3
Tiptoeing through Minefields
Jane didn’t like to drive. When she had to run errands to the supermarket, the bakery, or the cleaners, she’d hint, “Larry, I just don’t know how I’m going to get all of my errands done today. (Huge sigh.) It’s just too much driving to even think about.” If Larry guessed what was on Jane’s mind and picked up her hints, this “proved” his love. Better yet, Jane knew he really cared if he offered to drive her even before she put out hints. She had it all figured out—different responses meant different degrees of how much he loved her. She saw these exchanges as tests of his affection. But the reality is that no matter how much she wanted Larry to be clairvoyant, he really wasn’t, so Jane was often disappointed and hurt.
To complicate matters, Larry had trouble saying “no,” even if he had other plans. Instead of being up front about his own needs, he would disappear into his study, get involved in some task or project and “lose track of time.” Jane’s feelings got hurt when he retreated to his study to work. Larry would not only physically disappear, but he emotionally disappeared as well.
When Jane took Larry’s actions personally, a downward spiral would begin. She’d go into the bedroom and sulk. After about ten minutes of feeling sorry for herself, the anger would build. Then she would go to the study and scream at Larry. As he retreated even more by “disappearing” inside himself, Jane would become enraged. Larry would try to talk to her, to calm the situation, saying, “It just isn’t worth it to fight.” Jane, because she is so vulnerable, would tell herself he really meant that she wasn’t worth it. Things began to deteriorate severely in their relationship. But they recognized the need to get some professional help. Larry phoned me for couples counseling.
In the couples sessions, Larry’s willingness to try to understand their process together gave Jane encouragement. She felt supported by him. Larry listened as Jane described the emotional pain she experienced when she wanted attention and he closed off. She recalled her childhood, when her parents often pushed her outside the house to play on Sundays, locking the door behind her. She would sit for hours in a “sad little heap” on the front porch. Jane laughed as she realized the real reason they shooed her outside: “They just wanted to have some sex!” But she didn’t know that then, and she felt unloved and unwanted, lonely and shut out. I could see by the look on her face that she had just made an important connection: that’s how she felt so often with Larry—lonely and shut out. The same way she felt when she was a child.
When Larry “disappeared” it was as if he was closing a door on Jane. Open and closed doors were so confusing to her when she was a child. Though her parents often locked her out, Jane herself was not allowed to close her bedroom door. And a closed bathroom door could be opened by anyone. Because there was no right to privacy for her in her family, being alone didn’t feel like a choice, it felt like a punishment. It’s no wonder Jane had trouble understanding Larry’s desire for “alone time.” She interpreted it as an act of rejection—a punishment. She took it personally.
Larry recalled his own childhood—how his mother was always “in his face,” demanding that he keep her company and entertain her. She was always intruding on his privacy. No wonder he reacted so strongly to Jane’s manipulations. He commented, “If I open the door to Jane just a little bit, the whole herd might come stampeding through.” Finally, Jane began to understand his need for more breathing room.
Both Jane and Larry have been rehashing these painful childhood rejection messages in their marriage. Jane remembered how she would sit those long, lonely hours on the front steps, repeating to herself, “I’m tough … they can’t hurt me … I’ll show them … they’ll be sorry!” Yet all the while feeling like “a puddle” inside—very fragile, very vulnerable, very hurt. Since that time she has been afraid she will appear weak, so she hasn’t expressed her needs directly to anyone. If she did, someone might reject her like her parents did. Larry might reject her. Jane has come to expect that doors will be shut in her face. And they are, because who did Jane choose for a partner? Larry, who learned to close doors to protect himself from the intrusion he expects in life.
And what is this all about? In the sessions, Larry recalled how he used to swear to himself that he’d “never get manipulated by someone’s wants or needs again.” As a young child, his “job” was to read his mother’s mind and cater to her whims. It was a full-time job because no matter how he tried to please her, it was never enough. His mom’s needs were so huge that he felt overwhelmed by them. He reiterated his fear that “the whole herd might come stampeding through.” So he had to draw the lines of protection carefully around himself by disappearing. He had to get those doors closed right away. He felt six years old again.
Larry was coming from that same little boy place when he overreacted to Jane’s unspoken needs. Unspoken demands were being made on him in a way he did not understand. When Jane didn’t ask directly for what she wanted or needed from him, he felt manipulated, just as he did by his mother. Then he began to feel overwhelmed—invaded, assaulted, violated. It’s as if a life-or-death situation had been re-created for Larry. When he felt manipulated by Jane, it actually seemed like a personal threat to his well-being. He took Jane’s actions personally and protected himself the only way he knew how—by disappearing.
