but one that has helped me prioritize the relationships that truly matter—the ones where the effort is reciprocated.


currently listening to Rollercoaster, by October London

Decades From Now

 Strangers,

decades from now,

will stumble upon the echoes of my life—


My blog posts,

Facebook musings,

TikTok desserts spun with care,

Instagram snapshots of edible art,

Amazon pages of short stories and novellas,

Pictures of me, smiling with family and friends,

Draped in compliments,

DMs,

and countless hearts.


They’ll wonder,

peering through this curated window,

why life felt so heavy on my shoulders,

why loneliness lingered like a shadow,

why success danced just out of reach,

why companionship slipped through my fingers,

why love, so deeply yearned for,

never quite stayed.


They’ll wonder,

despite the effort,

the trying,

the longing—

how it all still felt so far away.


--me