Partial Presentation and the Hook

Have you ever met someone who seemed a little too together? I acknowledge that some people really do have their shit together—they have both a sense of accomplishment and a sense of purpose and direction. But there is perhaps no one that does not simultaneously harbor some self-doubt as well. In fact, I have found that people’s uncertainty is a big part of what makes them relatable to me.

I recently met a guy online and had some rather enjoyable chats with him. However, when we met in person for lunch he presented himself as having solved all of his problems and as being very certain about himself and his life. He relayed a situation with his boyfriend in which he had recently addressed and successfully resolved a problem. There was no regret or doubt in his telling of the story—no un-sureness that the resolution would be successful. He presented his life as on track and betrayed no fear of challenges or obstacles or dissatisfaction.

Online he had been quirky and we had shared our respective senses of not fully understanding ourselves. It was as if online he was able to be more vulnerable, but face to face he needed to present well. The self-doubt, the willingness to be not quite “normal” which appeared in the online conversations disappeared in person. Unfortunately, this persona was very distancing for me. I do not know to what degree he presented this composure because he realized I was a psychologist, but it caused me to experience him as false or at best “partial,” as if I were only getting the shiny part of the whole picture.

In counseling and psychotherapy we talk about clients’ “hooks.” The hook is the aspect of the client from which our empathy for the client grows. Typically it has to do with the internal struggle. People who appear to be trying to do life right are appealing. People who are not struggling are difficult for anyone to relate to—few (if any) of us have a sense of what it is like to not have an internal struggle of some kind. Some people’s struggles do not make sense to us personally as struggles. That they are struggling internally is what makes them relatable—not necessarily the struggle itself. Sure, the person has to be likable or someone we can care about in the first place in order for their struggle to matter, but someone who is simply likable usually feels incomplete, or false. This guy seemed likable—not offensive in any way—just not fully present (or fully presenting).

I enjoy confident people. I have frequently said that confidence is the most attractive cologne. I like people who have a sense of accomplishment and a sense of purpose and direction. However, someone who is accomplished and simultaneously is uncertain is someone I experience as a real person. I don’t think anyone wants to be friends with just a façade of a person. We may even admire a person without apparent problems, but their friendship would not actually be rewarding.

Ideally, one would present as confident, but perhaps not certain. We like to know that others are also vulnerable. Similarly, I think it is comforting to present as recognizing that you are flawed—accepting of the flawed state, but also maybe wishing not to be. Though I would caution that (especially upon initial and early contact) it is also important to exhibit that you are grounded and not just a mass of uncertainty—that can be just as partial, absent a center. In the absence of substance there is also no personality in which to hook into. Someone who seems to have it all figured out does not seem like someone who is going to grow much.

One thought on “Partial Presentation and the Hook

  1. Psychiatrity and psychology are rlaely quite different. The former involves medicines, the latter does not.Talking does not help much at all. Trying new behaviors can rlaely be most helpful! When I listen to people in my practice, it is with the goal of them finding and trying some new choices and evaluating how they work. Think of it as assisted problem solving and implementation.And regarding the Rorschach, I was involved with a man, Les Phillips, Ph.D. who could do amazing things with the test. I would administer the test for him. Then we did some presentations where Les did not have any identiying information or background other than the person’s age, gender, and Rorschach responses. The folks listening all knew the person’s history, psychiatric problems, and life story.Les would proceed to read about three or four responses then describe the person in uncanny detail. He had a Scottish brogue and I remember thinking I could stump him with a person from the V.A. that was midway through sexual reassignment surgery. ‘This is odd. It is as if this person is not sure if he is a man or a woman! I ‘ve never seen anything like it.” Think Star Trek the original series when you read that.Now it was magic because Les could not rlaely explain how he did what he did, but he did it in rooms full of people, I provided the data, and he did not cheat.Finally, interpersonal and cognitive behavior therapy have a long history of documented effectiveness in the treatment of unipolar depression. That data is robust.Trey

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