In the couples sessions, Larry practiced identifying his level of comfort—how open or closed could he allow the door to be? Maybe it didn’t have to be all the way open or all the way closed. He began to realize there can be in-between situations that are tolerable for him. Larry practiced communicating this comfort zone to Jane.
Jane’s task was to keep reminding herself that even though the door appears closed, it most likely is not locked. Closed doors can be opened. She does have the ability to gain access. She doesn’t have to remain outside. She can ask to come in. Jane recognized that these are all choices she can make. She realized she could choose to bring herself into Larry’s world by being more direct about her needs. Neither Jane nor Larry had to continue to have hurt feelings. Unless, of course, they chose to.
Larry and Jane’s story illustrates an important factor of taking things personally—miscommunication. When you take something personally your emotions are controlled by what others do or say or what they don’t do or say. You tend to see things more subjectively than objectively. As Judy Tatelbaum points out in You Don’t Have to Suffer, “Personalizing tends to single us out as special and to separate us as wronged or misunderstood.” She goes on to say, “Singled out we are victims and life is always harder from the vantage point of a victim.” You may believe there is intent whether there is or not, personalizing impersonal events—interpreting words or actions in a negative way as if they are directed at you. One woman described, “When I accidentally punched in the wrong number during voice-mail menu instructions, I thought I detected a slight irritation in the computerized voice!”
However, there is more to the role of “victim” than meets the eye. Sometimes the victim appears to others as a persecutor or rescuer.
Trading Roles
You may have noticed in these first chapters there are several examples of feeling resentful or victimized, of pushy or bullying attitudes, and of caretaking or rescuing behaviors. Sometimes we may find ourselves switching from role to role from one moment to the next. This concept has been described in the Karpman Drama Triangle, where the three points are represented by the roles of Persecutor, Rescuer, and Victim. The roles are interchangeable, with each person playing one of them at one time or another, and seeing other people in them at one time or another. Sometimes a person may switch from Victim to Persecutor to Rescuer in a flash, other times it’s a slower process.
First of all, I want to point out how easy it is to become a “victim” when we take things personally, especially if we feel singled out. But we take on other roles as well.
Figure 1: The Karpman Drama Triangle
The story of Jane and Larry has numerous examples of these alternating roles. Jane, in her Victim stance, depended on Larry to drive her on errands. When he neglected to read her mind, she felt disappointed (Victim) and saw him as the “bad guy” (Persecutor.) However, when she got angry and blamed him, her own role changed to Persecutor and Larry saw himself as Victim.
In addition, when Larry saw her tactics as controlling (Persecutor) and felt manipulated by her (Victim) but couldn’t say “no” for fear of hurting her feelings (Rescuer), he felt sorry for himself (Victim) and tried to take care of himself (Rescuer) by disappearing into his study. But Jane saw him as Persecutor. Jane would feel hurt (Victim), and scream at him (Persecutor), and Larry would feel victimized by her. These role changes happen so fast, it’s hard to keep up with them. Did you catch any I missed?
The classic “martyr mother” offers a good example of the triangle in action. She usually complains of doing so much for other family members (Rescuing) that she feels unappreciated (Victim). She may frequently be heard to say, “Oh, poor me, look at all I do for you and look what I get in return—nothing.” But this martyr happens to be the most powerful person in the family because other family members keep trying to please her or feel guilty and responsible for her feelings (Rescue). Until they get resentful, that is. Then they begin to feel victimized by her. If they retaliate by acting rebelliously or procrastinating or making empty promises, they take on the role of Persecutor in her eyes, because she is feeling victimized by them.
This martyr’s process of traveling from spot to spot on the triangle is much like any other codependent—rescuing by infantalizing (victimizing) other people, then anger and resentment build up, leaving the hurt feelings of a victim.
Notice how the Victim spot is on the bottom of the triangle. But, because of the power the “victim” holds in the family, it might as well be on the top.
Abusive family dynamics are also good examples of the triangle interplay. For example, a parent who bullies or hurts a child (Persecutor) is often hurting inside and feeling vulnerable (Victim). Sometimes the parent’s rationale for abusing the child is to keep him or her from making the same mistakes the parent did (Rescuer). (More about bullying behavior in chapter 5.)
One man characterizes his role in his family of origin this way: “I’m either somebody’s hero or the bad guy. When I say things in their best interests [Rescuer] sometimes they don’t want to hear them. Other family members call me a troublemaker [Persecutor] for speaking out, and they turn on me. That’s when I feel like a Victim.”
