Say the Hard Thing
Honesty without care can cause harm. Care without honesty can leave us alone.
A few days ago, I was hanging out with some old high school friends.
I was laughing about growing up in the ’80s. No cell phones. No social media. No permanent record of every ridiculous thing I said or did.
Thank goodness.
I also grew up before political correctness became part of everyday conversation.
I said what was on my mind.
Sometimes that honesty was refreshing.
And sometimes I was careless.
Both can be true.
I absolutely believe in honoring people’s feelings. Words matter. How I say something matters. The person sitting across from me matters.
And, I also wonder if, at times, I have become so focused on never offending anyone that I stop saying what is true.
I stay quiet.
I soften the truth until it disappears.
I carry the hard thing alone because I’m afraid it might be too heavy for someone else.
I see this happen around grief and the other painful changes life brings.
Someone asks, “How are you?”
And I say, “I’m fine.”
Not because I’m fine.
Because I don’t want to make the room uncomfortable. I don’t want to affect the people around me. I don’t want to be too much.
Things happen in your body when you keep swallowing what needs to be said.
Maybe your chest tightens. Maybe your throat closes. Maybe the words keep circling in your head long after the conversation ends.
Protecting everyone else from my truth does not always serve me.
The answer is not to say whatever I want without caring how it lands. And the answer is not to silence myself so nobody ever feels uncomfortable.
There is a balance.
I can speak honestly without using my truth as a weapon.
I can care about your feelings without becoming responsible for protecting you from every uncomfortable emotion.
I can create relationships where the hard things are allowed in the room.
I need people who can hear the part that isn’t polished. The anger. The fear. The grief. The thought I’m afraid to say out loud.
People who don’t rush to fix me or change the subject.
People who can simply say, “Tell me more.”
What are you holding back because you’re afraid of how it might affect someone else?
And, who in your life has the capacity to hear it?
Go with Power,
Jason
Somatic Grief Therapist
Try this Simple Practice:
Three Steps to Say the Hard Thing
1. Notice Before You Speak
Take one breath. Feel your feet. Where do you feel the unsaid words in your body?
2. Say the True Thing With Care
Start with, “What I need to say is…” or “What’s true for me right now is…” Speak from your experience, not as an attack.
3. Choose Someone Who Can Stay
Not everyone has earned access to your most vulnerable truth. Who can listen without making you smaller, rushing you, or turning away?
Healing doesn’t always happen sitting still. Sometimes it begins with taking the next step. Join us for Walking with Grief™ this October in the Adirondacks.