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Speak Up So You Don’t Lose Yourself

So many of my clients seek guidance in how and when to speak up. Not necessarily with bluntness, and that’s certainly not who I am or what most people need. What they need is validation, and then a nudge toward what they actually want to say. 

Because when I look at what actually brings people to me, it isn't really about the eating disorder, or the anxiety, or how someone feels about themselves. Bottom line? It's about people. It's about relationships—with a spouse, a doctor, extended family, a friend. And more and more, I think that's because we've lived through a pandemic together, we're watching a shifting political climate, and we're in the middle of a loneliness epidemic

We're all trying to figure out how to stay connected to other people without losing parts of ourselves in the process.

There are times it makes sense to let something go. Before I speak up about anything, I ask myself a few questions:

  • Can I actually change this?

  • Do I have real control here?

  • If I speak up, could it hurt someone—me, them, or someone else caught in the middle—more than it helps?

I think about my father when he was close to ninety, and something from my childhood that bothered me for years. I could have spoken up. But he wasn't going to change, and what I was really looking for was an acknowledgment I knew wouldn't come. So I decided not to say it. Instead, I worked through it on my own. He's gone now, and while I could and will write him a letter he'll never read, I realize the work was mine to do, not his to receive.

That's the real question behind speaking up: What's the motive? Is it resolution, or is it that if I don't express myself, I'm going to lose a part of myself?

One test I come back to is that if you find yourself constantly correcting or nagging someone, ask yourself what that's really about. What if you didn't criticize? What if, instead of correcting the behavior, you spoke up about how it actually impacts you?

I help people with the how of that every day—giving someone two clear choices instead of none, or instead of ten that overwhelm them. It's a skill, and like any skill, it takes practice. That's part of why couples counseling works so well. It's not that people haven't heard the tools before. It's that having a neutral person, especially a professional, in the room to practice with makes all the difference.

And we're going to mess up. Trial and error means error. I've always liked how twelve-step programs handle that: not with five apologies, but with an amends. Changing the behavior from this moment forward. Doing something differently. I like the challenge of finding a way through without leaning on the words “I'm sorry” at all.

Sometimes the amends aren't received, no matter how sincerely they're offered. That's where I lean on tools of acceptance—ways to maintain my own respect for myself even when the outcome isn't what I hoped for.

Knowing those tools exist has let me take more risks. I say things now that I didn't used to, because I trust myself to clean it up if it goes sideways.

You don't need someone else's voice to speak up for yourself. You just need guidance, encouragement, a little practice, and the tools to handle it when it doesn't go perfectly. That's the work, and it's worth it.


Photo credit: © fizkes – depositphotos.com