It doesn’t have to take another person to play out the triangle. Each of us can easily slip in and out of all three roles ourselves. For example, we might feel badly about something we did or didn’t do (Victim) and call ourselves names like “stupid idiot” (Persecutor), but by telling ourselves to shape up, we’re rescuing ourselves as well. As one woman said, “When I feel like a victim I give myself a big kick for feeling that way, but sometimes I turn around and rescue myself from that thought.”
Isn’t it astounding how one person may see him or herself in the role of Victim (or Rescuer), and another person may see that person as a Persecutor. And we wonder why people get upset with us!
In the twenty years I’ve been using this theory, recognizing how roles are interchangeable has made a remarkable difference in my understanding of personal and work relationships. “I thought I had discovered fire,” enthused author of Codependent No More, Melody Beattie, when she first applied this concept to codependent relationships. That says it all. Awareness of how this process works between people can help stop interactions that lead to hurt feelings, misunderstandings, and taking things personally. Most especially it can help curb that destructive cycle of feeling personally attacked, and needing to defend by mounting a counterattack.
A Matter of Upbringing
Gloria’s family has talked to each other in loud, shrill voices as long as she can remember. Her grandparents did the same. In some cultures, speaking in raised voices is a way of being connected to other people. In Mack’s family, raised voices meant something different: they meant “You’d better watch out, you’re gonna get it.” So when Gloria raised her voice, Mack felt threatened. He would react to her shrillness by withdrawing from her. She wasn’t even aware of the decibel level when she spoke. She was stunned when Mack would react to her like that.
Gloria grew up in a family where fights were exciting, and often family members picked arguments for fun. It gave her a charge to pick fights with Mack because it made her “feel alive.” Although she probably didn’t realize it, she was expecting to feel as connected to Mack through their fighting as she had to her family in childhood. However, Mack’s childhood experience of fighting was very different. Fights were serious and someone was usually out to hurt someone. On top of that his dad beat him; family fights felt like a matter of life or death. As a little boy, he feared for his life because he had no idea how badly his father might hurt him. So, while in Gloria’s family fights were life-affirming, in Mack’s family they were life-threatening. As you might guess, much of the time Gloria and Mack didn’t understand each other’s experiences. They were walking around with hurt feelings that they weren’t able to talk about with each other.
Acting Out
When we’re unable to put words to feelings of pain or anger, anxiety builds up. In order to get some relief, we often act those feelings out. The term acting out is used to describe inappropriate or excessive behaviors such as sulking, giving the silent treatment, provoking or antagonizing, slamming doors, or flying into a rage. Acting out also includes excessive spending, gambling, extramarital affairs, destruction of property, and self-destructive behaviors, including abuse of substances such as tobacco, alcohol, drugs, and food. Many of us release the pent up energy of anxiety by starting fights. Trouble is, before we know it, this kind of quarreling can get down and dirty, becoming a dumping ground for unresolved feelings.
“Acting out” is a way to express feelings we aren’t able to express in words. Try talking them out instead of acting them out.
How does someone come to act out his or her feelings? When Jason was growing up he had to be a “good little boy” and that meant keeping his emotions to himself. No matter how hurt or angry he felt, he went quietly to his room and cried silently to himself. Now, whenever he got upset with his girlfriend, Kerri, he became uncomfortable and anxious. But Jason couldn’t communicate his distress, so he did things like making promises he didn’t intend to keep and showing up late for special occasions—or not showing up at all.
Yet, Jason says, “when Kerri told me she couldn’t continue to be with me because she couldn’t depend on me, I was hurt. It was as if she was saying her needs are more important than mine. It felt like it was a contest between my needs and her needs, and there was no room for anything in between. I felt rejected, so I rolled over and ignored her.” When couples act out with each other, rejection begets rejection. Everyone gets a chance to take it personally.
Did They Really Mean What You Think They Said?
What people mean to say and what we hear them say may be very different. Even when the message is unclear, it often doesn’t occur to us to check out the meaning of the message. We may have grown up with garbled messages and been confused about their meanings. But we couldn’t ask about them—asking such questions may not have been accepted or encouraged in our families. Maybe our parents even said, “That’s none of your business!” We were supposed to try to maneuver around the issues, to try to guess the meanings. Often we guessed wrong. Often we got our feelings hurt because we never learned how to ask someone what they meant.
You may still maneuver around issues. You may still take things the wrong way. Have you worried for days or even weeks about what someone meant when they said something to you? Have you noticed how much energy it takes to think about it so much?
