16 TALK IT OUT

I am perched in a public-restroom stall with my purse and shopping bags hanging on the back of the door grazing the top of my head, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, I hear someone talking to me.

“Excuse me?”

No response. I’m assuming she needs some tissue. She could also be having a heart attack. I don’t know.

“Do you need some tissue?”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

After carefully wadding up Target’s one-ply for my new friend, I reach my hand under the stall to give her this toilet-paper life preserver, but she doesn’t take the bait. She does, however, keep talking.

“Mmmm-hmmm. That’s right.”

OK, girlfriend is either having a stroke or having sex, and I don’t want to be around for the outcome of the latter.

I hear a flush. Peeking through the crack of my stall door, I see that little flashing blue light on her ear. Are you kidding me right now? She has been on the phone the whole durn time she has been pooping in the Target bathroom. At least she washed her hands, I guess.

What have we become? Look, I understand what it is like to pee in peace. For a decade, I had a child under my feet every time I went to the bathroom. But people, if the person on the other end of your phone call wants to talk to you that badly, they need to find more friends.

I am an external processor. I have to sort out all my feelings with my mouth before I commit them to my heart. I have to state the facts, plead my case before a jury, and maybe I will have enough emotion left to then communicate with the other party who is involved in these feelings. I have to survey those closest to me to process. I have been like this since I was a child. People like me figure out the answer as they hear themselves say it. Surprisingly, we may not even agree with what comes out of our mouths. We are just trying on the words to see how they fit.

I have sorted through my feelings about life over many cups of coffee and phone calls with close friends. But you know what I ain’t gonna do? Sort out my feelings in public on my speakerphone with all of God’s creation to hear me. Innocent bystanders.

Nobody wants to be hearing about your bunions, lady! And I could’ve lived three lifetimes without ever knowing that they had to scrape the inside of your mouth for a sample. Although now that you mention it, whatever happened with that?

And look, girl, I am so proud that your husband is trying to change and get you back. I am super glad to hear that he just passed his recent drug test. But if you don’t get him off your speaker, I’m gonna need the name of his drug dealer. I do not need to know all of this about you or his employability. Some things are meant to be discussed in private within the four walls of your home, not the four walls of this bathroom stall. Now, zip up your pants, wash up, and be gone. But wait! Before you leave, whatever happened with that? How will I find out the results? Can we exchange numbers so I can get the rest of this 411, because now I’m invested. And you have done this to me. You have invited me to lunch and then asked me to get up and leave halfway into my chicken salad sandwich. I didn’t even get dessert!

My science textbook said our tongue is the strongest muscle in the human body. I know this is true because some of y’all could enter a bodybuilding contest with that tongue flappin’ of yours. And on speakerphone, no less. Y’all may as well stop going to the gym to work out your other muscles, because your tongue is setting personal records every stinkin’ day.

Ma’am, do you work out?

Why yes, yes I do, I let my tongue do all the heavy lifting.

Who am I to talk? I can answer that. I make a living flapping these jaws. I sing and talk to put food on my family’s table. (I just don’t do it in the bathroom stall.) I admit that sometimes I talk too much or say the wrong things at the wrong time. And sometimes it ain’t pretty.

See, it is my professional opinion that all relationships are built on communication; therefore, all relationships are torn down with miscommunication. Wouldn’t you agree? How many situations could we have avoided or minimized if we had just said the right thing or kept our mouths shut? And why does that last part have to be so hard?

I spent fifteen years in a marriage where communication was always at the root of the problem. We both have advanced degrees in the language of sarcasm. Most of the time, our convos were patronizing, condescending, and indirect and rarely lined up with the image we portrayed outside of our home. Have you ever seen the meme that says, “Controlling my tongue is no problem, it’s my face that needs deliverance”? Well, I need help with both. My tongue and my face are going to tell you how I feel. I can’t hide it. It’s a blessing and a curse.

It is also my professional opinion that women in general are prolific communicators. There are many exceptions to this rule, but in general, we do not have any issues with letting you know how we feel. In case you didn’t know, I am a daredevil, and overcommunicating is my extreme sport. Some of you are also placing first in this category. It has been my experience, however, that men are ranking low in this sport.

