We often talk about leaving a legacy as something we do out of love, and certainly, much of the time, we do.
But I wonder if our reasons for giving and for wanting to leave something behind might be a little more complicated and interesting than that.
We give for all sorts of reasons. We give because we love and want to help, because we want something we have built to continue, or because we want to make a difference in the lives of people who matter to us. We may want our children or grandchildren to have opportunities we didn’t have, or we may hope to pass along not only what we have accumulated, but something of what we value. Sometimes we simply want to know that some part of us will be remembered.
And, if we are willing to look a little more closely, sometimes we give because we hope our giving will influence what happens next.
There is nothing inherently wrong with that. Much of what we think about as legacy is about continuity. But somewhere between wanting to make a difference and wanting to determine what that difference should look like, a string can quietly become attached. Sometimes the person on the other end doesn’t even know it is there.
The unspoken contract
When we hear the phrase “strings attached,” we tend to think about money. Perhaps a parent helps an adult child purchase a home but then expects to have a say in the decisions that follow, or someone leaves money in a trust with very specific instructions about how it can be used.
Yet money is only one of the things we give to one another.
We give our time, advice, encouragement, connections, and support. We open doors, make introductions, step in when someone needs us, and make sacrifices for our families, friends and colleagues. Most of the time, we do these things with very good intentions.
Still, occasionally tucked inside that generosity is an expectation we haven’t quite acknowledged, perhaps even to ourselves. We helped someone through a difficult season and assumed that person would be there when we needed them. We sacrificed for a child and are surprised when that child makes choices different from the ones we would have made. We championed someone professionally and expected a certain degree of loyalty in return.
The expectations themselves may be understandable. The difficulty is that the other person may never have known there was an agreement. In effect, we have created an invisible contract — and only one of us knows its terms.
What our reactions can tell us
Interestingly, we may not recognize the string when we are giving. We may discover it later when things don’t turn out as we expected. We feel hurt when someone doesn’t respond in the way we imagined, or resentment begins to creep in when our effort isn’t reciprocated. Perhaps we feel unappreciated when someone doesn’t acknowledge what we have sacrificed, or frustrated when someone uses our gift or opportunity differently than we intended.
Rather than immediately deciding that the other person is ungrateful, perhaps we can become curious about our own reaction. One question can be particularly revealing: What did I expect to happen because of what I gave?
It can be an uncomfortable question, but also an illuminating one, because it asks us to consider not only what we gave, but what we may have quietly expected in return.
Expectations aren’t the problem
None of these means we shouldn’t have expectations of one another. Healthy relationships include reciprocity, responsibility, boundaries and honest communication.
Perhaps the distinction is whether an expectation has been communicated and mutually understood, or whether we have quietly embedded it in our generosity. If there is something I need from you, I can ask for it. If there are conditions attached to something I am offering, I can make those clear so you can decide whether you want to accept them.
It becomes more complicated when I offer something as a gift while privately expecting something in return.
From values to influence to control
There is another kind of string that may be harder to recognize because it often begins with good intentions. Sometimes we don’t expect anything in return; we simply have a strong idea about what we hope someone will do with what we have given them.
We want our children to make good decisions with the opportunities we provide. We hope the next generation will steward what we have built responsibly. As leaders, we want the people we mentor and develop to succeed.
Yet there can be a subtle progression from values, to influence, to control.
We begin with, I want what I’ve built to help you. Over time, which can become, I want you to use it wisely, and eventually, I want you to use it the way I believe is wise.
Perhaps this is where another useful question comes in: Does my help leave the other person freer, or does it leave them more obligated?
Releasing the outcome
Giving without strings doesn’t mean we stop caring about what happens or abandon good judgment. Rather, it asks us to recognize where our agency ends and another person’s begins.
Once I have offered the advice, made the introduction, provided the opportunity, given the money, or extended the support, what happens if the other person makes a choice I wouldn’t make? What if my adult child takes a different path than the one I envisioned, or someone takes what I have given and builds something entirely different from what I imagined?
Can the gift still be a gift? Maybe “strings attached” isn’t something to think about only when we are creating a trust or making a financial gift. It may also be worth noticing the invisible strings in our everyday relationships.
What have I given that I still feel someone owes me for? Where am I carrying resentment, and could an unspoken expectation be underneath it? Is there something I need that I would be better served simply asking for?
Legacy is ultimately about what we leave behind. Certainly this includes the tangible things we have worked hard to build, but I think it also includes something less tangible: the way people experienced us and the freedom they felt to become fully themselves in relationship with us.
Perhaps one of the greatest things we can leave the people we care about is not simply what we give them, but the freedom that accompanies it – the freedom to receive our generosity without inheriting an invisible debt along with it.
And that may be one of the most meaningful legacies of all.
Patti Cotton reenergizes talented leaders and their teams for greater fulfillment and exceptional results. Reach her at Patti@PattiCotton.com.