Besides reminding yourself that you may be hearing someone’s message through your own special filter, also remind yourself the message may be more about the other person than about you. When people seem critical or judgmental, they may be struggling with their own issues. Because it often doesn’t have to do with you at all, it can be helpful to remind yourself, “This is most likely not about me. They are probably talking about themselves. What might they be saying?”
When Judith was packing for the return flight home after visiting her mother, she wrapped some slightly damp lingerie in plastic bags and put them into her suitcase. Her mother was aghast and ranted, “How could you do such a thing? Why didn’t you think ahead to make sure the lingerie was dry in time?” And then came the zinger, “This is why you failed in your marriage.” Judith was devastated, although this certainly was similar to the “you’re stupid and inadequate” messages she had heard from her mother since childhood. And this time was no different from the others—Judith felt rejected. On the flight home, when she had a chance to reflect and was able to stop fretting about her own inadequacy, she instead wondered what on earth had gotten into her mother?
The message most likely says more about the person giving it than it does about you.
What about if a friend or acquaintance stops calling you and doesn’t return your phone calls or answer your notes? You would most likely feel confused and hurt. Would you grill yourself about why the person could be upset with you—what you might have said or done or what you didn’t say or do? The truth is that some people use other people, and you might be less useful to them than before. But do you translate “less use” to “useless”? Do you further translate that to “worthless”? Remember, this may not be about you at all.
The other person’s reactions may be more about self-protection than about rejection.
Keep reminding yourself that most likely other people’s reactions are more about protecting themselves than about rejecting you. Ellen learned this after a lot of anxiety and hurt feelings. She had been wanting to go out with Jerry for a long time. He finally asked her out and she really enjoyed the evening with him. She was feeling good about the prospect of having a relationship with him. He was attentive and seemed excited to be with her. She was feeling special and desirable. The next day, Ellen fantasized most of the morning at her desk about running into Jerry after work. Maybe he would even invite her over and cook one of his special dinners for her. She had heard he was a great cook. She did run into him after work. To her surprise he seemed only minimally friendly—in fact, somewhat aloof. She was crushed that he had not greeted her as if he was glad to see her, since she certainly was glad to see him. But he never would have known that: because his attitude confused her, she became quiet and withdrawn.
Then it got worse. He not only didn’t invite her to dinner, he excused himself, saying he had to meet friends for dinner. Ellen felt so disappointed—this was not at all like her morning fantasies. She felt hurt and very unspecial at that moment. So she handled the situation by protecting herself with a quick departure. The rest of the day, and the day after, she analyzed and reanalyzed all the reasons he might have acted so cold to her. What a long list she was able to invent!
Maybe I was too eager—said or did something that turned him off.
Maybe I came on too strong. Maybe I was too coy.
Maybe I talked too much. Maybe I didn’t talk enough.
Maybe I seemed too needy. Maybe I seemed too independent.
Maybe I was too funny. Maybe I was too serious.
Maybe he changed his mind about me and was no longer interested.
Notice how each of these thoughts is a self-blaming, self-rejecting message. Ellen took it for granted that the problem was her own inadequacies. It had not occurred to her that Jerry’s behavior may have to do with Jerry. The truth is, as she later got to know Jerry better, she learned something important about him: Jerry was distant because he has some problems with closeness. Jerry had allowed himself to feel too close to Ellen the night before, so he pulled back, creating the distance he felt he needed. And Ellen took it as a rejection. Then, in turn, she backed off and began to protect herself, putting on her own mask of indifference. And how did Jerry respond to Ellen’s coolness? Even though he would have liked to stay and talk with her, he excused himself by saying he had dinner plans when he really didn’t.
Reality Check
We want other people to value us and our opinions, and sometimes we get far too invested in this. One woman felt hurt because her adult daughter didn’t read a book she sent her. A man I know got angry when his friend didn’t take his financial advice. A therapist I know was upset when his client didn’t do a “homework” assignment. Sometimes it seems the more invested we are, the more we take things personally. We find negative meanings and intentions where there may not be any.
A few years ago I attended to a party to celebrate a classmate’s Ph.D. When I walked in, a former instructor of mine showed surprise at seeing me. He asked, “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t enjoy the party. I kept asking myself, “What am I doing here?” If you remember, one of my big issues is feeling left out. So I told myself, “Maybe I don’t belong here.” I couldn’t think clearly, I wasn’t able to comment or check out his meaning. I spent a lot of energy and time trying to figure out what could have have made him dislike me or what he might have meant, rather than asking him.
