I Thought I Was a Great Communicator. I Was Wrong.
For a long time, I believed I was excellent at communicating.
Before recovery, I was a program coordinator at Yale University, managing complex initiatives across as many as 25 schools at a time. I kept information flowing between administrators, educators, partners, and stakeholders. Things ran smoothly. People knew what they needed to know. Deadlines were met.
So I assumed that meant I was a great communicator.
What I didn’t realize was that I was only good at communicating about work.
Interpersonally, especially in close relationships, I was a mess.
I communicated indirectly. I talked to people who weren’t actually involved in the situation. I hinted. I circled. I beat around the bush. I expected people to know things simply because I had decided they should know them.
And when I didn’t understand what someone meant, instead of asking a clarifying question, I filled in the gaps myself. Usually with a story where they had bad intentions and I was about to be hurt, dismissed, or taken advantage of.
That way of communicating quietly wrecked my relationships. Romantic ones especially.
Recovery changed that. Not because I suddenly became “better” at communication, but because I was forced to practice it differently.
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