A Practical Guide to Being Heard and Hearing Others

Posted on by helpingsoul

Communication Tools for People Whose Brains Are Wired Differently — and for the People Who Love Them

A practical companion piece that brings together what I have written about interest-based attention, communicating across different attention architectures, and the research on what great listeners actually do. This is a working toolkit rather than an essay.

This guide is built for a specific situation. Two people who care about each other are trying to communicate, and their brains are wired differently. One may have ADHD or an interest-based attention system. One may have a trauma history that shapes how they hear and respond. One may simply process information at a different pace or in a different style than the other. The conversations keep going wrong, and neither person fully understands why.

This is a practical toolkit rather than an essay. It synthesizes three areas of my previous writing: the nature of interest-based attention and how it differs from the conventional model, the work of communicating across different attention architectures, and the research on what genuinely effective listening involves. It is meant to be used rather than only read. Return to it. Try the tools. Notice what helps.

Part one: understanding the architectures in the room

Before any communication tool can help, both people need a shared understanding of what is actually happening between their two nervous systems and attention systems. Most communication breakdowns are not caused by lack of care. They are caused by two differently-built systems trying to interact without understanding how the other one works.

Interest-based versus importance-based attention

Many people, including most people with ADHD and many people with complex trauma histories, have what is sometimes called an interest-based nervous system. Their attention is reliably engaged by interest, novelty, challenge, urgency, and passion. It is not reliably engaged by importance alone. Telling an interest-based person that something is important does not summon their attention the way it summons the attention of an importance-based person.

This is not a character flaw or a failure of caring. It is a structural difference in how the attention system allocates its resources. The interest-based person is not choosing to tune out the important-but-boring conversation. Their attention system genuinely does not engage with it in the same way.

If you are in a relationship where one person is interest-based and one is importance-based, naming this openly changes everything. The importance-based person stops interpreting the interest-based person’s drift as not caring. The interest-based person stops interpreting their own difficulty as moral failure. Both can begin to work with the actual architecture rather than against it.

Pace and processing differences

People process at different speeds and in different styles. Some people think out loud, generating their ideas through the act of speaking. Others think internally and present conclusions only after processing. Some people need time to formulate a response and experience being pushed for an immediate answer as genuinely disregulating. Others lose the thread if a response is delayed.

These differences are not preferences that can simply be overridden. They reflect how the individual nervous system actually processes. The conversation goes better when both people know which style the other has and stop expecting the other to perform their own style.

Trauma-shaped hearing

A person with a trauma history often hears communication through a protective filter. A neutral question can land as criticism. A request can land as a demand. A pause can land as withdrawal of approval. The trauma-shaped system is scanning for danger, and it sometimes finds danger in communication that was not dangerous.

This matters for both people. The trauma-shaped person benefits from knowing that their hearing is filtered, so they can check their interpretations rather than acting on them automatically. The other person benefits from knowing that their neutral communication may be landing as something harsher, so they can be more explicit about their actual intent.

Part two: tools for being heard

If you are the one trying to communicate something and you keep feeling unheard, the following tools help.

Lead with the headline

Interest-based and busy listeners often lose the thread if the important content is buried in the middle of a long preamble. State the core of what you need to say first, in one sentence, then provide the detail. I need to talk about our budget, and here is what is concerning me is more effective than five minutes of context followed eventually by the actual point.

Name the kind of conversation you are starting

Tell the listener what you need from them before you begin. I need to vent and I am not looking for solutions. Or I have a problem and I would actually like your help solving it. Or I need to tell you something difficult and I need you to just listen for a few minutes. This single sentence prevents the most common communication mismatch, in which one person wants to be heard and the other person starts problem-solving.

Choose the moment with the listener’s architecture in mind

If the person you need to talk to is interest-based, do not start an important conversation when their attention is already engaged elsewhere. If they have a trauma history, do not start a hard conversation when they are already activated. The same words land completely differently depending on the state of the listener’s system when they arrive. Timing is not a minor factor. It is often the difference between being heard and not being heard.

Make requests specific and concrete

Vague requests do not give the listener anything to act on. I need more support is hard to act on. I would like you to handle the morning routine with the kids on Tuesdays and Thursdays is specific and actionable. The more concrete the request, the more likely it is to be heard and met.

Check what landed

After you have said something important, ask the listener to tell you what they heard. Not as a test. As a way to catch the gap between what you said and what arrived. The gap is often significant, and catching it in the moment prevents the accumulation of misunderstanding.

Part three: tools for hearing others

If you are the one trying to listen well, particularly to someone whose brain is wired differently than yours, the following tools help. These draw directly on the research about what genuinely effective listening involves.

Clear your internal noise first

Before an important conversation, take a breath and set down whatever you have been thinking about. The listener who is mentally elsewhere cannot produce the quality of attention that genuine listening requires. A few seconds of deliberate clearing changes the conversation that follows.

Remove the distractions

Phone in another room. Laptop closed. The presence of a phone, even face down, has been shown to reduce the felt quality of connection in conversation. The conversation you are about to have deserves the removal of competing inputs.

Listen as a trampoline, not a sponge

The best listeners are not silent absorbers. They are active participants who ask questions that help the speaker discover and clarify their own thinking. Ask questions that promote insight. Reflect back not just the words but the meaning underneath them. The speaker should leave the conversation thinking more clearly than when they entered it.

Tolerate the silence

When the speaker pauses, do not rush to fill the space. The deeper material often arrives in the second wave, after the surface content has been spoken and the speaker is willing to access what is underneath. The capacity to sit with silence is one of the most powerful listening tools available.

Ask before you solve

Even when you can see exactly what the speaker should do, ask them what they have already considered, and ask what they want from the conversation. The speaker who feels heard often arrives at their own solution, or becomes far more receptive to outside input once the hearing has occurred. Premature problem-solving is the single most common way that well-intentioned listeners lose the conversation.

Watch the body, not only the words

The majority of communication is nonverbal. Notice the speaker’s face, posture, breath, the small physical signals. When the words say one thing and the body says another, the body is usually more accurate. Listening with the eyes as well as the ears is foundational to deep listening.

Acknowledge the emotion explicitly

When you can identify what the speaker is feeling, name it and reflect it back. It sounds like this has been really exhausting for you. The felt sense of being seen — of having one’s internal state accurately recognized by another person — is one of the most regulating experiences a nervous system can receive.

Part four: tools for the conversation itself

When two differently-wired people are in a conversation that matters, the following structural tools help the conversation hold together.

Regulate before you engage

Conversations that begin from an activated state rarely go well. Before a hard conversation, both people benefit from regulating. A few slow breaths with the exhale longer than the inhale. A short pause. The conversation that begins from two regulated systems is a different conversation than the one that begins from activation.

Take silence when you need it

If you feel yourself becoming activated mid-conversation, you are allowed to take silence. Three slow breaths, counting four on the inhale and seven on the exhale, repeated three times, takes about a minute. The silence regulates you and often gives the other person time to settle as well. Silence in a conversation is permitted. It frequently produces a better conversation than pushing through the activation would have.

Name the process when it goes off track

When a conversation has become heated or confused, you can step out of the content and name the process. I notice we are both getting activated. Can we slow down? Or I think we are talking about two different things. Can we figure out which one we are actually discussing? Naming the process, rather than continuing to fight about the content, often resets the conversation.

Repair when something lands wrong

When something you said landed harder than you intended, name it and try again. That came out sharper than I meant. Let me say it differently. Repair is one of the most powerful tools in any relationship. The capacity to recognize when something has gone off track and gently bring it back is what distinguishes relationships that endure from relationships that erode.

