COM 200 was the most discouraging class of my entire year to date and just today. This is not to say I did not learn anything – for certainly I did. And this is also not to say that it wasn’t beneficial – for it was. But in so many ways it condemned me to utter hopelessness. Dooming me to be without ability to form new, meaningful relationships for as long as cancer also dominated my life.
Social Penetration Theory. In the words of Dr. Paul Patton “for some of you, the realization of this information will cause you to jump inside and your jaw will drop and you will go ‘that’s why!’” Yes Dr. Patton, something like that. I had read through the chapter – I was fully aware, if only cognitively exposed, to the way such an explicitly obvious theory would apply to everyday life. My life in fact. I could plainly identify how pieces of the puzzle played into my puzzle, my life as a whole. I had many light bulbs; many “aha!” moments – but nothing seemed exceptionally profound. The Social Penetration Theory was clearly explaining things I had clearly seen – giving explanation and reason behind many of the relationships I have had.
But as I sat in class, my insides collapsed. As Dr. Patton went on dramatically and excitedly – creating a personal monologue based discussion as the class watched on – I suddenly began to see things from a new perspective. Or really, rather, from the same perspective with a new filter. My hand went to my neck and I touched my scar. That scar, cancer, everything...that was it. That was why I suck at life. As class went on, it all seemed to make a peculiar amount of depressing sense. Please let me explain.
Social Penetration Theory works on the basis of the model of an onion – the idea that we reveal things to people at varying layers of intimacy – a process of reciprocated self-disclosure as a relationship forms. I share something about me, you share something about you. And vice-versa. If there is no initial rejection and similarities are assumed, deeper levels are traversed. Sets of people are essentially in the process of unveiling the same level at the same time. Fundamentally, it is the theory explaining how relationships start, continue, and die. And why it sucks to have cancer.
First of all, appearances work as a baseline pseudo form of self disclosure. Maybe it shouldn’t be, but appearances are often one of the first things drawing us to engage with one another. I have been told by a few daring soles that my scar is, by some, found intimidating, gross and repulsive. According to this theory – many will never approach me to ever begin a relationship – based on the sight of my scar alone. Let’s not even contemplate other such reasons.
Second - you’re expected, naturally, to disclose at the same level you inquired at – subsequent self-disclosure is given based on your response, etc. Those who are un-repulsed by my scar often interact with me for a time at the baseline level. Any who dare proceed further ask about such an awkward and obvious blemish. The scar itself is in the next level of self-disclosure and, for me, the answer is as well. But that is because it has become so natural. On the contrary, however, an answer like “cancer” sends most people into much deeper levels of self-disclosure. It’s a fake bottom. While my answer has just barely rubbed the surface of who I am, others believe I have trusted them with a great truth. Even though I, in fact, have revealed very little to the inquirer and in fact have much more to disclose under such a broad topic – the answer feels deep.
This plays out in one of two ways and I find the result to be a discouraging rock and hard place to be stuck between. 1) Unsure of how to respond by my unexpected answer, most retreat. This was too much “Anika” to be given and, based on the rules, reciprocity would demand an answer at a similar level. Afraid to divulge that much of themselves (seeing, again, the false bottom) many do not attempt more. 2) Some, though not near as many as before, see this false bottom and feel honored to be holding such a “close piece” of who I am. They assume a deeper relationship than actually exists because I have disclosed so much. While not necessarily opening themselves up to me – they assume they know more of me than what I have actually given, creating a phony sense of belonging on both of our parts. I am left with two options – equally seemingly inadequate. I could just not answer their questions and our relationship can remain almost worthless or I can answer truthfully – either way ending up without the solid relationship I crave.
And this all leads into those who make it beyond this point – third – my current relationships. This one piece of self disclosure (some believing they’ve made it fairly close to the core of who I am) becomes the fore-front of who I am as a person. As a result I have several very shallow friendships – all formed on the basis of cancer. They, only reaching a very little piece of who I am, assume haphazardly this to be not only the depth but also the breadth of interest. This is all they discuss – because it is all our relationship and level of self-disclosure is based upon. I have either no conversations (possibly because of my lack of ability to form meaningful friendships) or dozens (with many of my sideline spectators, cheerleaders, supporters and casual relationships) in a day. When I have any number of personal conversations – they all take place within the realm of these pseudo relationships built upon my ability to trust them with the knowledge that I in fact have cancer – meaning every conversation I have is about cancer. It is not that I do not value these relationships on a basic level, we just aren’t (and probably never will be) close.
In many ways, in fact most ways, cancer, for me, has turned into a fake form of self disclosure. I can disclose cancer without disclosing anything. It can in fact be a solid wall to hide behind enabling me to close off other pieces of who I am. Few understand why I hurt for meaningful relationship though I have few willing to see past and break down the walls. Hardly any one will breach issues of political comprehension, theological justification, my fears, my fantasies, my secret longings – the real me. I have ceased to know, and constantly question, whether or not another piece of me even exists – for rarely do I have a meaningful conversation about anything other than cancer. And meaningful is very much relative to the eyes of the beholder. Most of my cancer discussions never breach a level where I can complain about the injustices, talk about what God is teaching me inside it or reveal my secret fears. That fake bottom throws people into believing they’ve got a pretty good picture of who I am inside of cancer without doing anything but air brushing the surface.
And this analysis is only the beginning. I was able, in my initial eye-opening discovery to pinpoint many direct examples of relationships, etc, that have taken place inside each of the realms I have stated. And, quite frankly, there is plenty more to the theory available for me to delve into – currently untouched and untapped by my ability to connect it to cancer. Depenetration, for example, and watching relationships that existed before the onset of a cancer announcement, slowing ebb away and dissolve (occasionally for some of the same reasons listed above – some in conjunction with other theories, etc). How I can’t wait for the saga that makes up my life to end. Cancer is a huge defining factor of who I am – but it is not the truest thing about me. Unfortunately, it tends to take precedence – in other’s minds and, admittedly, in my mine as well. Until it ends, however, it will continue to be under constant forces of mystical communication practices that guide relationships...things like the Social Penetration Theory.
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