Confusion as a Defense

I've noticed that clients often state that they're confused, about something specific in their life, or even just life in general. When I ask them to explain their confusion, they usually can. Clearly.

One client was confused about their romantic relationships. They didn't know whether to move forward with a new relationship while still pining for an ex. As they talked, it became clear that the new relationship was dysfunctional and unsatisfactory, and that the ex had moved on and was in a serious, long-term relationship. Neither option was ideal, and this person would not allow themselves to consider time alone, not in a relationship. They believed in a timeline in their head, how long to date someone, when to get married, when to start a family. They were afraid of time running out, afraid of being alone, afraid they'd never have a family. They didn't see that their ex was gone, that their current relationship was unhealthy. They couldn't admit that what they needed was to be alone.

Another recent client was confused about why everyone around them was becoming radicalized. They understood it was social media. They lamented that everyone was glued to their phones. But they refused to believe that the people in their life could actually hold those views.

In both cases, the more we talked, the more they pushed back on their own understanding. They kept coming back to the idea that they were confused. But they weren't confused. They were disappointed. It was easier to sit in a state of confusion than to accept the reality of the situation. Confusion is a defense against disappointment.

That's not to say that some things aren't complicated. Complicated is different from confusion. Confusion is not accepting what is. It's wanting the facts to be different, so that they fit into a pre-existing mental model. The confusion is the mismatch between an unyielding expectation and reality as it is.

Most people carry some confusion about themselves. Unlike young children, who know exactly what they want and who they are, we are slowly taught that our wants are wrong, or the way we express them is unacceptable. Over time, we lose touch with ourselves. In the case of the first client, they eventually realized that they didn't want to be alone. They would prefer an unhealthy relationship to no relationship at all. This might not be the result that you would want, but it was true for them. The confusion over the situation was gone once they could finally accept what they really wanted.

Interpersonal confusion often lives in the same room as intrapersonal confusion. The same client didn't understand why they were pulling away from their partner, or why their partner would get angry with them. When we explored it, the answer was clear: they weren't fulfilling what each other needed. They were holding each other in contempt, lashing out, sabotaging the relationship. They knew all of this. Yet they stayed, because it aligned with their desire to not be alone. But the relationship doesn't change its nature due to our internal desires. It was what it was, regardless of what they needed it to be.

Systemic confusion runs deepest, because it is the hardest to see. The same client was not only navigating their own desires and a failing relationship, they were up against an entire inherited script. The pressure to be in a relationship. To conform to familial and societal expectations about when to marry, when to start a family. The belief that one person should fulfill all of your needs. That a male partner should be a provider, that a female partner should be nurturing. That monogamy is the only valid structure. These aren't personal failures or individual confusions. They are systems of expectation so pervasive they feel like reality itself. Questioning them doesn't feel like critical thinking. It feels like heresy.

When someone finally drops the confusion and accepts what is true, something shifts. They are lighter. They settle into "it is what it is right now." They become excited that they can see these invisible forces, the personal desires, the failing relationships, the inherited scripts, that had been operating on them all along. Nothing may change materially. The relationship is still what it is. The family pressure doesn't disappear. But the honesty clears the confusion, and the real work can begin.

This is normal. Confusion as a defense is not a character flaw or a weakness. It can be hard to identify where the confusion really lies. It can sit on one level, or all three at once. Many things in life are genuinely complicated. But confusion is not complexity. Confusion is a decision, often unconscious, to not accept what we already know.

If any of this landed, a free 15-minute call is a good place to start.