Schedule the hard conversations

Important conversations do not have to happen in the moment of activation. For many couples and families, the most difficult conversations go far better when scheduled — a set time, both people regulated, distractions removed, both people having agreed in advance to discuss the topic. The scheduled conversation prevents the ambush dynamic in which one person raises something hard while the other is unprepared.

Part five: a note for differently-wired couples and families

If you are in a relationship or family where the attention architectures genuinely differ, the most important tool of all is the shared understanding that the differences are real, structural, and not anyone’s fault.

The interest-based partner is not choosing to forget the important task. The trauma-shaped partner is not choosing to hear criticism in a neutral question. The internal-processor is not choosing to be slow. The think-out-loud partner is not choosing to be scattered. These are the actual architectures of the actual nervous systems in the room.

When both people understand this, communication shifts from a contest in which each person tries to get the other to communicate their way, into a collaboration in which both people work with the actual systems present. The interest-based partner uses external structure and reminders without shame. The importance-based partner stops interpreting the other’s drift as not caring. The trauma-shaped partner checks their interpretations. The other partner becomes more explicit about intent. Both people, understanding the architecture, can build a communication system that actually fits the people in the relationship rather than fighting the people in the relationship.

This is the work. It is learnable. It takes practice. And the relationships that do this work — that build communication systems fitted to the actual people involved — become significantly stronger than they were when both people were trying, with the best intentions, to communicate in ways that did not match how the other person was built.

A closing thought

Communication across different brains is one of the more demanding things two people can attempt. It is also one of the most rewarding, because the felt sense of being genuinely heard by someone whose brain works differently than yours — and of genuinely hearing them in return — is one of the deepest forms of connection available.

None of the tools in this guide is complicated. All of them take practice. Choose two or three to begin with. Work with them. Notice what helps. Add more over time. The accumulation, across months and years, builds a communication system that fits the actual people in your life.

The goal is not for everyone to communicate the same way. The goal is for differently-built people to understand each other well enough to build something that works for the specific brains in the specific relationship. That is possible. It is worth the practice. And the connection it produces is worth the work it requires.

Related reading: This guide draws on my previous articles on interest-based attention and on what great listeners actually do, both available at courageous-arts.com, and on the broader literature including the work of Stephen Porges on the social engagement system and the research on neural synchronization in conversation.

April Wright, MA, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in California and Florida specializing in EMDR, sex therapy, and couples counseling. She blogs about attachment, healing, and the courageous arts of becoming oneself at courageous-arts.com and sees clients at thecourageousself.com.

What Actually Builds a Lasting Partnership

Posted on by helpingsoul

A Therapist’s Reflections on What the Research and Eighteen Years of Clinical Work Have Taught Me

A substantial revision of an earlier 2009 post on meeting and marriage. The original used a prescriptive timetable that real relationships rarely follow. This version draws on current research and clinical experience to describe what actually produces lasting partnership across many forms.

In 2009, I wrote a post that mapped what I thought of as the path from meeting someone to marrying them. The post laid out an eight-step timeline — meet, build friendship, set boundaries, develop respect, love revealed at nine months, marriage at one to two years. The framework reflected what I believed at the time about how the strongest relationships developed.

Sixteen years of clinical work later, I would not write that post the same way. Several things have changed.

The most important change is the recognition that relationships do not follow timetables. The couple who knew they were going to marry within three weeks of meeting can have as durable a partnership as the couple who took five years to decide. The couple who lived together for a decade before committing to marriage may have stronger fundamentals than the couple who married within months. The timing varies. The fundamentals do not.

The second change is the recognition that lasting partnership takes many forms. Marriage is one. Long-term cohabitation without legal marriage is another. Partnerships within queer relationships have their own histories and forms. Polyamorous and non-monogamous structures, when they work, work according to similar fundamentals as monogamous partnerships. The legal and cultural form of the relationship matters less than the underlying dynamics. The work of building something that lasts is recognizable across forms, even when the forms differ significantly.

This refreshed essay describes what I have come to understand about those underlying dynamics, drawing on current research and on the work I have done in my practice with couples across many configurations.

The conditions that produce lasting partnership

Several conditions, present together and developed over time, produce the kind of partnership that endures.

Friendship as foundation

This was true in the 2009 post and remains true. The strongest partnerships have a deep friendship underneath them. The capacity to enjoy each other’s ordinary company. The genuine interest in each other’s inner lives. The willingness to spend time together that is not about romance or sex but simply about being with this particular person.

John and Julie Gottman, who have studied couples in their laboratory at the University of Washington for decades, identify friendship as the foundational element of relationships that last. Their research consistently shows that couples who maintain what they call a sound relationship house — the underlying friendship and shared knowledge of each other — weather conflict and transition far better than couples whose connection is primarily passionate or primarily logistical. The friendship is not opposed to romance. It is what allows the romance to continue across decades.

Secure attachment within the relationship

Sue Johnson, who developed Emotionally Focused Therapy and has spent her career applying attachment theory to adult couples, identifies the felt sense of secure connection as the central work of lasting partnership. Each partner needs to know, in their body, that the other is reliably there — that emotional reach will be met, that need will not be dismissed, that distress can be brought to the other and will be received.

Building this kind of security is the work of years. It develops through small repeated experiences of being met. The partner who turns toward you when you reach out, even when they are tired. The partner who returns to repair after a conflict rather than letting the disconnection settle. The partner who notices when something is wrong before you have named it. These small moments accumulate into the felt sense of being securely held by the relationship itself.

For partners who arrived in the relationship with insecure attachment patterns from childhood, the work is more demanding. The nervous system that learned not to reach has to learn to reach. The nervous system that learned to defend against connection has to learn to receive it. The relationship itself, when it is functioning, becomes the corrective experience that updates the original conditioning. This is slow work. It is genuinely possible, particularly when both partners understand what they are doing.

Respect as daily practice

Respect is the felt experience of being treated as someone whose thoughts, feelings, and choices have weight. It is not the same as agreement. Two partners can disagree substantially and still treat each other with respect. They can fight hard about what matters to them and still convey, throughout the fight, that the other person remains worthy of consideration.

The Gottmans’ research identifies contempt — the felt sense of looking down on the partner, dismissing them as beneath you — as the single most reliable predictor of divorce in their studies. Contempt is the opposite of respect. When it enters a relationship and is not addressed, the relationship is on a trajectory toward dissolution that is statistically very difficult to reverse.

Maintaining respect requires daily attention. The small ways you speak about your partner when they are not in the room. The small ways you respond to them when they share something with you. The small ways you handle conflict when you are tired or activated. Respect is built or eroded in these small moments. It is rarely built or eroded in dramatic events.

The capacity for repair

All relationships experience rupture. The strongest relationships are not the ones in which rupture never occurs. They are the ones in which both partners have developed the capacity to repair after rupture has occurred.

Repair is its own learnable skill. It involves the willingness to recognize when something has gone wrong between you. The capacity to take responsibility for your part without becoming defensive. The willingness to make a genuine acknowledgment of harm caused, however unintentional. The patience to let the other person have their own response to the repair attempt without controlling how they receive it. The follow-through that demonstrates the repair is more than words.

Stan Tatkin, who developed the psychobiological approach to couples therapy, writes extensively about repair as one of the central practices of lasting partnership. His framing — that secure functioning couples treat each other’s regulation as their joint responsibility — points to something important. The repair is not just about the specific rupture. It is about the ongoing maintenance of the relationship’s underlying safety. Each successful repair tells both partners that this relationship can hold difficulty. Each failed repair, particularly accumulated, communicates the opposite.

