Scott's Philosophy Notebook

Suppose you meet someone online, and you get to know him or her. You share intimate details of each other’s lives. You become friends. But are they telling the truth about who they say they are? You only have words on a computer screen, on which to base your impressions. Without any other evidence, do you take them for their word? Why or why not? Are the feelings you share any more or less real than the feelings you might share in that most subjective of states, "real life?" Again, why or why not? Has it ever occurred to you that the person on the other end of the computer screen has (or had) a mother? Have you ever consider their deepest fears, or highest aspirations? Have you ever considered that if you met in different circumstances, your feelings might be different? What if you discovered that your feelings were the same?

Our reality is the sum of our perceptions. It’s all we have to go on. But our perceptions can lie to us, and conflicting evidence can make things difficult. I am a man who will relentlessly pursue the facts, no matter how uncomfortable they may be. But I met a girl a few years ago, a coworker, and it is with her I learned that how to address one's perceptions and how to find truth through them.

She was a woman of surpassing beauty, gorgeous of face and figure, long curly blond hair and eyes that one could get lost in. She and I shared the same opinion at the time, that one should not have sexual intercourse until marriage, and we talked of past experiences, and shared other such virtues. At the time, I was a person of high ideals, for without ideals, one can succumb to dangerous happenstance. And so I admired her, she admired me. I always sensed a mutual attraction, but friendship is what we truly needed to share with each other. And together we formed a very special team at that point in our lives, taking lunch together, being with each other on our breaks, and generally sharing what time we could with one another.

Then, the time came when she was ready to move on, to finish college in another state. I mentioned to a mutual friend that I would miss this girl, and it was at that point that the mutual friend told me some intriguing news.

"She’s not a virgin. She’s as slutty as the rest of them. She once talked to me about how she was afraid that she had sex without a condom one time, and she was worried about getting pregnant. No, Scott. She’s a ‘virgin’ for Daddy. She puts on the image of a daddy’s girl to turn men on."

This was very difficult to deal with. That night, I proceeded to cry, drink myself into oblivion, and write a rather infuriated letter to her explaining how I felt betrayed, and to what degree. (Rest assured that I have since discovered more constructive ways to deal with such discomfort.)

The next day, she dropped by work to pick up her final paycheck and bid her good-byes. She approached my desk, looked into my eyes, and said, "Well, this is it, Scott." I turned to her icily and said "Bye." She looked hurt, and she turned and left.

I couldn’t believe the way I had been betrayed. I couldn’t believe that as I held such virtues in high esteem, that they would be preyed upon. I couldn’t help but be crushed that these virtues, meant to lift me up, had driven me down. I tried to do the right thing, and this was my reward So how was I expected to react to it?

The door was closing behind her as she walked away. How, indeed, do I react to a betrayal of my virtues?

"Wait," I said, and she turned to me. I then requested, quite simply, "Can we talk?"

And so we walked around outside, and talked. And as I explained what I had heard, she was shocked. She couldn’t understand why this mutual friend would spread such rumors about her. But she assured me that she had never lied to me. For better or for worse, she was who she said she was. And so I had to make a difficult decision on whom to trust. Who would be more likely to lie to me? And most of all, why would they lie? I’m a decent judge of character, but such decisions are not to be taken lightly.

I gave my virtuous friend a warm embrace, buried my face in her long, thick blond hair, and whispered into her ear, "I believe you."

We talked for a bit longer, and we bade our farewells, and went our separate ways. This friend and I have been out of touch for a long time now, with the exception of a few passing chance meetings here and there. She has since graduated from college, and I imagine she is very successful at what she is doing right now. Maybe she has married after all. But I will never forget the lesson we learned together; a lesson of trust, which is ultimately what guides our perceptions, our truths, and our realities.