|Posted by Donnaleigh on December 29, 2012 at 7:15 PM|
“Anybody who says they are a good liar obviously is not,
because any legitimately savvy liar would always insist
they're honest about everything.”
― Chuck Klosterman
Let me tell you a little story about a Narcissist. A sociopath. You choose the cocktail. It is all semantics and is the same in the end. Once you have lived the fairy tale, you don't care if it's called a psychopath, a Narcissist, a jerk, a wolf, a fox, or a worm.
It is what it is. Which isn't what it appears to be at first.
But then, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little riding hood of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else; so she was always called 'Little Red Riding Hood.' Or The Girl in the Hood.
She lived her life well, people liked her, she was nice, she was well loved. And if her grandmother is metaphoric for her goal, what she loves, the truth, a destination....well, she has the red coat to reach it. She can hardly think of anything else. Nice girl. Have a cookie. Happy, happy day.
One day her mother said to her: 'Come, Little Hood, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will get nothing; and when you go into her room, don't forget to say, "Good morning", and don't peep into every corner before you do it.'
Be nice, keep to yourself. Don't ask questions, and don't pass Go.
There are rules, and we are taught to be nice. She's a helper and she's got "Nice Girl" training to the hilt. Be nice, Girl in the Hood. It's written across her forehead, it oozes from her smile like a beacon. Her family taught her the "nice" rules, and nice she is. All is well in the Hood. Always mind your manners, little girl. No matter what.
Just as Little Hood entered the woods, a wolf met her. I have been waiting for you. Red Riding Hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, she had never met anyone like this before...normalcy was her norm, and was not at all afraid of him. She will learn. Everyone learns. And so our fable begins....
'Good day, Little Red Riding Hood,' said he.
'Thank you kindly, wolf.' Are all kindly teeth...er.... smiles well-intentioned?
Where is her intuition? Why does she trust? TRUST? Oh, yes. Trust: Mistake #1. I guess Hood will have to take the hard route. Trust is a terrible teacher.
'Whither away so early, Little Hood?'
Funny, did he need to know? Isn't that rather personal? Ah, but he's smiling. Friendly wolf that he is.
'To my grandmother's.' Mistake #2.
Why is she so open, does she not have boundaries? Who is this wolf?
'What have you got in your apron?' Ut oh.
'Cake and wine; yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger.'
Boundaries, girl....boundaries....he will use that information...never tell a stranger things that should remain personal...and NEVER tell him about others.
Where does your grandmother live, Little Hood?'
Ah, yes. Your goals. Your grandmother. Your truth. What you love. He wants to hear so he can go there, too. Become it. Get it. What is your truth? What details will let him in? Let's talk about your goals.
'A good quarter of a league farther on in the woods; her house stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just below; you surely must know it,' replied Little Hood.
Mistake #3....well, let's just give him the Google map. She has now let the wolf into her home. Here is the invitation. It is said a vampire cannot enter your home without an invitation. Enter the vampire. The predator has been invited to Little Miss Nice's house to play. Let the gamees begin. Elvis is in the building.
Cheating, theft, lies, betrayal....
So the wolf walked for a short time by the side of Little Hood (See? I'm on your side...aren't we nice friends? Isn't this happy?), and then he said: 'See, Little Hood, how pretty the flowers are about here - why do you not look round? (I want to manipulate you, dear girl....look over here....look, squirrel! Detour!). I believe, too, that you do not hear how sweetly the little birds are singing; you walk gravely along as if you were going to school, while everything else out here in the wood is merry.' Aren't things better with me?
He charms with distractions. Do as he asks, little girl...it is beautiful, he says it is so. Isn't this fun? A nice veneer! Notice how merry we are! And yet.....ah, she is so naive. How about a little chocolate?
This can't turn out well.
The wolf thought to himself: 'What a tender young creature! ("What an easy target.") what a nice plump mouthful ("I can eat her alive.") - she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both.' (And here is where he crafts his lies, spins his web.... He sees what he wants...she can benefit him. Twice. He is crafty; he will manipulate...and why have only ONE when TWO can be had?)
The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without saying a word he went straight to the grandmother's bed, and devoured her (The grandmother -- Hood's goals, her truth -- are devoured in one piece. What's hers is his). Then he put on her clothes (I am just like you! We do the same things, believe the same things...), dressed himself in her cap (I wear all the same labels you wear! I'm just like you! Don't I look just like your goals? What you want? What your dreams are? I am your truth!), laid himself in bed (who are you in bed with, Hood?) and drew the curtains (keep them hidden...always hiding the lies, the cheating, the back story...pay no attention to that man behind the curtain).