Differentiation alongside connection

Esther Perel has written extensively about the tension in long-term partnership between connection and otherness. The relationship needs both. Partners who completely fuse — who lose their individual identities into the relationship — often lose desire for each other over time. Partners who remain too separate, who do not actually allow themselves to be known and to know the other, miss the depth that long partnership offers.

The work is holding both. Maintaining your own friendships, interests, and inner life that are separate from the relationship. Continuing to develop as an individual across the years rather than freezing into your role within the partnership. And also doing the work of genuine intimacy, allowing yourself to be known and to know the other deeply, building the shared history that only long partnership can produce.

Differentiation is not coldness. It is the capacity to be fully present in the relationship while remaining recognizably yourself. Partners who maintain this capacity often find that their desire for each other endures across decades, because the other remains genuinely other rather than dissolving into a version of the self.

Shared sense of meaning

Lasting partnerships typically develop a shared sense of what the relationship is for beyond the immediate enjoyment of being together. This may be raising children. It may be building a business or pursuing creative work together. It may be participating in religious or spiritual community. It may be navigating significant challenges — illness, loss, large life transitions — that the partnership has helped both partners through.

The shared meaning is not always articulated. Sometimes it lives in the unspoken understanding that this relationship has been the container for the life both partners have lived. The relationship is not just a source of pleasure or companionship. It is the structure within which a life has been built. That kind of meaning, accumulated over years, produces a depth that newer relationships cannot match no matter how passionate they are.

Commitment as ongoing choice

The 2009 post talked about hundred percent commitment as the defining feature of marriage. I would say something slightly different now. Commitment in lasting partnership is not a one-time decision made at the altar or at the moment of agreement to be exclusive. It is a daily choice that gets remade across the years.

Every long-term partnership goes through periods when one or both partners genuinely consider whether they want to continue. This is not a sign of failure. It is a sign that the partnership is real and consequential. The partners who continue across these moments do so because they have made the choice to continue. The choice is not always certain. It is often made in conditions of doubt. But it is made, and remade, and remade again across the years.

This framing changes how we understand commitment. It is not the absence of doubt. It is the willingness to act in the direction of the partnership despite the doubt, and to bring whatever the doubt is about into the relationship rather than carrying it alone. The strongest partnerships have rooms in them for the difficult conversations about the partnership itself.

What I would tell a younger version of myself

If I could speak to the therapist who wrote the 2009 post, I would tell her several things.

The timeline does not matter. What matters is what happens within whatever timeline the relationship actually unfolds along.

Marriage is not the goal. The goal is a partnership that allows both people to live in a way that feels genuinely theirs, with someone who knows them and is known by them, across the long arc of a life.

Friendship matters more than passion. Passion comes and goes in long partnership. Friendship, properly tended, deepens.

Repair matters more than avoiding conflict. The couple who never fights is rarely the couple whose relationship lasts. The couple who fights and repairs is.

The work continues. There is no moment when you have arrived at a lasting partnership and can stop building it. The building is the partnership.

If you are in the early stages of a relationship

If you are in the early period of a relationship and trying to determine whether this person could be a lasting partner, here are the questions worth asking yourself. Not on a timetable. Whenever they become relevant.

Is there a genuine friendship underneath the chemistry? Do you actually enjoy this person’s company when you are not romantically engaged with them?

Can you imagine being known by this person at the depth that long partnership requires? Are they capable of receiving you, and are you capable of receiving them, beyond the surface?

How do they handle conflict and repair? Are they capable of taking responsibility for their part in difficulty? Can they offer genuine acknowledgment without becoming defensive?

Are their values and life goals genuinely compatible with yours, or are you assuming compatibility that has not actually been tested?

Do you feel respected by them in the small daily moments, and do you respect them similarly? Is there any contempt in either direction that has begun to enter the interaction?

Are there patterns from their family of origin or yours that you can see playing out in the relationship, and is there room to work with those patterns together?

Do you both have the capacity to maintain your individual lives within the partnership, or is one or both of you losing yourselves into the relationship?

These questions take time to answer honestly. The relationships that last typically allow the time for these questions to surface and be addressed. The relationships that move too quickly past these questions often arrive at the larger commitment with answers that have not been earned.

If you are in an established partnership

If you are in an established partnership and reading this article, the questions are different. The work is not whether to commit. The work is how to sustain what you have built.

The same elements apply. The friendship needs continued tending. The attachment security needs daily renewal. The respect needs to be protected from the small erosions that accumulate over years. The repair after conflict needs to remain a practice rather than something that has become rare. The differentiation needs to be preserved so that you do not lose yourself into the relationship. The shared meaning needs to be allowed to evolve as the lives you are living evolve. The commitment needs to be remade rather than assumed.

Couples therapy can be useful at many points in lasting partnership — not only when the relationship is in crisis. Working with a clinician who understands attachment, who can hold both partners’ nervous systems at once, who can address the somatic dimensions of long partnership rather than only the verbal ones, often produces real growth in relationships that are already functioning. The work is not about fixing what is broken. It is about deepening what is already real.

A closing thought

Lasting partnership is one of the most demanding things a human being can attempt. It is also one of the most rewarding. The partnership that endures across decades does not endure because it was easy or because both partners are uniquely well-suited to each other. It endures because both partners have done the daily work of building and rebuilding it across the years.

If you are in a relationship that is working, honor it. Tend to it. Notice what makes it real, and continue investing in what makes it real. The relationship is not a destination you arrive at. It is the daily practice of choosing to remain in it, to develop with it, to be changed by it across the years.

And if you are searching for a lasting partnership and have not yet found one, the search is real and worth doing. The conditions that produce lasting partnership are recognizable. With enough self-knowledge and enough willingness to do the work, the conditions can be met. The path is rarely linear. The destination, when it is reached, is worth the journey.

Further reading: John Gottman and Julie Gottman, The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work and What Makes Love Last. Sue Johnson, Hold Me Tight. Stan Tatkin, Wired for Love. Esther Perel, Mating in Captivity. For clinical work with couples in California or Florida, visit thecourageousself.com.

April Wright, MA, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in California and Florida specializing in EMDR, sex therapy, and couples counseling. She trained in sex and couples therapy at AACAST at UCLA. She blogs about attachment, healing, and the courageous arts of becoming oneself at courageous-arts.com and sees clients at thecourageousself.com.

How to Speak Clearly When Things Get Heated

Posted on by helpingsoul

 

A Practical Approach to Assertive Communication, Updated for What I Have Learned in the Years Since I First Wrote About This

A substantial revision of an earlier 2014 post titled 6 Tips to Improve Communication with Difficult People. The skills are largely the same. The framing has matured.

In 2014, I wrote a blog post called 6 Tips to Improve Communication with Difficult People. The skills in it were sound. The framing was a product of its moment, and there is one thing I would change before anything else.

The word difficult, in that title, located the problem entirely in the other person. The reader was the reasonable one. The other was the difficult one. This framing was popular in self-help writing of the era, and it has not aged well, for two reasons.

First, almost no one is purely difficult. The person who feels difficult to you is usually someone whose own nervous system is activated, whose own communication patterns developed in their own history, and who is responding to you according to dynamics that include both of you. Naming them as difficult flattens what is actually a co-created pattern.

Second, the framing implicitly excuses the reader from examining their own contribution. The communication you are struggling with is rarely produced by the other person alone. Your response patterns, your tone, your timing, your assumptions about what they meant — all of it is part of what is happening. Naming them as the difficult one closes off the more useful question, which is what would shift if you changed something about how you are showing up.

So this refresh begins with a different framing. The skills below are for any conversation that has become activated, whoever is producing the activation. The goal is not to learn to manage difficult people. The goal is to learn to communicate clearly when the conditions for clear communication have started to deteriorate — which can happen with anyone, including yourself.

