I’ve seen a number of posts on Facebook recently that are expressing disappointment in the way that family and friends have apparently failed to give requested support for something that means the world for that person.  I’d be surprised if most people haven’t experienced something like this in their lives.  For example: you have been working on something and you have spent a lot of time and effort developing it, and before submitting the project, you’d like someone you trust to give it the once over just in case there are any glaring errors.  So you ask members of your family or close friends if they could help out – and they agree.

The particular post on Facebook which jumped out at me, was from a gentleman who is neuro-divergent and had just finished writing a book despite the fact that he found it difficult to read or write.  He had a story to tell and the need to tell that story was so important that he was prepared to climb mountains to do it. 

Many writers take years to finish a book even without that kind of challenge.  These are years of passion, dedication, determination, and tears.  That first book is our Magnum Opus.  We make ourselves vulnerable when we publish a book.  It is our soul laid bare for the world to see and dissect. 

For that gentleman, not one of his family or friends had pulled through for him.  From his perspective, he was faced with the knowledge that no-one he cared about and trusted enough with this part of his soul, cared enough about him to even read the book.  When this happens it is a huge reality check.  A betrayal of everything you thought you knew about the people you love and trust.

I experienced something similar before publishing my first book.  Most of the people who had agreed to read it didn’t come through at all, although one person came through in spades.  She actually went through the book in detail and gave me so many valuable insights and corrections; and all them were presented with respect so that at no time did I feel she was judging my work.  It must have taken her hours to do that, and I am still so very appreciative.

But from others?  Silence.  And in that silence, I felt judgement.  I felt that I was not as important in their lives and as they were in mine.  I felt as if they just didn’t care and I grieved at their betrayal.  But as I thought about this, I realised that this probably wasn’t betrayal at all.  It was only my disappointment at play.  There were two other things that I had failed to consider. 

First, I had asked, and they had agreed to help out.  My expectation was high that they would follow through.  I’m a very literal person, and in my world, if you agree to something, you do it.  If you are not sure that you can do it, you say so.  That might upset the other person, but not as badly as if you agree and then fail to deliver. 

My expectation was, really, the main problem.  They had said yes to helping me out and I did not even consider that they would not do what they had agreed to do; and it never crossed my mind that just maybe they agreed because they do love me and didn’t want to hurt me by saying no. 

In my anger and pain, all the many different reasons to possibly explain why they had not kept their promise were not even considered at first.  In my personal excitement, I hadn’t made allowance for other elements to be at play.  People really do live busy lives and however good intentions can be when they are made – life happens.    

The second thing I hadn’t considered was that the book simply wasn’t in a genre that they like to read.  Just because I am excited and passionate about my writing doesn’t mean that they are.  In fact, when I sat down and thought about it, I realised that my sister, for example, is not in the least bit interested in the same things I am, and I wouldn’t expect her to be.  For her to sit and read my book it would have felt like medieval torture!  And it would have taken time away from the things that she is really passionate about.  She’s my sister and I love hearing about her life – but could I read a book about it?  I doubt it.

My reality check didn’t actually take too long, and I did not ask anyone else to sit and read the next three books.  I am, though, very fortunate to have a friend who is also a writer, and each day she listens to what I wrote the previous day and makes some very valuable comments.  In return I listen to her work – mainly as a sounding board because most of it goes straight over my head!

With those posts that first appeared on Facebook, I was taken back to a time of pain and betrayal.  They were my emotions and I am sure that the gentleman I mentioned earlier also felt those thing like a stab to heart, and I hope that, like me, he can eventually come to understand that sometimes we place very high, unrealistic, expectations on people who do care for us but don’t know how to say “Sorry.  I’d love to do that but realistically I’m not the best person to help you out.”

We can get lost in the emotions of our passions, and it can be hard to understand that the rest of the world is not feeling the same way.  We are the ones asking others for their assistance – and it doesn’t matter what that is.  It could be writing a book or it could be giving someone a lift to the shops, or helping an older person change their bedding.  If we are the person doing the asking, we need to make sure that the person being asked knows that its OK to say no.  And if you are the one being asked to help, and even though you are very willing to be of help, but it’s just not going to work out with other stuff you are committed to – don’t be afraid to say, ‘Sorry, I’d love to help but it’s not possible.’

Thank you for reading

Please like and subscribe

Check out my new Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/dragonsandbooks

Auri’An Lay

Life through a neuro-divergent mind