I know we’re all about Tigered to death, especially those of us who live in towns with many tabloid papers who have been rolling in pun heaven. But there’s obviously a reason it’s all struck such a deep emotional chord, especially for women.

One friend said to me, “But she’s a supermodel!” I replied, “Honey, we’re all supermodels.” Meaning, I think, that we are all gorgeous, all vulnerable, all in this giant cultural experiment called monogamy together.  None of us immune to being hurt–and none of us immune to hurting others; looks having pretty much zero to do with it.

So I particularly love it when public figures admit this–our essential humanness–instead of hurling stones and distancing themselves from the icky real-life mess. I was just especially inspired by one article, “I Am Tiger Woods” by Divine Caroline columnist Stephen W. Simpson, PhD, who cops to some of the foibles we’re loving to hate in Tiger. Such as:

– I don’t think clearly when my appetites rule me. (“Whenever instant gratification becomes my first priority, I don’t worry about being careful.”)

– I want more. (Whenever I rely on gratification and stimulation to supply my life’s purpose, satisfaction is fleeting.”)

– I treat people as objects. (“Too often, I see people as meeting (or blocking) my needs, instead of as complex children of God with their own needs, hopes, and fears.”)

It’s so rare that anyone admits to having something in common with maligned figures even though, of course that is the very reason we become obsessed with them. I have a slight suspicion that if more of us copped to our own indiscretions, opposing desires, soul-thirsts, and secret satiations, this would all cease to be remotely interesting, depleted of their novel, confessional, “my secrets writ large” power.

To read the whole article (which mentions God and Jesus and stuff toward the end), go to “I Am Tiger Woods.”  

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