Where assertive communication comes from

Most of us did not learn assertive communication in our families. We learned other things. We learned to suppress our own thoughts and feelings to keep the peace. We learned to manage other people’s emotional weather to keep ourselves safe. We learned to say yes when we meant no, to swallow what we needed to say in order to stay connected to someone we feared losing. We learned to be invisible when visibility had been costly.

These patterns were not failures of character. They were survival adaptations. The child who learned to suppress her own voice did so because her voice was unwelcome, mocked, criticized, or punished. The body that learned to swallow what it needed to say was protecting the relational connection that the child needed to survive. The adaptations made sense at the time. They worked. They kept the child safe.

As adults, the same adaptations cost us. The voice that learned to suppress itself in childhood continues to suppress itself in adult relationships that could actually receive it. The body that learned to swallow needed words continues to swallow them with the people who could actually hear them. The conditions have changed. The system has not yet updated.

Learning assertive communication as an adult is the work of updating the system. Slowly. With practice. With the recognition that the skill was suppressed for survival reasons and is being rebuilt now under different conditions. The skill is learnable. The work is real. And the relationships in your life that can survive your assertiveness will become stronger as you develop it. The ones that cannot will reveal what they actually were.

Regulate first

Before any technique, before any acronym, before any specific words you might use, the most important element of assertive communication is the state of your nervous system. Words spoken from activation almost always fail. The technical content of what you said may be perfect. The delivery, shaped by the activation in your body, will land as something different. Your face will signal something other than what your words say. Your tone will carry the urgency that came from the activation rather than the steadiness that effective communication requires. The other person, sensing the activation, will respond to that rather than to your content.

The single most important thing you can do before initiating an important conversation, or in the middle of a conversation that has begun to get heated, is to regulate. Not perfectly. Just enough.

If you can, take the conversation somewhere quieter. Walk away if necessary and return when you are calmer. There is no rule that important conversations have to happen in the moment of activation. Most are better when both parties are regulated.

If you cannot leave, take silence in the conversation itself. Three deep breaths, slow, with the exhale longer than the inhale. Four counts in, seven counts out, three cycles. About a minute of silence. Silence is allowed. It often produces a different conversation than the one that was about to happen.

Notice your own body. Is your chest tight? Your jaw clenched? Your breath shallow? These are signs the system has moved from social engagement into mobilization. From this state, the words you say will not land the way you want them to. Regulate first. Speak from steadier ground.

The skill itself — what I called PASARR in the original

With the regulation in place, here is the structure of an assertive exchange. The original post called this PASARR — Pause, Acknowledge the Truth, Stay True to Self, Ask for a Request, Repeat, Repair. The acronym still works as a memory aid. The content of each step is essentially the same now as it was then, with some refinement.

Pause

Before you respond to what was just said, take a moment. Notice your own reaction. Notice what wants to come out of your mouth. Notice whether what wants to come out is actually what you mean to say, or whether it is the reflexive defensiveness, justification, or compliance that your earlier conditioning trained you to produce.

The pause is short. Sometimes only a few seconds. But it is the space in which choice becomes possible. Without the pause, your response is automatic. With the pause, you can choose.

This is a learnable skill in its own right. People who have spent decades responding reflexively often need to practice the pause many times before it becomes natural. The early attempts feel awkward. The other person may notice the silence and ask if you are okay. You can say yes. You are just thinking before you speak. This is allowed.

Acknowledge what is true

If the other person has said something that contains accurate information, acknowledge it. This is not capitulation. It is not agreeing with the entirety of their position. It is acknowledging the specific kernel of truth in what they said.

If your partner says you have been distracted lately, and you have been distracted lately, do not deny it. Say yes, I have been distracted. Tell me more about what you have been noticing. This acknowledgment de-escalates the dynamic. It signals to the other person that you are not going to fight them on every point. It also clears space for the actual conversation, which is usually somewhere underneath the surface complaint.

If your boss says your work has been below standard, and you can identify one specific instance where this is true, name it. *You are right about the report I turned in last Tuesday. That was not my best work. The presentation I delivered on Thursday, on the other hand, was strong.* Specificity matters. Generalized criticism becomes more workable when met with specific acknowledgment of what is true and specific clarification of what is not.

If the other person has said nothing accurate, you do not have to invent something. But often there is something accurate in even the most charged communication. Finding it is part of the work.

Stay true to yourself

Use I statements. Not the cliched I-feel-when-you-do-this format that has become a parody of itself, but the genuine practice of speaking from your own experience rather than reporting on the other person’s behavior as if it were the only fact in the room.

Instead of *you never listen to me*, try *I have been feeling unheard in our conversations this week*. The difference is significant. The first is a global statement about the other person that they will resist. The second is a report from your own experience that the other person can engage with.

This is harder than it sounds, especially when the activation is high. The instinct in difficult conversation is to focus on what the other person is doing wrong. Learning to redirect that energy toward what you are actually experiencing is part of the practice.

Ask for what you want

After acknowledging what is true and speaking from your own experience, name what you would like to be different. Specifically. Concretely. In a way the other person can actually respond to.

*When you are late and do not call, I find myself worrying and getting angry. Would you be willing to text me if you are going to be more than ten minutes late?* That is a specific request that the other person can say yes or no to.

*You need to be more considerate* is not a request. It is a vague criticism. The other person cannot do anything specific with it. They will respond defensively because the statement does not give them a path to action.

Specific requests, made from a regulated state, with acknowledgment of what is true and speaking from your own experience, are the actual mechanism by which relationships shift over time.

Reflect and repeat

Ask the other person to share what they heard. Not as a test. As a way to ensure mutual understanding. *Can you tell me what you are hearing me say?* They will often paraphrase back something slightly different from what you meant. This is information. You can clarify. They can clarify what they meant when they said the thing that activated you. Over time, the gap between intent and impact narrows.

Repair

If the conversation has gotten heated, if either of you has said something that landed harder than intended, name it. *That came out sharper than I meant it. Let me try again.* Repair is one of the most powerful tools in any relationship. The capacity to recognize when something has gone off track and to gently bring it back is what distinguishes relationships that endure from relationships that gradually erode.

Repair does not require either of you to be the one entirely at fault. It just requires the willingness to attend to what is happening between you and to try again with more care.

A note on what makes this hard

Reading these steps, you may notice that none of them is complicated. The skills are simple. They are also profoundly difficult to do in the moments when they would help most.

This is because the moments when you would most need these skills are also the moments when your nervous system is most activated. The pause is harder when you are flooded. The acknowledgment of truth is harder when you feel attacked. The I statements are harder when the urge is to focus on what the other person is doing wrong. The request is harder when what you really want is to be understood without having to make a request.

This is the work. You practice the skills in low-stakes moments so that they are partially available in high-stakes moments. You catch yourself, sometimes after the fact, and reflect on what you might have done differently. You return to the practice. You get better, slowly, over years.

And in the meantime, you are not failing. You are practicing a skill that most of us were not taught and that takes most adults a long time to develop. Patience with yourself is part of the work.

Where to begin

Pick one upcoming conversation that you anticipate being difficult. Before it happens, rehearse what you want to say. Use the structure: pause, acknowledge what is true, speak from your own experience, ask for what you want.

Notice your own state before the conversation begins. If you are activated, take five minutes to regulate first. Walk. Breathe. Place your hand on your heart and your belly. Do not begin the conversation until your system is closer to baseline.

Have the conversation. Notice what worked. Notice what did not. Notice where the practice was easy and where you reverted to old patterns. None of this is failure. It is data.

