I was 18, she was ageless. I was young and searching, she was wise and knowing. She was my teacher in my seminary in Israel, and I was open for mentorship. I think I even made up a few questions for the sole purpose of connecting with her.
And connect I did. She became my person. I bounced things off her; I visited her Friday night after candle-lighting. She was generous with her time and wisdom. I felt understood and appreciated. I asked for advice, knowing that I might not always like the answers, and that that was OK. I welcomed the self-awareness that comes from honest and loving critique.
Our relationship continued when I moved back to Israel as a young married woman. I continued to visit and bring my babies. I moved back to the States and called her when I needed advice. She helped us decide which school to send our kids to. It felt good to know that I could continue to turn to her; that she understood me and cared about me.
As I visited Israel through the years, I tried to see her whenever possible, but the visits thinned and became less frequent. I was changing in different ways as I came into my own. And then one visit was different from all the other visits.
My mentor mentioned a project that I had been involved in. And in a very very subtle and not unkind way, she suggested that she was surprised I was involved with it – that it was beneath me. As my stomach dropped, I maintained a respectful and conversational facade, but something in me shifted forever.
I never visited or called again.
Times change and people change. The mentor I develop for the 18-year-old me is not necessarily the mentor I will need two or three decades later. So much happens to alter our realities and our mentors don’t always keep apace with those changes. A mentor is not necessarily a mentor-for-life. Mentorship is a very private, personal matter. It cuts to the very fragile and vulnerable core of who you are as a human being in all your strengths and weaknesses. Sometimes mentors need to be updated.
But more globally, let’s talk about criticism. The power of criticism, I’ve learned, cannot be overstated. For years I felt guilty about “dropping” my mentor – but with time came awareness. When I had asked advice, even with trepidation, I was a vessel open for receiving guidance. But when it was offered with no context, I was shattered. Instead of feeling grateful and appropriately guided, I felt misunderstood and underestimated. No matter how old you are, you want your mentors to think well of you and assume the best about you.
Criticism is perhaps the most powerful tool in the box. It can build and it can kill. Unsolicited criticism can ruin a relationship. Usually it will not empower the person to change – but it may well empower him to end the relationship, whether literally or internally. Criticism kills honesty in a relationship and is a signal that you can’t actually be who you are. You’re not good enough and you are not approved of. If the goal of criticism is to foster growth, we should be terrified to offer it because it usually achieves the opposite.
I’m also at fault here. I’m extremely sensitive to criticism. Maybe more than most, maybe not. Maybe we should all grow a thicker skin. But if people are that sensitive to criticism then whether they’re justified or not is irrelevant.
I’m not proud of this story. But I put it out there to see what can be gleaned. What do you think?
I sought the advice of a psychologist for a long time. He became not just a doctor but a trusted friend. At one point another doctor told me that this person was probably not suited to offer me advice and then I should consider leaving and finding someone else to speak with. I approached my psychologist and told him that this had occurred and he told me very wisely that I was a free agent able to make my own choices in my life that would empower me and help me and he would completely agree with anything I needed to do for myself. I learned from his unconditional support that that was a very important amazing lesson for me in relationship to people who would like to help me offer advice or guidance. Last year around this time he died and I’ve missed him very much And have had difficulty trusting and allowing myself the courage to confide my feelings in another trusted friend or doctor. I dearly miss his compassion wisdom and intelligence that he offered me during those sessions. May his memory be a blessing to his family friends and patients. His name was Lou Orenstein
I think I know the feeling. When receiving the good kind of criticism, that understands us and pushes us to do better, it might not feel so great — but there’s a clear path forward, and in the end we are better for it. That’s part of what makes a sympathetic and understanding mentor so helpful.
But when we receive criticism that doesn’t understand us, we lose so much in an instant. Our mentor is showing us that they don’t really understand us, effectively an act of total betrayal. It hurts, and as your story shows, it can end the relationship.
In one case, years later, I realized that they might have been right. But it doesn’t undo the damage that came from the way they said it. I think you’re right that we need to be careful about the criticism we give about other people’s choices.