It’s easy for misunderstandings and hurt feelings to happen between parent and child, even when the child is an adult. Sharon’s mother gave her a gift of a statue of a mother and child. “I hated it,” said Sharon, “I saw it as a mother pulling her daughter toward her, needing to lean on her. Mom could tell I was upset, so she returned my gift to the store without asking me. Then I was even more hurt.” Years later, the statue story was retold when the mother joined Sharon for a therapy session. Sharon told her why she’d disliked the statue so much. Her mother expressed real surprise, “I didn’t see it that way at all, I saw it as the child leaning on the mother.”
It’s easy to personalize messages at work, too. Imagine that you discover your supervisor received a complimentary letter about your work. However, he kept it in his desk for over a month, without showing it to you. What do you tell yourself? Do you think he’s deliberately withholding positive information from your personnel folder? Do you think he has something against you, or doesn’t like you? Could it be that withholding the letter has nothing to do with you? Maybe it didn’t cross his mind that sharing the letter with you would have been a nice thing to do. Checking it out with him may shed new light on the situation.
Diane’s situation at work was a series of misunderstandings. She was the office manager for many years for a small company. It was sold to new owners who brought in some of their own people. This presented a situation ripe for difficulties. To make matters worse, they had all the old employees fill out forms to apply for their old jobs. At the onset, Diane felt that because they were late in giving her an application form, they really didn’t want her to apply. So she didn’t, until they said, “Aren’t you going to fill out the forms?” There was probably never a question she’d get the job, but she didn’t know that.
Diane kept on running things the way she always had because they didn’t give her any guidance. She was punctual, coming in at nine and leaving at five, and she got the job done. But they soon began to shuffle some of her work over to one of their own people, and she found she had time on her hands. Because it was hard for her to feel the same loyalty to the new owners that she’d felt to her longtime employers, the new owners felt she had an “attitude.” One day they called her in and said she didn’t have “a passion for her work,” she wasn’t being “a team player,” and complained that she only worked nine to five. Her feelings got hurt, and she presumed they were telling her they wanted to fire her. So she decided to tell them she wanted to quit.
Could it be they were really saying she wasn’t being loyal enough to them? Could it be they were hurt by her “attitude” and protected themselves with a “We’ll leave you before you can leave us” attitude of their own? Did Diane know what they meant by “passion”? No. Did she know what they meant by “team player”? No. She could only guess. Yes, it might be a good idea to ask them what they meant before she quit—at least it might clear the air.
The process of searching for cues and hidden meanings often leads to communication problems between couples. We’re very quick to make up a story of what our partner’s behavior means—and even quicker to take it personally. Seldom does it cross our minds to check out the reality, or perhaps we never learned how. For example, three months into dating, Tom told Lucy that he thought they had “an imbalance” in their relationship. Based on her image of herself as unworthy, she spent hours worrying about what dark meaning “imbalance” may have. Those dreaded red flags of criticism and disregard cropped up from childhood. Before she knew it childhood fears flooded in, and she was feeling negative and helpless, unworthy and rejected. How did Lucy translate “imbalance”? She heard Tom saying that she cared more about him than he did about her. So to protect herself from rejection she told herself, “I’ll leave him before I lose him.”
When Lucy had brought this experience into the therapy session, we were able to do a “reality check” on what had happened. She began to see how she presumed his message was a reflection of her unworthiness, saying, “you mean he actually could have meant something else?” She rehearsed ways in the session that she might bring it up again to Tom and check out what his actual meaning might have been.
She finally asked him what he meant by “imbalance.” Apparently he didn’t mean anything negative. In fact, Tom, a musician, had been using musical language to express his hopes for more intimacy. He wanted to see them “fine tune” their relationship to make it even better. In Tom’s ambiguous way, he was saying he valued their relationship, but Lucy had missed that completely, fearing the worst.
How did Lucy stop these fears from taking over? How did she stop taking it personally? She gathered up her courage and checked out Tom’s meaning. In doing this she was able to clarify an important issue in her life and regain self-respect.
One day when I was in class, someone started coughing and couldn’t stop. The instructor said, “I just hate it.” The look that came over my classmate’s face was terrible to see. It was as if she’d been struck in the face. What was going on here? Later she told me she took the instructor’s comment to mean, “I just hate it when you do that.” Her older sister used to say that to her all the time. When she finally got up the courage to ask the instructor about it, she found out that she had been trying to commiserate and meant, “I just hate it when I start coughing like that.”