He has prepared the home...made what is yours, his. He has removed any obstacles and people who might be detrimental to his cause. He is free and clear, and has a mission and he will get what he wants, at any expense. He is close to you now. If someone gets hurt, it matters not if it is to his benefit. Goodbye, Grandma. GULP. One down. I will eat your goals. Remove any obstacles.
Hood was surprised to find grandma's cottage-door standing open (Is this not a clue, Hood? Do you not sense that things are not in place? Oh, I forgot you trust ...and ignore. Nice girls don't ask questions. Carry on and see where it leads you. After all, this is your story, your lesson, your moral to learn). When Hood went into the room, she had such a strange feeling (ya think????) that she said to herself: 'Oh dear! how uneasy I feel today, and at other times I like being with grandmother so much.' (Red flags, Red Flags, Red Hood! You are not listening to your natural alarm system. Looking back someday you'll remember you had an uneasy feeling that things were not right all along, many times, things didn't add up....)
She called out: 'Good morning,' but received no answer; so she went to the bed and drew back the curtains (ut-oh...she is peeking behing THE CURTAIN. The place where the lies have been hidden, like skeletons in a closet...is she seeing what is there, or does she continue to have the glazed look of "I believe you"?). There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.
Look. What do you see, Red Hood? Do your eyes allow you to see the obvious? Or have you been bamboozled with a story, an expectation, what is supposed to be? What will it take? How many times? Do you even have the nerve to ask? Do things add up? I think you see something....
'Oh! grandmother,' she said, 'what big ears you have!' (SCORE! She noticed! ....something is "off!")
'All the better to hear you with, my child,' was the reply. Lie #1 in the cottage. Is the Intuition button completely dead today, Hood? Ah, but you have a belief meme and we'd better stick to what we want to believe.Ah, he still pretends to be on your side, too. He hears you...believe what he says, Hood, it will send your natural intuition astray. After all, what's one little lie to the matter? He will listen to you always....with those ears. Dear.
“Anyone who believes what a cat tells him deserves all he gets.”
― Neil Gaiman, Stardust
'But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!' she said. (She's noticing something....will she see it?)
'All the better to see you with, my dear.' Lie #2 in the cottage. Perhaps it's a pattern, these lies. And SEE you he does. Perhaps better than you see yourself, little dear. He watches closely. What do YOU see? Or are you distracted?
“The man lying on the sofa seemed friendly.
But how friendly could he really be if he was a liar? ”
― Jarod Kintz, author
'But, grandmother, what large hands you have!'
'All the better to hug you with.'Lie #3 in the cottage. Yep, I guess it's safe to say it's a pattern with the lies. Hands can hug, and hands can molest....hands are either a wonder or a weapon...which is happening here...are you still trusting the charm? After all, he is being sweet, so that must be good. Right? Nice girls believe. Always be nice. At any expense. Even at the cost of yourself.
'Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!'
Oh, you mean the one with the lies? The predator's teeth? That mouth? You see it now?
'All the better to eat you with!' Ah, finally the TRUTH! But now it is too late. You have been sucked into the vortex, Little Hood. What you thought was real is not. Now you'll find yourself backtracking to find all the series of lies that came to you, one after the other, the breadcrumbs, the tips, the hints....the intuition that twisted your belly....that you chose to ignore because....well, you're NICE. Nice girls overlook that, right? Be a good girl and talk to the nice man. Keep being nice. Maybe you can change his way of thinking because...well, you're nice and nice girls help people, right?
Mother forgot to tell you something.
And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of bed and swallowed up Little Hood.
Done. That's your Nice Girl Syndrome for you, Hood. You let him eat you alive, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of you. You were a human sacrifice, yes? How many lies would it have taken for you to see the wolf right before your eyes? To see past the charm? The glib stories? The manipulation? The undercurrents to get you right where you are needed? Perhaps the lies were more fun to believe.
When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud.
Strange. Such a shame. He does not seem too bothered. No remorse? Perhaps he was put out a bit much. Perhaps it's time to revel in his victory. Perhaps he can plan another walk in the woods for another.....
The huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself: 'How the old woman is snoring! I must just see if she wants anything.' So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it.
Funny how the passers-by sense that something is wrong before the Nice Girls do. He saw the wolf for a wolf. First shot! No gimmicks here.
'Do I find you here, you old sinner!' said he. 'I have long sought you!' Perhaps because he expected less from someone like a wolf, he was able to see the vision for the reality. He's not a nice girl. He's a realist. A cat is a cat. And that is that.
