The Dance of Connection: How to Talk to Someone When You're Mad, Hurt, Scared, Frustrated, Insulted, Betrayed, or Desperate

by Harriet Lerner

Having an authentic voice means that: We can openly share competence as well as problems and vulnerability. We can warm things up and calm them down. We can listen and ask questions that allow us to truly know the other person and to gather information about anything that may affect us. We can say what we think and feel, state differences, and allow the other person to do the same. We can define our values, convictions, principles, and priorities, and do our best to act in accordance with them. We can define what we feel entitled to in a relationship, and we can clarify the limits of what we will tolerate or accept in another’s behavior. We can leave (meaning that we can financially and emotionally support ourselves), if necessary.

We help others as much by sharing our only-too-human side as we do by sharing our skills and competence.

Rushing in to offer advice—or to cheer someone up—may reflect our own inability to remain emotionally present in the face of another person’s problems and pain, or to experience our own.

As the naturalist John Muir put it, “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.”

Intensity and intimacy are not the same thing, although many people confuse the two.

And yet few of us really evaluate a prospective partner with the same objectivity and clarity that we might use to select a major purchase. We wouldn’t buy a used car off the lot just because it looked great and felt really comfortable to drive. We’d check out its history and ask for the facts, with our radar out to detect dishonesty or hype. We might consult with a clear-thinking, car-savvy neighbor. And we’d enter the negotiation with a few criteria of our own that were deal-breakers—maybe air conditioning, good mileage, or safety features such as antilock brakes.

The longer you’re with someone, the more vulnerable you are to selective attention. You automatically register and give voice to what bothers you, and you automatically fail to give praise and to voice your appreciation. Many folks welcome constructive criticism during the courtship phase of a relationship, but tolerate it less well over time. Most importantly, nobody values criticism if there’s not a surrounding climate of love and respect.

When I work with couples who tell me they never fight, I ask them, “Why not? What’s wrong?”

We cannot survive when our identity is defined by or limited to our worst behavior. Every human must be able to view the self as complex and multidimensional. When this fact is obscured, people will wrap themselves in layers of denial in order to survive. How can we apologize for something we are, rather than something we did?

When family relationships are intense, it’s far more useful to use humor, lightness, and imagination to deflect complaining and negativity. The tone of our voice is every bit as important as the content of our words. The challenge is to pass along less anxiety than we receive.

Struggling with this