Communicating Out Loud
The vulnerability of labeling and sharing needs
This morning I asked my husband, “Do you know what time sunrise is?”
He paused and replied with a steadiness in his voice, “No. But is that a request to look up what time the sunrise is?”
I smiled. A tad bit of shame lingered in my throat. To be honest, I knew he didn’t know what time sunrise was. So why did I ask him like this?
My internal self-talk chirped up with a slice of judgment: “Ughhh, be a clear communicator, Wade! You are working on this.”
“Let me try that again,” I stated out loud to my husband. “Can you please look up what time sunrise is. I don’t have my phone with me.” I slowed down my words and tried to articulate myself with clarity and kindness.
Yet, I noticed I felt bashful.
During these simple interactions with my partner, I notice how lazy of a communicator I can be—assuming he can read my mind and fill in the gaps. However, it is not fair to let him do the heavy lifting and filling in my requests. Instead, I need to practice owning my words.
Clear communication is challenging. Asking for what we need and want is challenging. It’s vulnerable. Especially if you don’t even know what your needs and wants are! Especially if clear communication wasn’t modeled for you as a child. You might have deeper beliefs around not feeling safe to communicate because of past traumas, attachment styles or even navigating harmful power systems like gender, race, ableism or ageism.
My mindfulness and Non Violent Communication teacher,
discusses in his book, Say What You Mean: A Mindful Approach to Nonviolent Communication and in his online communication courses: “When we are aware of our needs, we can use better strategies to meet our needs.” All humans have a similar set of needs they are looking to have met. Yet, understanding these needs is foundational to being able to communicate. The main function of communication is to get our needs met.Think back to the last baby you held. For me, it was my niece at five months old. She had no way of verbally communicating her exact needs of safety, love, nourishment or rest except for crying or wiggling her little body around. Learning to notice and verbally name our needs as we become older is a skill most of us don’t learn. I know I didn’t.
I reflect on my childhood trying to explore root moments where beliefs of not feeling safe to communicate my needs began. It’s challenging. I genuine felt so much love and care, not only from my parents but from babysitters, teachers and my mom’s friends.
Yet, when I dig deeper, memories rise to the surface. Moments where I felt small or scared to approach my dad to ask for what I needed because I knew he’d make some loud noise that would scare me. Or when I was just diagnosed with cancer and felt “I had to suck it up” because my mom was at capacity and had no more space for me. These memories stand out as deep ouches that need my tender care.
From the ages of two to six, I remember a pattern where my emotions felt intense. Too intense for my little body. I would tighten my fists, squish my face and shake with anger when I couldn’t express what I wanted. I was usually met with some sort of response of laughter because I looked cute and family members had empathy for my little body that was trying to express itself. Or I was met with “calm down.” Either way, big feelings unfolded in my system and I didn’t have any skills of how to manage. My nervous system followed it’s natural animal instincts to shake and dispel the access energy so my body could come back to homeostasis.
At the age of 14, I fell in love with Pilates. This type of graceful mindful movement was a gateway to communicating with my body and understanding my needs in a whole new manner. Traditionally, I thought of my body as pieces. For instance, “I am going to workout my legs or my biceps.” My body felt fragmented. However, Pilates taught me that when you move from your core, you are connecting to the body’s whole musculoskeletal network. I started to move and feel my body as an entire system working together—visualizing what was occurring beneath the skin. Deeply listening to areas that wanted to be lengthened. Pockets of tightness that yearned for space. Noticing how the muscles and fascia in my feet connect all the way into the muscles and fascia in my neck and jaw. I learned how to breathe. Breath became a flashlight of awareness—helping me feel my wholeness from the inside out.
This connection to my body deepened when I was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma cancer at the age of 21. As my body underwent chemotherapy, it became extremely sensitive. My meditation practice enhanced my interoceptive skills. I could now sense not only my muscles, but my blood stream and emotional body. I gained a felt sense of how words, food, people and places all had a vibrational impact on my cells.
Battling cancer brought me closer to my body. We became best friends. I would tend to her constantly. Checking in with her throughout the day: “What do you need right now? How do you want to move? What are you hungry for?” I learned and listened to her own cues so that I could meet her requests. I felt the responsibility to care and defend her.
Now married and in a long-term partnership, I had to figure out how to let someone else into my needs and wants. How to verbally communicate them out loud since he can’t read my own body’s needs. My partner wants to be let in. He wants access. Yet, to open that door and let someone else have access to this treasure chest I have served, protected and guarded feels vulnerable. Yet, it’s what my heart wants.
Slowing peeling back the layers of communication, I am practicing what I am learning. Connecting dots of my past to my present. Grounding my feet in the here and now so that I can communicate from this moment, not my past wounds. Slowing down to listen to the needs of my physical, emotional and soulful body. Choosing words in my mind that clearly articulate my needs so that they can be shared out loud. I am working on letting my partner in and opening my heart. Trusting that someone else can help me meet my needs. I don’t have to do it all by myself.
Prompts to notice what’s present for you when it comes to communication. Feel free to share your noticings in the comments.
If you tune into your heart and mind in this moment, what needs do you notice are present? (Explore a list of Non Violent Communication Needs here.)
What does it feel like to listen and understand your own body’s needs?
How does it feel to express your needs out loud?
What feels easeful? What feels challenging?