Repeat with the next conversation. Each one builds capacity for the next. Over months and years, the skills become more available. The relationships that can hold your developing voice will deepen. The relationships that cannot will reveal themselves.

And the felt sense of speaking your truth, in a moment that requires it, from a regulated state, with care for the other person and care for yourself, is one of the most powerful experiences available to a person who has spent decades silencing themselves. It is worth the practice. It is worth the awkward early attempts. It is worth the patience the work requires.

In love and dignity, speak the truth — as we think, feel, and know it — and it shall set us free.

— Melody Beattie

Further reading: Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life. Harriet Lerner, The Dance of Anger. Brené Brown’s work on vulnerability and difficult conversations. For the companion piece on detachment with love, see The Art of Detachment with Love on courageous-arts.com.

April Wright, MA, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in California and Florida. She blogs about attachment, healing, and the courageous arts of becoming oneself at courageous-arts.com and sees clients at thecourageousself.com.

When Waiting Becomes the Pattern: How Empty Promises Keep You Stuck

Posted on by helpingsoul
romantic pinky promise gesture outdoors

Recognizing the gap between what people say and what they do — in business, in relationships, and with yourself

Have you ever caught yourself rehearsing a conversation in your head — one where you finally say exactly the right thing, and this time, they actually hear you?

Maybe it’s a colleague who has been promising to follow through for months. A partner who keeps almost being ready. A parent whose reassurances have become so familiar they’ve lost all meaning. Or perhaps it’s the quieter version — the promise you keep making to yourself that never quite becomes action.

If you recognize that feeling — the particular exhaustion of waiting for words to become real — this is for you.

When Words Stop Meaning Anything

Words like love, sorry, and I promise carry weight. Or they should.

Used with sincerity and followed by action, they are among the most powerful things one person can offer another. But when they are offered habitually — as social etiquette, as performance, as a way of appearing accountable without actually being accountable — they become something else entirely.

Love you becomes a closing line rather than a declaration of presence. Sorry becomes a band-aid applied to a wound that keeps reopening. I promise becomes reassurance designed to maintain your patience rather than honor your trust.

The etiquette is observed. The right words are said. But etiquette without sincerity is performance. And performance — however polished — is a form of manipulation. It creates the appearance of something real while providing none of its substance.

Love is a verb. So is sorry. So is promise. Without action behind them, they are just words.

The Carrot That Keeps Moving

There is a particular cruelty in almost-delivery.

It is not the clean break of someone who simply doesn’t follow through. It is something more subtle — and more damaging. It is the person who maintains your hope with just enough effort to keep you engaged, while never actually delivering what they promised.

You have heard the phrases. You may have said them yourself:

“I haven’t forgotten.” “I’m working on it.” “I’ve just been really busy.” “Give me a little more time.”

Each one does the same thing: it keeps you waiting without making you leave. The carrot stays just within reach — and then moves.

This pattern shows up everywhere. In the workplace — the promotion that has been almost ready for eighteen months, the client who is definitely moving forward, the deal that is always nearly done. In personal relationships — the partner who is almost ready to commit, the friend who always needs you but is never quite available, the parent who offers warmth without accountability. And in the most private relationship of all — the one you have with yourself, where I’ll start Monday and I’m waiting for the right time become the same breadcrumbs you’ve learned to distrust in others.

In every arena, the impact is the same: you are waiting. Deferring your needs. Pausing your forward motion for something that never quite arrives.

And that waiting has a cost.

What Staying Is Really Costing You

The cost is not always obvious. It accumulates slowly — in the energy spent hoping, in the decisions deferred, in the gradual erosion of trust in your own judgment.

Because here is what happens when you stay too long in a pattern of empty promises: you begin to negotiate with yourself. You lower the standard. You tell yourself that partial follow-through is progress, that reassurance is the same as action, that the breadcrumbs are proof enough that something real is there.

And each time you accept less than what was promised, you teach yourself something: that your needs are negotiable. That your time is not particularly valuable. That the gap between words and actions is simply something to be tolerated.

That is self-abandonment. And it happens so gradually that most people don’t recognize it until they are very far from themselves.

The Beginning of a Different Choice

The shift begins with a simple but demanding question: Am I being given evidence — or am I being given reassurance?

Evidence looks like sustained, consistent action over time. Reassurance looks like words carefully calibrated to maintain your patience without advancing the promise.

Once you learn to tell the difference, everything changes. Because you stop evaluating relationships — personal and professional — based on what people say they will do, and start evaluating them based on what they actually do.

And from that place of clarity, real boundaries become possible. Not vague wishes or warnings, but specific, time-bound commitments with real consequences — consequences you are prepared to enforce.

The full framework for building those boundaries — with timeframes, consequences, and the courage to follow through — is explored in depth in the complete version of this article at TheCourageousSelf.com. Because this work deserves more than a summary. It deserves your full attention.

The complete article — including the three-part boundary framework, how this pattern shows up differently in business versus personal relationships, and why walking away is sometimes the most loving thing you can do — is available atTheCourageousSelf.com

If this resonated with you and you are ready to stop waiting and start building a life where words and actions align, I invite you to reach out.

This work takes courage. And you don’t have to do it alone.

april@thecourageousself.com

Accepting Imperfections in Relationships

Posted on by helpingsoul
man and woman closing their eyes

Most people enter relationships with an unspoken hope:
“If this one thing were different, everything would feel better.”

We try to communicate it more clearly.
We try to be patient.
Sometimes, we try to change them—subtly or directly.

But here’s the truth most people avoid:
You cannot change your partner—and trying to often creates the very distance you fear.

Part One: The Ideal Partner

Take a moment and imagine your ideal partner.
Someone who is:

• Emotionally attuned
• Supportive and loving
• Interesting and engaging
• Honest and trustworthy
• Fun, grounded, and available
• Aligned with your values and lifestyle

You may want someone who:

• Listens deeply
• Shares your interests
• Is affectionate and connected
• Gives you space when you need it
• Shows up consistently and reliably

This vision matters.
It reflects your longings, your needs, and your values.

But here’s where the work begins.

Part Two: The Reality of Being Human

Now consider this:
No partner exists without contradiction.

Every person you choose will also come with traits that challenge you.

They may:

• Withdraw when overwhelmed
• Struggle with communication
• Have habits that irritate you
• See the world differently than you do
• Fall short in ways that activate your sensitivity

This is not failure.
This is human complexity.

For example, you may be drawn to a partner who is independent and self-sufficient—
but that same independence may show up as emotional distance when you’re needing closeness.

Or you may love that your partner is easygoing and flexible—
but find yourself frustrated when they avoid structure or difficult conversations.

These are not contradictions to fix.
They are patterns to understand.

In relationships, we are not choosing whether there will be imperfections.
We are choosing which imperfections we are willing to grow with.

This is one of the most important—and often avoided—truths in love.

A More Conscious Question

Instead of asking:
“How do I change my partner?”

The question becomes:
“Can I accept this person as they are, while also honoring what I need?”

This doesn’t mean tolerating harm, disrespect, or emotional neglect.
It means recognizing the difference between:

• True incompatibility
• and
• The discomfort of difference

Growth in relationships often lives in that space.

Part Three: A Practice in Awareness and Acceptance

For the next few days, try a simple but powerful experiment.

Instead of focusing on what frustrates you, gently shift your attention:

• Notice what your partner does well
• Acknowledge the qualities you appreciate
• Observe your urge to criticize or correct—without acting on it

This is not about suppressing your needs.
It’s about becoming aware of how quickly we move toward judgment—and how that impacts connection.

