Placing people on pedestals is one of the often-overlooked issues manifested by addiction. That’s because, as with any other addiction, our perception gets clouded, and our judgment is impaired, so we are confused. I talked about it in my memoir, Grateful to be Alive, because I did it myself for many years.

It’s not lovers alone we can place on a pedestal but parents, siblings, relatives, friends. The list goes on.

You can be the one putting someone on the pedestal or the one placed on the pedestal. I’ve been on both sides, and neither is good. It’s a disaster waiting to happen because when reality kicks in, and it will, the pedestal crumbles, and it’s a heart-wrenching plummet to the bottom. The unrealistic expectations we harbor lead to our devastating disappointment.

So, how do we know when someone is on a pedestal?

When relationships begin, it often seems that one or the other or both can do no wrong. It’s all worship and adoration, even if they haven’t spent nearly enough time together. People do fall in love quickly sometimes. It’s kind of the fairytale.

But what if your ego and addiction are clouding your perception? What if we construct what we want, need, and desperately crave to feed that ego and addiction—someone to be the perfect channel for what we require? I’m not talking about just thinking highly of someone or being authentically fond of them. I’m talking about idealization, where we’re fond of what we want that person to be and what we’ve convinced ourselves that they are. I’m talking about when, sadly, whatever we’re feeling has little, if anything, to do with them.

It may be someone we expect to give us attention, validation, admiration, and more, but they fall short and make us work hard for it. Or they may be a stand-in for someone like that because they fit the bill and seem more than willing to play along. Usually, it’s because they think the interest is genuine, and they’re flattered, or the attraction is mutual.

So, we elevate them almost to the status of a god. We hang onto their every word and obsess about everything they say and do. We can’t get enough of them. We propel the relationship into the accelerated lane. They became the hero in our story—for the moment or the era. They can tell you they’re not that person, or you are mistaken about some idea that makes it seem they walk on water, but you dismiss that.

We ignore any red flags or flaws they have, even when they are staring us in the face. We forget that everyone has flaws. At the same time, it’s typical for our perception of this “hero” to go from one extreme to another. This paragon of the ideal either walks on water or is a monster. We decide they can’t live without us, yet we fear we will lose them. We trust them; then we don’t. However, when there is so much as a hint of disloyalty or betrayal on their part, even with little to no evidence, we come out of denial momentarily, and we rage at them. We punish them, at least, in passive-aggressive ways. They’re not really allowed to do anything to destroy our image of them.

Those up on the pedestal can’t possibly live up to the image we created of them or meet all of those expectations we have because what we want is the fantasy—not the human being donning the costume. Before long, however, we return to denial to repeat the same cycle. We keep focusing on the good we want to see because shattering our illusions is somehow worse than remaining in a toxic relationship. Eventually, that final fall will happen, and it will be over.  

I used the word toxic because we are toxic when we are this fragile. We hurt people or put them in harm’s way. We put ourselves in harm’s way, too, because what we have is an obsession—a persistent, disturbing preoccupation with an unreasonable idea or feeling. Whoever is on the pedestal has all the power and can damage someone beyond repair if they want to. This idol we’ve manifested has become our dependency, our drug. If they want to take advantage of the situation, they’ll give us what we crave in spades—validation, attention, admiration, etc. They’ll instinctively know or learn to withhold it when necessary to regain control, so when it’s dangled before us, we can’t resist. Sooner rather than later, the relationship brings us tremendous pain for some fleeting moments of joy, we still crave it. A sense of emptiness prevails, and it hurts. It hurts a lot. We sense we are in bondage, and we are because we are at the mercy of our obsession. We are mentally, emotionally, and sometimes physically sick.

All the while, we may swear that we love them to no end, but we don’t. We can’t love someone we don’t see. Love, as they say, is patient. I can assure you that obsession is not. I’ve found that people need to become friends before anything else and get to know one another before moving from fanciful idealization to genuine love.

A pedestal is the most insidious prison ever devised.
Neal Shusterman

Peacock on marble pedestal image by Ron Porter from Pixabay

Nobody is perfect image by by Alexa from Pixabay