A few weeks back, Em and I shared the school run together. I hopped into the shower with just under twenty minutes before we were due to leave. He was surprised to find me at the door with the kids ready to go, and that he needed to get himself ready. He claimed that based on “historical data”, he hadn’t expected that I would be ready on time. My ears pricked up immediately.

Historical data is something he deals with in risk software, where they use the past to forecast the future, including where they’re potentially exposed to risk.

Based on his experience of me getting ready, which wouldn’t necessarily be based on the school run, he hadn’t expected me to be as ready as quickly as I was. Now, of course, he could have written this off as an anomaly, but instead he’s had to adjust his understanding of the ‘data’.

This got me thinking: Aside from our using what we regard as historical data about ourselves to predict potential negative outcomes and to cap our potential, we misuse, misread or just straight up disregard historical data that we hold on others. We do this by marking what we’re experiencing as an anomaly, or by deducing that whatever occurred was because of a set of conditions (real or imagined). Or we decide that we’re the conditions.

When we experience something, it might be an anomaly in the sense that it’s what we perceive as being our first experience of it.

We may decide that it’s an anomaly because we also think it’s going to be our only experience of it.

We might come up with all sorts of rationalisations for why this experience occurred. Based on our habits and plans to people-please, we figure we can eliminate the possibility of experiencing it again. Or, we might genuinely believe that it really is an anomaly. Of course, if it happens again, that means it wasn’t. It’s at this point that we need to heed that information.

A classic example of when we regard someone’s behaviour as an anomaly is when we assert ourselves with somebody who’s come to expect our compliance.

When we, for instance, say that we don’t want to hang out, that it’s over, or that we can’t do something, the person might mark this occurrence as an anomaly and test the waters further down the line to see if it’s true. It might not even be ‘testing’ as such. They may have blanked the information from that time and just assumed that next time around it would be business as usual.

I see testing the waters play out with No Contact.

If the person in question has worked out that it takes a certain number of attempts or a certain level of attention to get you to respond, they’ll only feel as if they’re out of control and panicky when it’s passed that number or level of attempts.

Some will suddenly see that you were serious and respect your wishes. And others will ramp up their efforts until they ‘win’ and then back off or revert to their previous behaviour. Of course, once they’ve chased and reverted a few times, you also realise that their actions weren’t an anomaly representing a change in character. Blowing hot and cold is just part of their M.O.

But it’s also true that often people treat similar types of data as individual items or even regard them as anomalies, even when they are clearly not.

When we treat similar events and behaviours as if they’re very different and don’t look at the relationships between each of them and what they all mean, we don’t consider that information to be relevant.

We might think that the fact that these events occurred is based on a certain set of conditions, not on anything to do with that person.

That’s why I get so many people claiming that the reason something happened has nothing to do with that person’s character or habits. They rationalise the problem as being because of the person being shy, introverted, tired, stressed, the Busiest Person In The Universe TM. They say stuff like, “They just don’t understand the depth of their feelings” or “They’re scared by their feelings.”

When experiencing mistreatment, they’ll say it’s because the person used up all of their decency credit on being nice to everyone else. They might claim the person’s trying to find themselves, that they just need to get a j.o.b. that the market is bad, their mother/father/sibling/{insert person of choice} is wearing down their last nerve. Or they’ll say this person didn’t have any electricity, their car broke down, they couldn’t find a phone within a fifty-mile radius, they didn’t have clean drawers. You get the gist.

We also might think that these events occurred because we are the condition.

This means that if a person does something several times, even though that actually tells us a lot about their character and values, we act as though we provoked it. Something about us caused the person to act the way they did. It’s not character or habit or anything to do with them; our worthiness made them do it. That thing we said or did (or didn’t do) made them. If only we’d just do things exactly as they want, we wouldn’t be going through this. It’s the One False Move mentality.

We find a litany of faults with our worth, character, personality, appearance, or capabilities. Then we deduce that if only we’d done such-and-such, or were more something, or less of that, whatever it was wouldn’t have happened.

The worst thing about this is that using this kind of reasoning is a habit. When we look at our own historical data, we’ll think, Whoop, there it is! Check out all this evidence that it’s me.

All we’re really looking at is evidence of all those times when we marked ourselves as the reason for other people’s behaviour.

We then feel deflated and defeated. We will continue using this rationale to adjust our behaviour to ‘fit in’ and protect ourselves. Of course, this will include trying to influence and control people’s feelings and behaviour by being pleasing. The historical data just keeps getting skewed.

Now, of course, we can’t know that something isn’t an anomaly until it isn’t. However, when we have a healthier sense of self and so can distinguish between what’s ours and what’s someone else’s, we won’t be so quick to write off or rationalise code amber and red behaviour and situations. Instead of disregarding our feelings, opinions, and what’s happening, we see a bigger picture. We allow ourselves to acknowledge the connection between pieces of feedback we’re getting from someone and form healthier conclusions.

In this way, we also get to be vulnerable and experience life because we have a better understanding of risk rather than misusing data and then feeling afraid and unable to figure out our next move.

We can change our data.

Not only can we change the meaning of our data, but when we try to do better by ourselves, rather than writing off attempts as flukes and anomalies, we acknowledge progress.

Sure, it may seem like an anomaly the first time. Still, if we keep repeating new, healthier responses, then it’s a pattern, not an anomaly. We have to adjust our expectations of ourselves as well as our predictions. If we’re trying to evolve, the same ‘ole doom we used to predict doesn’t apply.

And you know, others will have to change their predictions about us too. Sure, they might think that it’s an anomaly when we show signs of emotional backbone, but they’d better watch out!

Your thoughts?

Mr Unavailable and the Fallback Girl ebook by Natalie Lue

Mr Unavailable and the Fallback Girl

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The No Contact Rule ebook by Natalie Lue

The No Contact Rule

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