My younger brother is the male version of me – he is curious, inquisitive, and pragmatic. There is one exception, he infuses fun into everyday life. He is fun(ny) to be around- I am a lot of things, but fun(ny) is not an adjective used to describe me. Friction does not exist in our relationship; we are wired the same. It doesn’t hurt that my sisters and I think he walks on water.
We had an opportunity to catch up during a recent vacay. We lounged poolside, with the kid’s playful voices serving as background music and the sun offering a blanket of warmth. We chat easily. It is no surprise when he starts shooting questions about my blog. What is it? What’s your purpose? What do you want out of it? Why? I am happy to oblige and answer all his questions. He listens intently to all my answers. I can see the wheels turning in his head… are you worried people will judge? He presses; he wants my elevator pitch, and I deliver. I explain that if I can get peeps to read, pause, reflect, and redirect, be better and do better… well then, I am doing my small part in the universe. That my goal is to help discover the joy in the journey. I am fully aware of my lack of credentials. Nonetheless, I am rather good at cutting through the BS and at seeing things differently. He has one more question, is Together Joy only for women? Hmm, I pause; it is tailored heavily for females, but Nah, it is vagina optional. I am an optimist and would like to believe my messages speak to all genders.
A long silence follows…
He turns to me, “I’ll give you something to write about.” His tone and facial expression are playful, okay, bro, shoot, he drops the smile and turns a bit more serious, more thoughtful. I lower my sunglasses to make eye contact… I’m listening…” women need to use their words,’ this intrigues me. And? ‘Seriously, sis, you (women) give us (men) too much credit. We don’t read minds, I can’t read minds, so here’s a little inside scoop for your readers, use your words. Not only do you need to use words, but you also need to use specific words. Don’t just say, I need help- that is too vague- we need specific direction- I need help with carpool, I need help with the laundry, etc. Say it, ask us, tell us what you need.”
There is more-he is on a rampage…
“And grow up, ladies. I know we get labeled as the immature ones, but it seems to me that we tell you exactly what’s up. We have no problem using our words. Your’ fines,’ ‘whatever’s,’ backhanded compliments, and sarcasm are dishonest. Giving us the silent treatment will not help get your honey do-list done. That behavior is incredibly immature. If you have something to say, say it. If you want something, ask for it.”
Okay, little bro, let me try, let me practice what you are preaching. Kindly walk over to the cooler and bring me a beer. Is that clear enough for you?
I straighten my sunglasses, lounge back, and ponder. He is not wrong. Clearly, he delivers a message for all men frustrated with what they perceive as a simple operating feature gone wrong. Is this a thing? And is the solution as easy as getting our internal hardware updated? Why have we twisted our inability to communicate into a silly dance of guess what I am thinking and proceed accordingly? Only to have our partners fail miserably, resulting in all parties utterly annoyed at each other.
I recall using this phrase (use your words) often with my children. A parenting tool I discovered from a skilled elementary teacher. I used it to encourage my little ones to cope with their emotions and express their feelings rather than act out in a disruptive manner. Could it be that we grow up and forget how to use our words? I wonder how many silly arguments could be avoided if we just learned to communicate effectively?
KISS…
Fast forward to lunch with girlfriends, a friend shares her irritation – her hubby did not pick up on all the nonverbal signs- my bro pops in my head. I ask, did you use your words? She looks at me; what do you mean? Did you spell it out? Did you ask him? Did you communicate with words your expectations, your needs, your wants? No, he should know. We have been married forever; he should know. Ha, there it is …my brother is right! I enlighten my friends. Girls, it turns out they don’t know, and more importantly, they can’t read minds. They look baffled; oh yeah, I continue, it doesn’t matter how long you have been together, they prefer direct, specific communication.
A girlfriend pipes in and shares how her husband suggests they treat all communication like an RFI in business (request for information) 1)inform 2) set specs 3) mandatory requirements 4) expectations 5) set deadlines and just for fun- ask again using specific words, you know, to be safe. Of course, she’s exaggerating …a little bit…the point is … don’t assume… the old expression comes to mind,
KISS (keep it simple stupid straightforward)
The more I get tuned in to this, the more I realize that my brother’s position has merit, and the more I discover how poorly we (I am generalizing- but I feel like this is on women) use our words. We choose words when it suits us, but when we feel threatened, not seen, not valued, we have difficulties coming up with the words. Perhaps we fear confrontation, or maybe we are avoiding hurt feelings. Whichever the reason, the root is the same; it stems from fear. Fear of how the receiver will respond or, worse, react to our words.
Case in point, hanging with my tribe. The conversation is typically painless, relaxed, fun. We know, love, and accept each other. Our conversations aren’t always light; we have real discussions, we dissect. This evening, we hit a roadblock and got jammed. The tone got combative, words wanted to come out, but instead, we bit our tongues, removed the gloves, and retreated to our corners. I was taken back, uncertain of what was happening. Have we always handled uncomfortable this way? This is my tribe; we can say anything to each other; why are we backing off? Why haven’t I picked up on this before? We finished our evening by diverting into lighter subjects and comfortable zones.
Why did we shut down the minute it got sticky? It dawned on me that we have been getting mixed messages. On the one hand, we were taught to use our words. On the other, we were also taught that if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything. But there are times when saying nothing, staying quiet to avoid issues has the opposite effect. For my tribe, that evening, that moment, we needed words to express our feelings. Thank goodness we get each other well enough to circle back and call each other out. Once we recognized that silence was not the answer- words came relatively easy. ‘I am sorry, that was not my intention, this is how I felt, I didn’t appreciate it when…’
Interesting that we find it incredibly easy to lift our loved ones with words of praise. Effortless to say, I love you, I am proud of you, you look terrific. But we have difficulty finding words to express the hard stuff, the sticky, the call outs. Hard words require additional information. Hard words require both parties to show up, to listen, to learn. Often it requires saying – I am sorry. Your actions crushed me. I felt betrayed. I spoke out of turn. Forgive me; those words are difficult to say out loud. It is much easier to say nil. The challenge is when we stop communicating, we tend to retreat to a one-sided conversation in our heads. The stories get edited, embellished, and completely lopsided. We become the judge and jury, and I suspect the verdict usually makes us the victim- this is NO BUENO friends.
It’s delicate; I get in trouble for using my words too freely. I have spoken out of turn. My natural inclination is to help when I hear someone struggle, but the reality is that not everyone wants to have an in-depth conversation with me. When someone says, “it doesn’t matter, whatever, I don’t care, it’s not important,” what I hear is that it absolutely matters. I view this as a green light to proceed, gather information, and offer perspective—my desire to understand your big why and what fuels your passion is received as being aggressive. Many love to share, but some are annoyed and insulted. Some have worked on their callus for years; having me show up to file the stubborn hard skin is not part of their plan. I have learned that my ‘need’ and my ‘want’ to help, contribute, and support cannot interfere with individual needs. And sometimes all people need is for me not to do or be anything. I have also learned not to take it personally. Equally important, I have discovered that people’s failure to hear the message cannot interfere with my ability to use my words.
Ultimately my brother is right; we all need to do a better job using our words. Communication is not about hurting people; it is about effectively expressing ourselves. It is about increasing our emotional intelligence, increasing empathy skills, and diffusing conflict. Maybe we stop muddling and overthinking. Perhaps we should express ourselves more liberally. I have always said that our feelings don’t make us necessarily right, but they are a starting point to finding our voice, which is essential to discovering joy. Give it a try, express yourself.