Isn’t it extraordinary how often we misunderstand each other? These misunderstandings lead to hurt feelings unless we find a way to communicate clearly, to check things out with the other person.
Clear it up. Clean it up. The best way to do this is by exploring someone’s meaning or intent. This isn’t about confronting people—it’s about confronting situations. Lonnie Barbach and David Geisinger, coauthors of Going the Distance, remind us: “Be curious, not furious.” They recommend replacing accusation with inquiry, and castigation with education. In other words, give the other person the benefit of the doubt.
Misunderstandings lead to hurt feelings. By communicating clearly we can avoid misunderstandings.
How to Check Things Out with Someone
Too often we find ourselves reacting to something but are hesitant to talk about it because we still believe the admonitions we were brought up with, the ones about “rocking the boat” or “hurting other peoples feelings.” If you’ve wished you could check out the intent of words or actions and didn’t know how, here are some helpful steps.
Checking things out is not about confronting people—it’s about confronting situations.
Try Naming Instead of Blaming
First, keep in mind that finger-pointing doesn’t work very well here, but by using I statements, instead of you statements, you can reflect your perception and feelings and send a nonblaming message. An I statement is a statement about how something affects you, your interactions with the other person, and the relationship. It’s a statement about how you feel rather than being critical or complaining about what the other person did wrong. For example, saying, “You idiot, how dare you scream at me” isn’t going to get you very far. But saying, “I’m upset you raised your voice to me” is a clear statement of the speaker’s feelings, said in a nonblaming way. There’s a big difference between blaming and naming the issue or feelings. Remember, your feelings belong to you and it’s not easy for someone to argue with them. Saying things in a nonblaming way gives the other person a chance to be open to hearing what you have to say without becoming defensive. It also gives the person a chance to validate your feelings by repeating back what he or she heard you say. Remember, when you validate someone’s feelings you are recognizing that it’s okay for that person to have feelings—it doesn’t mean you have to share them.
Validating someone’s feelings doesn’t mean you have to share them.
These steps for checking things out are somewhat flexible. Experiment with them, tailoring them to your needs. And don’t hesitate to tell someone you’d like to go through these steps without interruption. There’s plenty of opportunity for the other person to respond.
Step One: Describe the behavior in observable, nonblaming terms. “Yesterday, I noticed that while I was talking with you, you seemed preoccupied with something else.” (This frames the interaction from your own perception in such a way so that the other person feels less defensive and less likely to argue.) After you state your perception of the behavior or interaction, you might want to ask, “Am I correct about that?” or “Do you agree that’s what happened?”
Step Two: Describe how you felt about the behavior. “I felt hurt (angry, upset, confused).”
Step Three: Describe how you explained the behavior to yourself. For example, “When you turned away, I told myself ‘I’m not worth listening to.’” In certain appropriate situations you might want to add how the behavior re-creates old messages from childhood. “This is the same thing I used to tell myself when my mom dozed off as I was talking to her.” (Use this step selectively—only in situations where it feels safe. For instance, maybe with a romantic partner or friend, but probably not with an employer.)
Step Four: Describe how you would like the interaction to go next time. “Next time I would like you to give me your full attention.”
It’s helpful to add active listening steps to make sure the other person understands your meaning: Ask the person to repeat back what she or he heard you say to make sure your meaning was clear. Ask the person to not just repeat your words, but to also include the meaning she or he attaches to it.
If you describe a problem in terms of it’s impact on you and on the relationship, you’re actually validating the importance of your relationship with the other person. Chances are he or she will be more receptive to what you have to say.
Practice being empathic—put yourself in the shoes of the other person. This is an important key to active listening. Sometimes it’s useful to try to hypothesize what might be going on with the person. What might she or he be feeling? Remember, hypothesizing does not mean analyzing. Putting yourself in someone’s shoes is different from putting yourself into someone’s mind. Yes, I know you may automatically attempt to read minds because it’s second nature to you from your childhood days. Back in those days you thought you had to stay one jump ahead of everyone else to protect them or protect yourself. But remind yourself you no longer have to try to speculate because you’re developing new skills you can use to check things out.
Putting yourself in someone’s shoes is different from putting yourself into someone’s mind.
These steps are not easy and might involve taking a big risk—especially for those who are supersensitive to rejection. You may find that getting the other person to first agree to a discussion helps cut the risk factor. For example, you might say, “I have something important to say. Is it okay if we talk now?” Once you get the person to join you in taking responsibility for the discussion, you will find you can say just about anything.