I believe you just hit on the heart of communicating with G-d in a roundabout way.We are being taught constantly through many vessels that carry their own imperfections ,but the true perfection of Wisdom and the intimacy that we all seek with G-d and that part of us that projects this earthly expression and which stands in the divine presence must be able to taste from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It may be wise to live with the pain of some sharp words that take us out of the comfort zone of our ideas about ourselves and i dare risk saying that they are simply ideas .The fact that after all these years you are still pondering your intentions is familiar to me . I have been cut to the heart by observations from within and without only to realize that a stronger future version of myself would eventually be ready to hear and act on them. . The words of the wise are like seeds and like seeds they die or produce a species of degeneration as our egos wrestle with the change that’s in store .
I’m not saying that what you were told was true . It may have been completely false and your shedding that relationship may have been entirely timely and good. I’m suggesting that either way the real work lies in developing trust and intimacy with G-d and in surrendering to that answers do come .
You have touched many lives with your loving heart . That may be the best answer to that criticism and to the path your life has taken .A word about thick skins. They are overrated .An open heart ,vulnerable and ready to surrender to what is real is a superior weapon.
“Rather,[this] thing is very close to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can fulfill it.” Devarim 30:14
If someone I am close with presents an experience, action or belief I am either unfamiliar with or in disagreement, I try to request the following, Help me understand. I hope, by inquiring in that way, gives the loved one the benefit of the doubt and puts him/her in the, more comfortable place, of explaining and/or educating me.
I don’t think it was so much the criticism as the judgement she made on you. Feeling judged and measured is uncomfortable.
One if the things I have done over the past few years is help refugees and asylum seekers in my city in an informal way. These can be a very intense and intimate relationships – I am helping another person at a point when they are extremely vulnerable. I’ve noticed that as these people stabilize, our relationship often grows more distant. I enjoy a certain amount of intensity and I wondered about this for a while – what happened to the great friendship we were developing? Finally I realized that my “mentees” were coming into their own, making their own friends, living their new lives, no longer dependent. I had helped in that process and it had succeeded. If I wanted to be indispensable again I’d have to find new people to help! Hopefully your mentor also understands that her tole was to bring you into your own and your departure has simply left space for another person who needs what she has to give. The day you disagreed was the day you realized she too is only human, she can make mistakes, misread you, misunderstand, perhaps even have imperfect values. You should forgive her this – it was inevitable that you would eventually see her as the flawed human being she is. Cherish the time you had together as teacher and pupil and think of it as a closed book, a sweet memory, an important and good part of your past. Don’t let such a memory be ruined by guilt or hurt or mixed emotions. You can be grateful for the past but ready to put an end to the relationship as it once was. There’s nothing wrong with simply sending her an annual note of appreciation, a family picture, a contribution to tsedakah in her honor, a mazal tov for her simchas and condolences for her losses. You are no longer seeking advice or approval so don’t need to tell her what you are doing, secretly hoping she will validate, secretly afraid she will criticize. Instead, simply appreciate her. That way, you honor what she has given you but leave no opening for miscommunication or hurt feelings. If she is wise, she will understand not to offer advice when none is requested.
Beautiful responses…
I’m a little surprised that you cut off contact after that interaction. She was apparently kind and subtle, not demeaning. She disapproved of your project involvement and so you ended the relationship? Was it so hurtful, or inappropriate?
Obviously I have no idea of anything about your situation but I have had people say to me things like, “That discussion group that invited you to join–they aren’t worth your time,” or “You deserve better than that project/employer” or “Maybe you should not get so caught up with x part of your job, because y is where you do your best work and x is not going to get you the recognition you merit, it’s just paper-pushing.” I sometimes appreciated the perspective, because it reminded me that others have made choices about how to spend their time and have some insight as to what matters in the longer run.
Maybe her way of talking to you was more disparaging than my examples here, because you seem like such a reflective and constructive person that for something to “shift forever” it must have been more devaluing than I am picturing.
In part I probably overreacted. But I didn’t plan it. I was observing myself being unwilling to re-engage. I think I was totally thrown because I thought it was such a good project and I was so proud. It made me feel more that she was not in sync with my life, than that she was “mean.” I felt a true disconnect. And remained that was. It was more of a result than a reaction.
I think you should reconnect. It could be that you have begun to run your life according to other Jewish wisdom, perhaps according to a different world view than hers. And you might not ask her advice as much or follow it to the tee like you used to. But to a woman who gave you so much of her time and ideas, you owe a tremendous deal. You should call her, keep in touch, thank her, send her a gift. You owe that to her – and to yourself!
It’s almost like that Baal Teshuva child. Maybe now you chose a path different than the one your parents raised you with. But never forget that you are who you are because of them!