The Identities We Invent
We are only disappointed by people whom we trust deeply. Not strangers. Not acquaintances. Not even colleagues. But those we feel close to. As we grow closer to people, we begin to form a mental image of them. Over time, two versions of them start to exist in our mind. The person they actually are, and the person they are in our head. We attach meanings to conversations we have with them, often far beyond what was actually said.
This gradually leads us to believe in a specific narrative about them. Slowly, we construct their identity in our mind. This can go on for days, sometimes years, until the moment arrives when reality intervenes. We realise that the identity we built and the identity that exists are in conflict. That is why people fall out of love. The person they fell in love with was the one they created in their head. As time passes and proximity increases, the contrast becomes impossible to ignore.
We are not disappointed by people. We are disappointed by the mental image they failed to live up to. Most of us have read about this, experienced it firsthand, and yet we continue to repeat the same pattern. We never stop constructing identities. Worse, we continue to build inaccurate ones.
When I first became aware of this contrast, I tried to stop forming images altogether. I soon realised that this was impossible. The mind will always construct some form of image. So instead, I chose to guide it. I began deciding what kind of image I should hold of a person, grounded in critical thinking. I created a spreadsheet with a column for each friend and started writing down facts. Facts only. Not interpretations. Not assumptions. Just what I objectively knew.
There was a separate tab for all the women I knew. What did I actually know about them? Were there gaps I had unknowingly filled with assumptions? If so, I acknowledged the absence of data and worked toward gathering it. Once everything you know is laid out cleanly, friend by friend, you begin to see people more clearly. The identity that forms after this exercise is far more accurate. It may still not be the complete truth, but it is the closest approximation because it is built on facts rather than emotions.
Years later, I learned that this is similar to how the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit studied serial killers. They collected every clue and fragment of information in one place and assembled an identity they could pursue. My approach was neither as rigorous nor psychological, but it taught me how to understand people with greater clarity and, more importantly, with greater sympathy.
So open up an Excel sheet and start writing down the facts you know about your dear ones. This exercise will also force you to confront how much you truly know about your friends.