Jonathan and I have our fair share of blowups. Without getting too personal and airing our dirty laundry, we had one this morning. What it was about is unimportant. What it boiled down to was this: communication. I had communicated my feelings about something, but I had not done it as well as I thought. Jonathan thought I was overreacting. Over a year later from when I expressed myself, and 7 months since the last time, and I am angry, hurt and resentful. Jonathan feels terrible because he finally got it, but only because I am in tears.
I pride myself on my communication skills and my ability to read emotions. Being in the theatre, you could say it is my JOB. But that doesn’t mean I always succeed. As a friend said, to whom I was confiding, “see, we’re pretty simple. we’re like dumb grunts and women are like highly trained assassins. so we don’t pick up on subtle cues and tells that are blatantly obvious to other women/ black ops operators” or something like that. Point is, I know men don’t get subtlety. I hate it that womens mags are always saying to be coy or hint. MEN DON’T GET HINTS. For that matter, a lot of women don’t either. I don’t get this form of subtle, subversive communication.
The long shot is that I am very lucky. I am lucky that we DO communicate so that when we get to this point, we know what has been said. I didn’t hint. I may not have pushed or been as clear as I thought, but I didn’t hint and we are in a much better place for it.
Communication is a skill. It takes LISTENING and then CLARIFYING and then THINKING and THEN speaking. Communication isn’t about talking. In fact, that comes last.