Notice I said cut the risk factor, not eliminate it. There is no denying this is shaky territory, especially if you’re new at it. Communicating directly about your feelings means sharing a vulnerable part of yourself. Yet isn’t this what trust is—sharing the innermost part of yourself with another person, allowing vulnerability?
By making the choice to show the soft inside part of yourself, you’re actually coming from a position of strength. Allowing vulnerability is very different from feeling vulnerable or helpless and needing to defend or armor yourself. Vulnerability includes your tender side as well as your sensual side, your hurt side, and even your angry side.
Let’s take a look at the angry part. It’s pretty hard to not feel vulnerable when you take the risk of communicating angry feelings to another person. And is it any wonder? Anger was so loaded for many of us when we were growing up. Walter speaks for a lot of people when he observes: “I grew up believing if someone was angry at me, it meant they hated me and they might leave me. I’ll do anything so people won’t be angry at me. Anger frightens me. I could never express anger as a child and I can’t express it now.”
Many families had special rules for expressing or not expressing anger. In some families, the (usually unspoken) rule was you could never be angry—you just had to stuff your feelings. That anger had the potential to turn into stony silences. In many families those stuffed feelings exploded in out-of-control rage. In other families you couldn’t say you were angry, but you could act “crazy,” throwing tantrums, or screaming, or slamming doors. In my family I used to bang my head against the dining room wall next to the brass doorchimes. I found a way to both act “crazy” and also feel the pain I was unable to speak of.
Kendra and Bert both had childhood experiences with anger that were causing major problems in their relationship. Bert remembers, “My dad was relentless. If you gave an inch you were dead. So now when Kendra’s upset at me, my immediate response is to hide—protecting myself like I did when I was a kid. Because I’m so overwhelmed and can’t respond rationally to her in the moment, I need some time and space to go off by myself, sort it all out, and consider my response.”
However, Bert’s need to be alone triggers an angry reaction from Kendra. She takes it personally and gets furious at him for walking off when she’s upset. Not only does she feel ignored by him, but as she waits for him to return to finish the discussion, anxiety creeps in. The longer she waits, the more sick to her stomach she feels, and the more she panics.
Where did Kendra’s apprehension come from? As a child she was warned time and again by her mother, “Just you wait, you’re gonna get it when your father gets home.” And after waiting and worrying, Kendra did “get it”—with a strap. Bert’s need for time to sort out his feelings turned into another waiting game for her.
How could they work out a system of resolving conflicts where Kendra didn’t have to wait indefinitely and anxiously, yet Bert could have the space he needed to gather his feelings and respond to her concerns? In couples therapy Kendra learned how to use the step-by-step guide for communication to tell Bert how she feels when he walks off. She first describes his behavior in observable, nonblaming terms: “It seems that when I try to talk to you about a problem we’re having, you walk off.” Then she describes how she feels about the action: “When you do that, I get angry because I feel ignored.” Kendra goes on to describe how she explains this action to herself: “I tell myself you’re leaving because you’re angry at me, and I dread what will happen when you return to finish our talk. It reminds me of when my mom used to say, ‘Just you wait, you’re gonna get it when your father gets home.’ I get such a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
How would Kendra like their interaction to go in the future? “Next time,” she tells him, “I’d like you to try to stay present with me while I’m talking about my concerns.” And that’s what Bert experimented with in couples sessions. He explored ways he could stay in the moment long enough to validate Kendra’s feelings. He found that the active listening technique worked best. He let her know he heard and understood her by repeating her concerns back to her. Then he reminded her he needed time to collect his thoughts and he set a time within the hour to continue their discussion. Feeling “heard” made all the difference to Kendra. Once her concerns were validated, and there was an end in sight, she could allow Bert the processing time he needed.
Timing caused problems in a different way for Michelle. “I’d always try to figure out precisely what to say and then wait for the ‘perfect moment’ to talk to my boyfriend. But it never came.” Now she zeros in on the problem and doesn’t wait for the perfect moment. The first time she tried checking out something with him, it didn’t go nearly as smoothly as she would have liked. But once she made the decision to talk to him, she felt relieved, even pleased with herself, “I felt so much better afterwards. The usual horrible, burdensome feeling was gone. In the past I would dwell on something for days without trying to discuss it with him.”
I always ask clients and workshop participants to state aloud their worst fears about what the other person might say or do. Then I ask, “Could the real life response be any worse than the conjectures?” Probably not.
People are astounded to realize how much energy goes into unnecessary worrying about an imagined outcome. Why not put this energy into checking it out in a straightforward way. Once you’ve done this, you might even say to yourself, “You mean that’s it? That’s all there is?”