At the same time, turn that reflection inward:

• How do you show up in the relationship?
• Where might you be difficult, avoidant, or reactive?
• What strengths do you bring—and where are your growth edges?

Healthy relationships are not built on perfection.
They are built on mutual awareness, responsibility, and compassion.

Look for the Origin of Your Reactions

When your partner withdraws, becomes distant, or behaves in ways that activate you, pause and ask:

• Does this remind me of earlier relationships—parents, caregivers, or past partners?
• What did I need then that I may not have received?

Often, our strongest emotional reactions are not just about the present moment—
they are echoes of the past.

Practice separating the two:

“That was then. This is now. This situation may feel familiar, but it is not the same.”

From that awareness, a new question emerges:

• Knowing this is different, how do I want to respond differently?

Turning Criticism into Conscious Communication

Instead of reacting from frustration, practice responding from awareness.

Begin with this question:

How can I respond in a way that reflects the person I want to be in this relationship?

Then explore:

• What am I needing right now—emotionally or physically?
• What am I feeling beneath my frustration (hurt, fear, disconnection)?
• How can I express these feelings in a grounded, mature way?
• Is something else in my life contributing to this reaction?
• Have I clearly expressed this need before—or am I hoping they will intuitively understand it without me saying it?

Sometimes we expect our partner to anticipate our needs without clearly expressing them.

This can come from:
• Childhood needs not being fully met
• A longing to feel deeply understood
• The belief that “if they love me, they’ll just know”

But in healthy relationships:
Needs are expressed, not mind-read.

Continue:

• How can I regulate myself before I respond?
• What would it look like to communicate this with honesty instead of blame?
• Have I seen examples of healthy, direct communication—and how can I begin to practice that here?

Much of what we react to in relationships is not just about the present moment—
it is shaped by our nervous system and past experiences.

Final Reflection

Love matures when we stop trying to create the perfect partner…
and begin learning how to relate to an imperfect human being with honesty and care.

This isn’t about settling.
It’s about seeing clearly.

It’s about choosing a relationship where growth is possible—
not because the other person changes,
but because both people are willing to show up with awareness, accountability, and heart.

Call to Action

If you find yourself caught in cycles of frustration, criticism, or trying to change your partner, there is a deeper opportunity available.

At The Courageous Self, I work with individuals and couples to understand relational patterns, improve communication, and create more meaningful, connected partnerships.

You don’t have to keep repeating the same dynamics.
With the right tools and awareness, relationships can become a place of growth, safety, and genuine connection.

If you’re ready to explore what’s possible, I invite you to reach out.

“It’s Not a Big Deal”: What Happens When Our Feelings Are Dismissed

Posted on by helpingsoul

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”
— Carl Jung

Many people grow up learning that certain emotions are inconvenient.

When a child expresses disappointment, hurt, or anger and the response is dismissal, correction, or indifference, the child quickly adapts. In order to maintain connection with caregivers, they begin to minimize their own emotional experience.

They tell themselves:

It’s not a big deal.
I’m overreacting.
I shouldn’t feel this way.

Over time, this becomes automatic. Instead of acknowledging their feelings, they learn to push them aside.

This is the birth of emotional minimization.

Why Children Learn to Minimize

Children depend on their caregivers for safety and connection. When emotional expressions are dismissed or discouraged, the child learns that showing certain feelings disrupts harmony within the relationship.

To preserve attachment, the child adjusts.

Rather than expressing the feeling fully, they reduce its importance.

What appears on the surface as maturity or resilience is often adaptation.

The child learns to stay quiet, move on quickly, and tell themselves that what they felt did not really matter.

Where the Feelings Go

Emotions do not disappear simply because we minimize them.

They are pushed aside rather than processed.

Over time, these unprocessed emotions accumulate beneath the surface.

They do not disappear simply because they were minimized or ignored. Instead, they become part of our emotional history, stored within the body and nervous system.

When a present-day experience resembles an earlier one, that history can become activated. A similar interaction, tone of voice, or relational dynamic may trigger the nervous system and open what can feel like emotional floodgates.

In these moments, the intensity of the reaction is not only about what is happening now. It also reflects layers of earlier experiences that were never fully acknowledged or processed.

From the outside, the response may appear disproportionate to the situation. But internally, the body is responding to a much larger emotional history.

In many ways, this is the body’s natural attempt to resolve what was previously left unresolved.

Why Reactions Grow Stronger Over Time

Each time a feeling is minimized, another layer is added.

Over months and years, the emotional weight of these experiences accumulates. When something in the present moment resembles earlier situations, the reaction can feel surprisingly intense.

Others may say, “You’re being too emotional,” or wonder why the response seems out of proportion.

But the reaction is rarely about a single moment.

It is the combined weight of many moments that were never fully acknowledged or processed.

The body remembers what the mind attempted to dismiss.

Why Minimization Repeats Across Generations

Emotional minimization is rarely learned in isolation. More often, it is passed down across generations.

If a person was raised in an environment where emotions were dismissed or discouraged, they may never have learned how to acknowledge, process, or tolerate their own emotional experiences. As a result, emotions can feel overwhelming or uncomfortable.

When someone has not developed the capacity to sit with their own feelings, witnessing another person openly expressing emotion can feel threatening.

Instead of leaning into curiosity or empathy, the person instinctively tries to reduce the discomfort.

One way this happens is through psychological defense mechanisms.

Defense mechanisms are unconscious strategies the mind uses to protect itself from emotional distress. Psychologists have identified many of these protective responses—such as denial, projection, rationalization, and displacement.

Minimization is one of them.

When someone minimizes another person’s feelings, they are often attempting to reduce their own internal discomfort.

If the emotion is framed as “not a big deal,” then it no longer needs to be acknowledged, explored, or processed.

But when minimization becomes the primary way emotions are handled within a family, it quietly teaches the next generation the same lesson:

Feelings are inconvenient.
Strong emotions should be reduced.
Expressing them creates problems.

Over time, this pattern becomes normalized. Each generation learns to suppress feelings in order to maintain harmony, even though the emotional cost continues to accumulate beneath the surface.

The Cost of Suppressing Feelings

When emotions are repeatedly minimized, several consequences tend to develop over time.

Resentment can quietly build beneath the surface.

Emotional reactions may become more intense when they finally emerge.

People can lose confidence in their own internal signals, questioning whether their feelings are valid or reasonable.

Relationships can become strained by misunderstandings about emotional expression.

The individual may even begin to believe something is wrong with them for feeling so strongly.

What they may not realize is that those feelings have been waiting a long time to be acknowledged.

A Different Approach

Healing begins with a simple but powerful shift: learning to acknowledge our emotions rather than minimizing them.

A helpful phrase often used in psychology is “name it to tame it.” When we pause long enough to identify what we are feeling, the intensity of the emotion often begins to settle. Naming the feeling engages the thinking parts of the brain, allowing us to observe the experience rather than being overwhelmed by it.

In many ways, this process is similar to a concept found in physics—the idea that observation itself can influence what is being observed. When we bring awareness to our internal experience, something begins to change.

The emotion is no longer pushed away or ignored. It is recognized.

Each feeling carries valuable information. Emotions help us understand what matters to us, what hurts us, and what we long for. They reveal our preferences, boundaries, and desires.

When we learn to acknowledge our emotions with curiosity rather than judgment, we begin to develop a different kind of relationship with ourselves.

We communicate an important message internally:

My experience matters.

This is where self-trust begins.

Instead of dismissing what we feel, we learn to acknowledge it, nurture the hurt within, and remind ourselves that we are capable of caring for our own emotional world.

Over time, this practice becomes the foundation for a healthier relationship with ourselves—one built on awareness, compassion, and trust.