Even though we are fully aware that men like to keep things easy, answering her question with “OK” is never a sufficient response to anything. It’s just not enough. All of our questions should be answered like the essay part of an SAT—not the kind of test that Aunt Becky cheated on, the real kind that gets you a scholarship. Complete, thorough, and accurate answers. We want an essay. A dissertation. An exegesis.

And ladies, what you have to realize is that your man is simple. He really is. Don’t overcomplicate things. Don’t expect him to read your mind. He may be struggling to read the instructions on a box of macaroni and cheese, much less be able to crack the code to your tangled web of a brain. You have to say what you mean and mean what you say. It’s that simple. And if you are sarcastic like me, you have an additional rule: say it without an eye roll. It’s harder than it sounds.

There is a fix for all this, though. If you want your man to start communicating more, you can teach him how to say exactly what he means. For example, when he says, “Just go buy yourself what you want for your birthday,” do it. Go to your local car dealership and ask to test-drive a new black Range Rover. Show up at his office in that car, and tell him you bought what you wanted like he told you to. That’ll get him to show a little more interest.

I have a theory that men and women would probably last longer in a marriage if they didn’t have to cohabitate. Think about it. By the time you were moving out of your parents’ home at eighteen, everything they did drove you crazy. Think about if you had to live with your parents now. Well, I did it at the age of forty, and it ain’t for the faint of heart, I’ll tell you that much. Why? Communication. It’s harder the longer you LIVE with someone. Now, please don’t rush out and tell your significant other that I told you to go rent an apartment. It’s just a theory. I am no research psychologist. I ain’t no Brené Brown. It’s just a simple observation. Maybe we should start building compounds made of those tiny houses, and you buy them in a set of two. Maybe the Sister Wives know something we don’t. I’m taking notes.

Regardless of where we cohabitate, we have all been guilty of putting too much pressure on a significant other to meet all of our communication needs. They can’t be all that. We need friends, we need counselors, we need mentors who will listen. And we need chocolate.

For those of us with a tendency to overcommunicate, sometimes we need extra reinforcements to help us know when our time is up. We need help in the event that we need to cut ties with people we have loved or people we have invested a lot of time in. People like me always have one last point to make, one last sentiment, or one last jab. But there comes a time when no contact is the only contact a girl should make. No texts, no posts, no likes on Insta, no nothing. A gag order. A moment of silence. Keep it shut.

Girls, you need a friend who will threaten to take your phone away. You need a friend who will secretly delete the number of the person you need to avoid. You need a friend who will take your phone and click “Block Caller” when you aren’t looking.

King Solomon in the Holy Bible said that death and life are in the power of the tongue. We have been warned. And that’s quite the responsibility we are carrying around. Perhaps the self-control some of us have to really strive for is not saying no to ice cream. Perhaps reining in our tongues is the kind of self-control we should work to achieve.

Controlling your tongue doesn’t mean you shouldn’t speak up for your values, morals, ethics, or justice. Controlling your tongue means that how you say it is more important than what you actually have to say.

If I’ve learned anything, I’ve learned this: where there is drama, there is also manipulation. I’ve been in some relationships that were nothing more than cheap, poorly acted daytime dramas without the face-lifts. Some of the lead roles should have won a few Emmys for their fireplace mantels. Most of the nonsensical drama and manipulation was rooted in a struggle for control.

I spent so many years feeling misunderstood and confused about what I really said versus what people heard me say. Two very different things. Instead of learning how to talk better, we need a few lessons in how to listen better. The wise King Solomon also says, “To answer before listening is folly and shame.” Again, with all the wisdom there, Solomon. Listening could have saved me many heartaches along this journey. When people feel heard, they feel validated. When people feel unheard, they revolt. When children feel that their parents aren’t listening, they misbehave. When spouses feel unheard, they shut down or escalate. When minorities feel no one is listening, they kneel or march. When women feel unheard, we start a freaking revolution.