Don’t try to wait for the “perfect moment” to discuss a problem. Just do it.
And think of what all that built-up anger does to our bodies. Where does that energy go? Some experience it as a neck ache, or a stomachache, or a headache. Lonnie would hold his anger in until it exploded in accusations—either toward others or toward himself. The negative self-talk would sometimes last for days.
During one session, I directed his attention to how he points his finger and shakes it as he relates his irritation about someone at work. Then I asked him to describe what was happening elsewhere in his body as he was pointing his finger. “My arm is tense, the muscles in my chest tighten and so does my throat, and I speak with a rasp in my voice.”
I asked Lonnie to think back again to the situation at work and role-play saying to his co-worker, “It really upsets me when you borrow something from my desk without asking me and when you interrupt me while I’m on the phone.” His voice was smooth with no rasp, and he was surprised to realize, “I feel relaxed, like I’m floating. I’m amazed.” Putting words to his frustration helped Lonnie make it more manageable.
Practicing helps, even after the fact. And there are ways to go back and redo a missed opportunity. Also, if you want to modify or clarify something you said earlier, you can do something about that as well. Just say, “I’d like to return to what we were talking about” or “I’d like to add something” or “I want to make sure my meaning is clear” or “I didn’t exactly mean what I said—let me correct it now.”
As you explore ways to tailor these steps to your needs, communication begins to flow more easily. When I first tried it out, I even listed the steps on a “crib sheet” to help me out. One day I noticed I didn’t need to think it through anymore, it just seemed to flow.
When you check out someone’s meaning, or confront a situation, you are being proactive. If you are proactive, you won’t feel so boxed in, so stuck. You can make choices here. You can choose how you want to check something out. You are the one choosing the course of action. You are taking the initiative, allowing the situation to glide into healthier communication patterns. You, too, may come to Michelle’s realization, “Whenever I finally talk to my boyfriend I feel powerful, centered—even though sometimes it’s not the ‘perfect moment’ or I don’t get exactly the response I want. Now I try to hold on to that centered feeling and keep it with me. It’s a good reminder for the next time I want to check something out with someone.”
When you learn better communication skills your relationships will go more smoothly. Try asking “What is it that you want from me? What can I do to make the situation better?” Then, really listen to the answer.
Think for a moment about when you get frustrated or angry in relationships—personal or work-related. Chances are it’s either because your needs are not being acknowledged or because they are not being met. Or both. But there’s also a good chance that you’re not voicing your needs. Good communication in any relationship depends on consideration of needs—yours and others. If you want a gold star in communication do these three things: pay attention to your own needs, clearly state them, and ask about the other person’s needs. You’ll see how often it works. Practice trying the steps in spite of the fact it feels risky. Once you try something new, it’s in your repertoire of behavior, and it becomes easier to try again the next time.
Troubleshooting
But what do you do if the situation starts getting out of hand? What if you raise your voice or one of you starts to lose control? Calling for a “time-out” can defuse the situation. One way of having a time-out is to excuse yourself and leave temporarily. Going into another room or taking a walk around the block can be helpful. As a child you believed that you could not leave. But as an adult, you can, and if you’re feeling overwhelmed by old childhood feelings, leaving is a great way to gain some perspective. As one woman says, “I want to come back later when it’s not a charged moment and revisit it.”
Good communication involves paying attention to your own needs, clearly stating them, and asking about the other person’s needs.
But let me caution you: Try not to just stomp out and disappear—it will only fuel the other person’s anxiety, especially if the person has a history of sudden leavings in her or his life. Remember to assure the person that you’ll be back shortly, and give a specific time frame for continuing your discussion.
Counting to ten (slowly) is another way of leaving. (Yes indeed, the very same countdown our parents used to threaten us with.) It gives you some distance from the situation and a chance to cool down. If you can control the angry words, maybe you won’t have to take things so personally.
Another way to attempt some damage control is to have a prearranged word or phrase to use as a cue that both of you understand—perhaps one with a touch of humor. One couple experimented in the session with witty phrases. He wanted to say, “Put up your dukes,” accompanied by appropriate posturing and gestures. She, because she felt six years old when they fought, wanted to respond, “Oh, yeah! Sez who?” Another couple decided to call out in unison in pig latin, “Ixnay isthay itshay!”
A breakdown in communication can be avoided or mended in almost any situation. When you’re feeling upset and you think rejection might be the culprit, take note. Don’t reject your own feelings by ignoring or hiding them. Instead, use your feelings as a means to opening up the lines of communication.