I have always considered myself a pretty clear person.
No tap-dancing around an issue or request, but not brutally clear either, I’m not the kind of person who walks into a room, drops a verbal grenade, and then calls it “well, I’m just being honest.” I literally can’t stand the way some deliver that response. There’s a difference between being direct and being downright disrespectful.
But I also don’t think you should need to channel a psychic, decode ancient hieroglyphics, or hire a professional translator to figure out what I mean.
I’m pretty sure if I say something, I have actually said something. With words and in English. Wild concept, I know.
So when I explain something, share something, or communicate a thought, and it’s met with confusion, inaction, or worse, someone agreeing with me and then conveniently forgetting all about it, that’s where the frustration starts creeping in. Or how my brain reads it: They chose violence.
Because there’s a Gargantuan difference between someone not understanding you and someone understanding you perfectly well but choosing not to do anything about it.
For years, I couldn’t understand why certain conversations left me feeling exhausted. I would walk away thinking, “Wait, did I not explain that properly?”
So I would try again.
With different words, examples, approaches, even, so that my intent was uber clear and things would finally click. They would hear me.
Yet time and time again, I kept running into the same hella uncomfortable realization: sometimes over explaining isn’t communication… it’s begging.
When Explaining Becomes Begging… and To Me, A Form Of Self Abandonment
Eww! Ouch! Yuck! All the nasty things!
Begging? Why am I begging? When did I turn into Oliver Twist with his empty, yet still crusty, plate?
And enter my next level of dumb foolery, where one of my biggest personality flaws is that I actually believe people mean what they say.
I know. I know. Where’s the clown make-up?
Imagine being this far into adulthood, nay, Big Age, and still expecting words to match actions… and not realizing they were just decorative suggestions.
But seriously, I have always operated from the place of, “If you tell me something, I’m gonna believe you. Otherwise, why did you say it?”
Fixing my clown bow tie as I run through this next section.
- If you say you’re going to do something, why would I assume you don’t mean it?
- If you say you understand, why would I assume you don’t actually understand.
- If we have a conversation and reach an agreement, why would I assume all parties are not walking away with the same understanding?
Apparently, this was a bold strategy, Cotton. #ThankYouDodgeBall.
The Clown Show Has To End
Because what I’ve learned over many a decade is that sometimes the issue isn’t that people don’t understand you. No, they understand you just fine. They simply choose not to prioritize it.
And no amount of restating, or beautifully crafted explanations, or interpretive dance will change that.
Go ahead… rearrange the words, soften the delivery, provide more examples, but the head nods ‘yes’s back… was just for show. The clown show.
So then eventually you have to ask yourself a very important question:
Self, am I explaining and re-explaining because this person needs clarity, or because I’m hoping this person will finally choose to listen?
Touching up the last of my clown lipstick.
When you finally realize that you spent far too much of your precious and delicious time trying to convince people to understand, you’ll land on exhaustion. At least I did anyway.
These days, my approach is different. I’m not saying it’s perfect. I’m not saying it’s the most mature ‘Big Age’ approach. But it is saving me a whole lot of frustration.
The Clown-Free Approach: I pay attention to who is intentional with my words.
You Don’t Need To Keep Proving Your Point
One more time for the cheap seats: I pay attention to who is intentional with my words.
- Who asks follow-up questions?
- Who wants to understand instead of simply waiting for their turn to speak?
- Who acts on it?
When you decide that not everyone deserves unlimited access to your explanations, you too will move differently.
My lesson to myself was this: where I genuinely need to explain something better, I always will. Think of that work email you sent out, and the questions that came back were valid. You, stop, rephrase and send it back clearer, right? But where we know we were clear, that lesson is that we already explained it enough.
The more we repeat ourselves, twisting and reshaping our words only to still not find a version that someone else would finally accept, that shit needs to stop. That’s just begging.
So can we please break free from the begging bullshit?
No more constantly adjusting yourself and pretending something fits when it clearly doesn’t… you’re not a bra, Luv!
And it’s high time your inner Oliver Twist took several seats back. Like, back off the stage and head out the back door. We’re not doing that anymore.
Old ways won’t open new doors.
Oh, you know I love a good quote.
Constantly begging to be heard is one old door I am very comfortable leaving slammed shut and key locked. And where’s the key you ask? It’s tossed in the Bermuda Triangle, Bitch!
My time, energy, and voice are all valuable. Those meant to hear me always will. Those who won’t or the Johnny-come-lately’s can go-fish for the key.
Because the person I was abandoning while I was busy begging everyone else to listen was me.
They’ll be no more begging, Luv. We’re better than that.
