Living With Others is Hard

What do you get when you put 7-8 very different people who don’t know each other in a small house 15 minutes away from campus?

Surprise! It’s not immediate hugging, an abundance of rainbow stickers and best-friendship. I’ll give you a hint:

 it’s conflict. (My dear old friend… remember that one?)

Here’s the thing about relationships with people who are in very close proximity to you and who are not your family: we all have expectations for how those people will behave. 

Newsflash: they will not behave that way for you. They are their own person. They live by their own values and expectations. (GASP!)

I know, I know. This is a lot to take in. Feel free to take a seat if you need to.

In all seriousness though, you don’t really realize the expectations that you have for people until they behave in a way that completely disregards your expectations for them. And we all have expectations, for better and for worse. For example, although I’d like to believe that I’m considerate and community-minded, I know for a fact that I am fiercely independent. For this reason, I expect people to not ask me questions, to respect my choices without interference and to give me space, but this means that I tend to also expect people I interact with to be independent and solitary creatures who are self-reliant and self-motivated and who will mostly concern themselves with themselves.

Unfortunately, not everyone is me.

Correction:*fourtunately not everyone is me

People around me will question me and my decisions, people will want to be affirmed through frequent and lengthy contact with me, and people will need me to motivate them and hold them accountable for their lives. Normally, this isn’t a big deal, because most relationships in our lives outside of family don’t require us to spend enough time with others to the point where we notice them defying our expectations. (Anyway, we tend to share similar expectations as our family members because our expectations for relationships are partially shaped by the standards of the relationships we grew up in)

However, when you’re living in a house with 7-8 of your unrelated contemporaries, small moments that defy your relational expectations become more noticeable. Differences in relational expectations for each other create conflict.

My experience in an intentional community has been less about volunteering and community involvement, and more of a lesson in patience, humility, and getting along with personalities that defy my expectations.

The thing is, you have to learn to discard your expectations. Yeah, whatever, waahh that sucks, blah blah blah, but really: despite what you may think, you don’t know what’s best for other people. Let me rephrase that: everyone outside of your worldview comes from a completely different place than you, and they all have good reasons for believing and expecting the things that they do.

While it’s important for me to make my expectations clear so people can learn how to best work with me, it’s just as important that I understand other people’s expectations for me. I have to come to realize that people aren’t nagging me, they’re holding me accountable. That I need space, but others need proximity.

This kind of close relationship entails picking your battles. You need to give a little respect for the expectations of others if you wish to receive that same kind of respect from your peers. Sometimes you need to wave a white flag, and other times you need to be firm and explain why you expect what you do.

It’s one of the hardest things I’m having to learn. There are days where I really, really suck at giving up my expectations. But realizing that I have expectations at all is one of the biggest steps I can take toward being able to form better, stronger relationships with others. Learning how to deal with people who are different than you is a big part of growing up. 

If you can learn to be respectful, humble, patient and kind to people that you don't understand or agree with, I think that's a huge indicator of maturity, or reaching the ever-elusive "adulthood."

For now, I'm still learning.