And as our relationship with ourselves improves, our relationships with others often improve as well.

When we understand and regulate our own emotions, we are better able to communicate clearly, respond thoughtfully, and create relationships where feelings can be expressed rather than suppressed.

When emotions are acknowledged as they arise, they move through us rather than accumulating within us.

A Gentle Invitation

Many high-functioning adults learned early in life that minimizing their feelings helped maintain harmony in their families. Over time, this pattern can lead to confusion about one’s emotional responses and difficulty trusting one’s own internal experience.

Learning to recognize and process emotions in a healthy way is a skill that can be developed.

At Courageous Hearts, I work with adults who want to better understand their emotional world, develop greater self-awareness, and build relationships where feelings can be expressed and respected rather than dismissed.

Healing often begins with something simple yet powerful:

Taking your own emotional experience seriously.

If you are ready to explore these patterns and develop healthier ways of relating—to yourself and to others—I invite you to reach out.

The Four Taboos of Communication, Rule Two: Stop Demanding. Start Requesting. The Difference Changes Everything.

Posted on by helpingsoul

This essay is a revisit of an older post on the four taboos of communication. The original list was useful. This version develops the second rule — no demanding — with what years of clinical work have taught me about why demands fail and what works instead.

Years ago, I wrote a series on this blog about what I came to call the four taboos of communication — four patterns of speech that consistently produce bad outcomes in close relationships. Rule one was no name-calling. Rule two was no demanding. Rule three was no past-baiting. Rule four was no threatening. The series did well at the time and continues to be one of the most-read parts of this blog.

This essay is a revisit of rule two, no demanding, because that one in particular has continued to develop in my clinical work over the years. The original framing was correct — demands undermine connection — but the full picture of why this is true, and what to do instead, has become clearer to me with more clinical experience. This piece is that expanded picture.

What a demand actually is

Most of us did not learn the difference between a demand and a request growing up, because most of us grew up in households where the language was used interchangeably. A demand and a request can sound similar on the surface. Both involve one person asking another for something. The difference is what is implied if the other person says no.

A request says: I am asking you for this. If you say no, that is information about what you can offer, and we will figure out what to do from there.

A demand says: I am asking you for this, and there will be consequences if you do not give it to me. The consequences may not be named, but they are present in the tone, the body language, the felt sense of being pressured. The other person is not free to say no without paying a price.

This is the part most people miss. Demands are not always loud. They are not always angry. They can be delivered in the most reasonable voice. What makes them demands is not the volume but the implied threat of relational consequence if the other person does not comply.

Why demands fail

In close relationships, demands consistently produce the opposite of what the demanding person wants. This is not a personality issue or a communication preference. It is the way nervous systems respond to felt pressure.

When the other person experiences your demand — whether or not you intended it as one — their nervous system goes into some form of protective response. Fight. Flight. Freeze. Fawn. None of these states is conducive to genuine cooperation. Even if the other person complies with the demand, the compliance is shaped by protection rather than by genuine willingness. They give you what you asked for and they feel less safe with you afterward.

This is why so many couples find themselves in a pattern where one person feels they have to demand things to get them done, and the other person feels increasingly resistant to doing the things even when they would have been willing to do them without the demand. The demand itself produces the resistance. Removing the demand often produces the cooperation that the demand was trying to force.

The deeper damage is to the relationship itself. Demands accumulate. Each one teaches the other person that being in relationship with you involves periodic pressure to comply, that their no will be received as a problem rather than as information. Over time, this changes what kind of relationship is possible. The person on the receiving end of demands becomes either reactive (a demander themselves) or quietly absent (going through the motions while their inner life withdraws to where it cannot be reached). Neither is what the demanding person was hoping for.

Why we demand

Understanding why we demand is essential to changing the pattern. People do not demand because they are bad communicators. They demand because the demand is doing something for them — usually managing an underlying anxiety or unmet need that feels too vulnerable to name directly.

The husband who demands that the dishes be done a certain way is often, underneath the demand, expressing an anxiety about household order that he learned in a childhood where chaos felt unsafe. The wife who demands that her partner respond to her texts within a specific time frame is often, underneath the demand, expressing an attachment anxiety about being forgotten or unimportant. The parent who demands that the adult child call more often is often, underneath the demand, expressing a fear of being left behind as the child builds their own life.

None of these underlying needs is wrong. All of them deserve attention. But they cannot be met through demands, because demands hide what is actually going on. The husband saying you never do the dishes right is not actually communicating his anxiety about order. He is delivering a command that the other person experiences as pressure. The conversation about what is actually underneath never happens, and the pattern repeats.

What to do instead

The alternative to demanding is requesting — and requesting well is more skillful than it sounds. Several elements distinguish a real request from a softened demand.

First, name what you want clearly and concisely. Vague requests invite vague responses. Be specific about what you are asking for.

Second, name why it matters to you. Not as justification or as pressure, but as honest information. The vulnerability of saying I am asking for this because it matters to me invites the other person into your inner world rather than positioning them as someone to be managed.

Third, make space for the other person’s no. This is the heart of it. A real request includes genuine willingness to hear no. If you cannot tolerate the no, you are making a demand, not a request, no matter how polite the words sound.

Fourth, regulate yourself before you ask. Many requests come out as demands because the asker is activated when they ask. The same words delivered from a regulated state and from an activated state land completely differently. Take three slow breaths before you start. Notice your own tension. The body of the asker shapes what the asker is actually asking for, regardless of what the words appear to say.

Fifth, follow up with curiosity rather than judgment. If the other person says no, ask why. Not as challenge but as genuine interest in their experience. Their no contains information about them, about the situation, about what might be possible. Receiving the no with curiosity often opens a different conversation than the original request anticipated, and that conversation is frequently where real solutions emerge.

A concrete example

Imagine you have been doing more of the household labor than feels fair. You want your partner to take on more. There is a demand version of this conversation and a request version.

Demand version. *You never help around the house. I do everything. You need to start doing more.*

This is delivered in a tone of frustration. It positions the other person as a failure. It includes the implied threat that if they do not start doing more, the frustration will continue or escalate. The other person hears the demand, their nervous system activates, and they either defend themselves, withdraw, or comply resentfully. None of these outcomes produces a real shift.

Request version. *I have been feeling overwhelmed by how much household labor I am doing. I would like us to look together at what each of us is currently doing and see if there is a way to redistribute it that feels more sustainable for me. Are you willing to have that conversation?*

This is delivered in a regulated tone. It names what is happening for you without blame. It invites the other person into collaboration rather than positioning them as someone to be corrected. It explicitly asks whether they are willing to engage, which honors their autonomy. The other person can say yes, and a real conversation begins. They can say not right now, which gives you information about their state. They can say no, which gives you information about something deeper in the relationship that needs attention.

Every one of these outcomes is more useful than the resentful compliance the demand version would have produced.

The deeper invitation

Learning to make real requests instead of demands is one of the most consequential skills in any close relationship. It is also, for many of us, genuinely hard, because the patterns we learned in childhood often included demands disguised as expectations, and we may not have grown up seeing what a real request looks like.

The work is gradual. Notice when you are about to demand. Pause. Ask yourself what is actually underneath. Make the request from the underneath rather than from the surface. Be willing to hear no.

Over time, your closest relationships will change. The people in your life will trust you more, because they will learn that their no is genuinely received rather than punished. They will offer more freely, because they are not constantly defending against pressure. The cooperation you wanted will arrive — not because you forced it, but because you stopped making it the thing that had to be forced.

This is rule two. Stop demanding. Start requesting. The difference, in close relationships, is not subtle. It is everything.