But just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved Ah, yet he realizes someone was hurt here....funny....we can be a realist and still take care of business. Interesting concept. And it is just so much more...direct.
So he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf Ah, he saw right through the curtain. Dig deep right off. Lies, skin deep and deeper. He cuts through the crud. Hood can't save herself, but someone else can get her out and let her see thing for what they were, even if she lost everything in the process. Slap her across the cheek, bring her back to reality. You were IN the wolf, girl. Did you then see it around you?
When he had made two snips, he saw Little Hood's red hood shining, and then he made two snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying: 'Ah, how frightened I have been! How dark it was inside the wolf.' Ah! She saw the light! I mean, the Dark!
Yes, how dark inside the wolf. Did you become him, little girl? Without realizing you became what he was? Just what he wanted you to be? He completely took you over. A manipulation story of his prey.
After that the aged grandmother (her truth, her goal) came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe (Is it still alive? Barely? By a thread? Is it's lifeblood gone?). Little Hood, however, quickly fetched great stones (sic 'em, Hood!) with which they filled the wolf's belly, and when he awoke, he wanted to run away (of course, now you are found out!), but the stones (perhaps the lies returned to him?) were so heavy that he collapsed at once, and fell dead.
She has finally cut the cord. Goodbye, vampire, goodbye, wolf, hello reality.
The grandmother is the truth. Grandma barely made it out alive, but out she came. And Hood replaced the gaping hole where the truth did not reside until he stole hers....she replaced that gaping emptiness with stones. He cannot run with the lies that are like cement blocks in him. One by one she has given him back his hard core lies. He no longer exists. He no longer can move/manipulate. He is useless. The mask is off. He is dead.
He is filled with destruction, no emotion. See it for what it is. Rocks fill his soul. Predator.
Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf's skin and went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine which Little Hood had brought, and revived.
Perhaps if real life were like fairy tales, we would skip off like a party boat with our martinis in hand. But after being devoured, it takes time to recover. We cannot happily sip wine after hearing of a world catastrophe. We cannot enjoy cake when a personal catastrophe has struck.
But perhaps something is to be gained from this:
Then Red Riding Hood thought to herself: 'As long as I live, I will never leave the path by myself to run into the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.'
Will she now be able to focus on her goals, the Truth, without being sidetracked by a man with a mask and a smile?
Will you see beyond the spectacles and the smile? Or will the charming voice and promises lead you to where he wishes to go? Because the mask will change colors...but the wolf beneath?...The wolf is always the wolf. Even when he cries he is the prey, the sheep. Look into his eyes and heed his words...you will recognize the teeth and the inconsistencies. "Grandma....what a big tail you have...."
The choice is up to us. Next time he may become a fox, or a bear, or a dog, or a helpless sheep....his mask may change, Miss Hood. But the wolf stays the same.
The Vampire can only come into the hood if you invite him. Be aware of who you let in.
I quite unexpectingly met the wolf with the grin.
And it was not worth the price of admission.
Elvis has left the buildiing.
My .... What a big tale you have.
"When denial (his or ours) can no longer hold and we finally have to admit to ourselves that we’ve been lied to, we search frantically for ways to keep it from disrupting our lives. So we rationalize. We find 'good reasons' to justify his lying, just as he almost always accompanies his confessions with 'good reasons' for his lies. He tells us he only lied because…. We tell ourselves he only lied because…. We make excuses for him: The lying wasn’t significant/Everybody lies/He’s only human/I have no right to judge him.
"Allowing the lies to register in our consciousness means having to make room for any number of frightening possibilities. Most women will do almost anything to avoid having to face these truths."
― Susan Forward, When Your Lover Is a Liar: Healing the Wounds of Deception and Betrayal
“Knowing can be a curse on a person's life. I'd traded in a pack of lies for a pack of truth, and I didn't know which one was heavier. Which one took the most strength to carry around? It was a ridiculous question, though, because once you know the truth, you can't ever go back and pick up your suitcase of lies.
Heavier or not, the truth is yours now.”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees
Red Riding Hood story adapted from the Brothers Grimm fairy tale, Little Red Riding Hood, now in the public domain,
as are the antique book pictures above.
Recommended modern day tales that are not of the fairy version:
Also look up books on maniuplation, "Nice Girl Syndrome," and codependency.
In the video below, I used tarot to look for the motives in Little Red Riding Hood.
You may be surprised by what you learn. Or maybe you already learned....