When is the last time you looked online at comments under celebrity posts on social media? Have you ever seen such disgusting behavior? Have you ever seen such vile words spewing from the mouths of humans about other humans? You don’t even have to look at a celebrity’s page. Just look at mine. Maybe those hateful trolls on the Internet are just searching for their voice. Just grinding and snarling to feel heard. People often ask me if I get upset about negative comments on my posts. People ask me if I worry about those people’s opinions. And to be honest, I couldn’t have handled these comments five or ten years ago. But when you go through loss and come out healthy on the other side, you aren’t really threatened by the opinions of others who mean absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of your life. My family, my friends, my faith. Those things are important; the rest is just showbiz, baby! I am a big girl now, and I can handle it. And when I can’t, I have a person for that.

To engage with someone and to let them know that they are understood, we have to offer our ear. Offer our best intention of hearing them. When is the last time you had a conversation with someone who had very little in common with you? When is the last time you engaged someone who had a different political perspective or religious perspective? When is the last time you offered your ear to a person from a different generation and tried on their shoes for size? When we learn to walk a mile in another’s shoes, we gain understanding that has power to change our lives.

Listening does not mean I will agree with you. Listening is the best way to show respect and humility. Listening means that I am willing to understand you. If Jesus can sit with the woman at the well and listen to her, I think I can listen to my man explain why a wired Ethernet connection is faster than a wireless access point. Listening also means not thinking about what you want to say when the other person is talking. Oh, snap. Have you ever been around someone who is calm when discussing tense matters? Or someone who tilts their head gently to one side when they don’t understand you? I had a boss like this once. She was so calm and so wise. And we were on opposite ends of the spectrum about matters of faith and politics. I learned so much from watching her communicate. Actually, I learned a lot by watching her listen. Her body language told me that she heard me. I knew that she wanted to understand my perspective. I can only hope to be that kind of listener. To give life not with my mouth but with my ears.

Have you ever been around someone who constantly speaks encouragement? I have, and I have wanted to punch them in the face. How can you be so positive? How can you find the silver lining in everything? But you know who I loved to sit and talk with? You wanna know who gave me life in little doses every day in the workplace? Yep. Her temperament and personality, so different from mine, gave me life. Her words were so careful and thoughtful, and I craved to be around her. Her positivity was contagious.

The tongue also has the power to give life through forgiveness. To forgive and set someone free isn’t for the other person. We know this. Offering forgiveness gives freedom to me, the perceived victim. And regardless of which side you find yourself on, or which side the other person thinks you are on, the tongue has the power to give life with the words “I am sorry.” Again with the humility thing. Three little words that can bring so much freedom to a heart. Most of us Southern ladies learned to start our insults with “I am sorry, but…”

I am sorry, but that girl fell off the ugly tree and hit every limb on the way down.

That is not what I am talking about here. Stay focused.

The simplicity of saying “I am sorry” means you value the relationship over your ego. Even if the relationship no longer exists. It is possible to forgive someone and never have a conversation about it with that person. (Gasp.) For real? Me? An external processor can forgive and set someone free without talking about it? Yep. When it is sincere and whole, you can save the drama for your mama. You don’t need the convo, you just need the freedom. You just want the deliverance.

Forgiveness is such a beautiful thing. When I remember God’s love for me and who He says I am, I am finally able to put shame in its place and walk in the freedom God has called me to. Without forgiveness, you’ll hit a brick wall. Shame had no place on my journey, and I was the only one allowing it to come along. We are human, and we make mistakes. But the authentic love of the Lord was never earned by me in the first place. Why do I think I get to keep it to myself?

My mouth has gotten me into trouble. You don’t believe it, but it’s true. It has made me look stupid, and now my mouth is making me a living. I am not sure what that says about my self-deprecating condition or what it says about my fans, but my mouth makes people laugh, and I hope that gives life. My mouth has also set my heart free. My mouth has offered advice and offered grace. My mouth has stood up for injustice, and, as of late, my mouth has fought for my own future. Sometimes finding the right words requires you to find the right feelings long in advance. Sometimes that takes time. In the waiting, it is OK to be quiet. It is OK to not speak, not jab, not ridicule. It is OK to not be right. It is OK if others have opinions about your silence. Let them. You are responsible for you. I am responsible for me. We don’t have to ever agree to show respect or humility. Talk it out. Or don’t. Either way, communicate.

The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.

—GEORGE BERNARD SHAW