When my son was a toddler, he loved M&M’s. One day at my in-laws’ house, he spotted what he was certain was his favorite snack.
I tried to tell the little guy the colorful candies on the counter weren’t M&M’s. But he wasn’t interested in what I had to say (which has become a theme in our lives). At his insistence, his grandmother gave him a handful of what were, in fact, Skittles.
The look of betrayal on his little face said it all.
I love telling this story. I like to poke fun at his stubbornness. And I consider it a useful reminder that he should occasionally listen to his dad.
But lately I’ve started to feel convicted by something else in this story: my own insistence on seeing what I want to see.
One of life’s biggest discouragements for me has been experiencing firsthand how disappointing people can be. I know we all can be selfish, of course. I know that we can lie, manipulate, and hurt each other to get what we want. I’ve lived both sides of all of this myself.
But what’s harder for me to accept is the wisdom in Maya Angelou’s advice: “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”
People often show me who they are long before it harms me. And I just keep seeing the version of them I want to see, even when the evidence says otherwise. I’ve been trying to understand why I do this.
I believe in the inherent value of people. I truly want to see the good in everyone I meet. I agree with Ted Lasso that “I hope that either all of us or none of us are judged by the actions of our weakest moments, but rather by the strength we show when and if we’re ever given a second chance.”
I hope that’s true for all of us.
I need that to be true for me.
The tricky part is that I don’t know how to leave room for people to change without ignoring what they’ve already shown me about themselves.
I don’t want to be cynical. I don’t want to be sucked into being skeptical of every person I come across. I want to believe that people can grow. I want to see and nurture the good in them. I want to leave room to be surprised by kindness, mercy, and grace.
The Skittles didn’t do anything wrong to my son. They hadn’t promised to be chocolate. But my son knew what he wanted. So he looked at what was in front of him and decided that was what he saw.
People can deceive us. Some do it on purpose. But I often find myself disappointed because I decided someone was something they never gave me reason to believe they were. They are victims of my expectations for them.
Like my son and his candy, I keep seeing M&M’s when I’m actually looking at Skittles.
I still want to offer the kind of grace I hope other people will offer me.
I still want to leave room for second chances.
I just want to get better at knowing when I’m giving someone room to grow.
And when I’m waiting for them to be someone they’re not.