Learning to see ourselves as others do

Every now and then we are reminded the world doesn’t always see us as we see ourselves. 

It is a hard lesson for me to grasp. My most recent encounter with it came the other day, when I was assisting at an indoor track meet at the high school where I work. I was standing near a barrier used to keep visitors off the track during races and yelled a word of encouragement to one of the runners as she ran passed me. 

A man standing nearby asked, “Is that your granddaughter?” 

“What?” I said after a long silence, stunned that anyone would think I was old enough to be a grandfather. After all, grandfathers are old people.

Noticing my shock, the man modified his question. “I mean, you know, is that your daughter?”

No, I said, just a student I work with here.

I walked away thinking the man was a fool, but also started a quick inventory of the possible clues that led him to ask his question.

I am 54, partly bald, with plenty of gray in the hair that remains on my head. And yes, my midsection is ample and my footwear is selected for comfort, rather than fashion, but all of these elements do not a grandfather make, I reasoned.

The guy’s question remained with me throughout the day. When at home later, I examined my image in the mirror and identified other factors contributing to a grandfatherly image — the thick lenses in my eyeglasses, the double chin, the sweatshirt and khaki pants (sensible for early March weather, but far from fashionable).  All the features combined helped me to see how the man at the track meet reached his conclusion.

So I started crafting a sturdy rationalization.

Once upon a time a little extra weight indicated wealth and comfortable living, I told myself. Why, there are far worse things than being a grandfather, I acknowledged. After all, I am the father of a 20-year-old daughter, and I do hope to be a grandfather one day, many years from now. 

Rationalizations typically work for me, but this time they came up short.

It was then I remembered the people around me, friends and strangers alike, don’t always see me as I see myself. I think that’s a lesson some of us learn more than once before it really takes root in our minds. Some learn it from a stranger at the grocery store. Others learn it while talking with friends at a party. I learned it (again) at a track meet, and I think now I finally see the value in the lesson.

I just wasn’t ready for a stranger to see me so clearly.

— Send email to kbotterman@gmail.com