For the clinical perspective on why demands trigger nervous system responses and what real requests do differently, see the companion piece at thecourageousself.com.

April Wright, MA, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in California and Florida. She blogs about attachment, healing, and the courageous arts of becoming oneself at courageous-arts.com and sees clients at thecourageousself.com.

 

Step Ten of Alcoholics Anonymous — A Life Journey

Posted on by helpingsoul

Responsibility: No single drop of water thinks it is responsible for the floodStep 10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Steps one through nine provide tools to awaken internal realizations and relational manifestations.  They offer help to accept the past and heal what is possible.  The first nine measures give guidance for honesty, faith, hope, courage, and humility for responsible lives.

Step ten is based on the principle of responsibility.  Being responsible is using our authority to make independent decisions for our actions and for our failures to take action.  We are accountable for our actions and their consequences.

The tenth step uses the basis of responsibility and applies it to daily life as an ever evolving journey.  Throughout the stages of life, we are in a in a constant state of transition, emerging, evolving, and becoming.  We are continually discovering and making sense of our existence.  As we repeatedly question ourselves, others and the world, it is important to continue looking within and practice being accountable for our behaviors especially when we are wrong.  Paying attention to our varying degrees of thoughts, emotions, and behaviors helps improve conscientious decisions-making.  Keeping abreast to our internal being and being true to ourselves and others maintains balance and happiness as we progress in our lifespan.

To help encourage awareness make time each day to practice stillness.  Stillness is slowing down from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.  Set up a quiet sanctuary for your practice.  Maintain a personal ritual in a quiet place where you can focus internally.  It’s a time to just notice and listen in the moment.  This is not a time for judgment or ridicule.  Just allow thoughts to surface and pay attention to where the feeling is sensed in the body.

The concept is simple, yet can feel difficult to perform.  To assist, you might create a place dedicated solely for the purpose of reflection.  Form a tranquil space with pillows, blankets, and memorabilia that are personally special.  Wear comfortable clothing.

Nature is another sanctuary.  Ensure there are no external distractions such as electronic devices or interruptions.  Take the time to focus internally and scan your body and listen to your inner being.

Begin by taking several slow, deep breaths.  Start your practice remaining silent for five minutes and as your meditation muscles strengthen, add more time.  Increase in one to five minute intervals each week until you reach thirty or forty-five minutes, or as much as feels right for you.

In the beginning taking time for mindfulness may seem like a waste of time. Allow for the process to transpire and you will reap many benefits. You will have more clarity and decisiveness.  With less wandering of the mind, you are able to make quick, precise decisions.   You are more centered, well-balanced and connected with your core and inner being.  Having greater connection to your body and mind provides more awareness.  Being aware supplies consciousness to peace and confidence in your authenticity.

Stillness is your sacred time to connect to your spiritual power and to reflect inward.  It is a valuable time solely for you.  With practice, you will adopt, habituate and notice positive changes in all areas of your life.

Now that you are more aware of your thoughts, emotions, and actions, challenge yourself to experience fearful situations and remain there knowing you can manage your emotions and take responsibility for your behavior.  Each person has unique thoughts, emotions, and urges.  They are a natural part of life.   Distinctive thoughts and feelings are not right or wrong.  Labeling them good or bad/right or wrong is passing judgment.  Acceptance is a state of non judgment.  Reassure yourself, that your thoughts and feelings matter and are of value.  They equate just as much as everyone else’s.

The more in tune you are with your thoughts and feelings, the more you can create a safe place for you to express them in a healthy way.  This means stating your wants and desires.  If you are not getting want you want, it is your responsibility to express your needs.  People are not mind-readers.  The only way to have a healthy discussion is to communicate openly and honestly.  Allow the other person to speak, express their thoughts, desires, and feelings; and then do the same.  Use respectful dialogue.  Establish ground rules such as no name calling, blaming, yelling, or stonewalling. If the conversation elevates to such a level, take a time out with a specific day/ time to reconvene and continue the discussion.  Ensure you return at the established day/ time.  This builds trust.  With practice, responsible responses will habituate and become easier over time.

Having an awakening to your internal psyche creates more options and alternatives. Exposure to communication brings deeper connection and better relationships.  We are our choices.  Thus instead of using alcohol, drugs, sex, shopping, gambling, and relationships to restrain what you think and feel, you have the capacity to notice, acknowledge and choose how you manage your internal workings.   Your relationships will show the improvement.

Step 10 encourages you to notice and allow whatever thoughts and emotions you are thinking or feeling to surface.  By observing your interior consciousness you are awakening to a richer life of happiness, joy, and serenity as well as managing your own life for safety and protection.  Having thoughts and emotions are normal and healthy.   Allowing them to surface doesn’t mean you have to act on them.  It’s being in charge, building a relationship with your fears and distress, and strengthening your confidence to know you can handle difficult experiences.

Responsibility Sure Glad the hole isn't at our end.

5 Ways to Improve Your Conscious Listening

Posted on by helpingsoul

active-listening_pinkTaken from Julian Treasure: 5 ways to listen better | Video on TED.com

Conscious listening is understanding sound.   It increases empathy, connection, consciousness, and peace.  Listening externally improves relationships.  Listening internally increases awareness of inner wisdom and self-sabotaging talk.  Read on to learn ways to uplift your capacity to hear with clarity.

1. Sit silently for three minutes a day to recalibrate and hear the silence again.

2. Listen and count the many channels of sound (i.e. count birds chirping or the different depths of sound listening to the flow of a creek, or the clasps of the coffee machine being worked at Starbucks as you stand in line).

3. Savor mundane sounds.  Turn the sound of a washing machine into a waltz.

4. Listening positions allow room to navigate, see different perspectives, and find solutions.

  • Active | passive
  • Reductive | expansive
  • Critical |empathetic

5. R A S A is an acronym to simplify the rules to listen better.

  • R = Receive, pay attention
  • A = Appreciation, thank for sharing
  • S = Summarize, use so… frequently
  • A – Ask, pose many questions

Listening is a rare art form that takes practice, dedication, and consciousness.  Notice how slowing down to listen to others and yourself can help transform your relationships, decision-making, and peacefulness.

Now is the Time to Do

Posted on by helpingsoul

By Richard Branson
When posting recently about the importance of making lists and resolutions, there was an overwhelming response from people keen to reach their goals in 2013. It’s great to see such enthusiasm – and practical planning – for making positive changes from people all over the world.

Planning is extremely important, for any adventure in or out of business. But even more crucial is the will to simply get out there and do something new. A couple of thoughts have caught my attention this week about creating original ideas.

Dr Muhammad Yunus, founder of the wonderful Grameen Bank in Bangladesh, said: “All human beings are born as entrepreneurs. But unfortunately, many of us never had the opportunity to unwrap that part of our life, so it remains hidden.”

He touches upon the potential within us all to bring new ideas to life. For those of us fortunate enough to have the chance to see their dreams come to life, it is foolish to waste our opportunities.

Another perceptive point comes from Seth Godin. On his blog, he wrote about the challenges of initiating any project. “Not enough people believe they are capable of productive initiative.

“I don’t think the shortage of artists has much to do with the innate ability to create or initiate. I think it has to do with believing that it’s possible and acceptable for you to do it.”

As Mr Godin suggests, it is absolutely possible for you to create, to take chances, to allow your ideas to flourish if you have enough self-confidence. While he is referring to artists, the same applies for the art of business.

Now is the time to do doesn’t just apply to starting businesses. it applies to relationships, to fitness, to all aspects of your life.

Nobody else is going to start your business for you. 2013 is the time to put your ideas into action. Now is the time to do.