Please Talk To Me
How we experience our internal worlds varies considerably, and one aspect of this is the degree to which we notice an inner monologue. By inner monologue, I am referring to the awareness of an inner observer that is commenting on a wide array of aspects of our lived experience. I do not mean that we cannot be having a dialogue with ourselves that comprises multiple parts, but simply that these are reflections that are happening internally versus explicitly with another person. The degree to which we reflect on our experiences internally through language is different in every person. I say through language, because we can also reflect on an experience in other ways, for instance somatically (you might feel anxious after a conversation or opening an email but not really know at the level of language what it is about). This comes into play in relationships because often, the partner who has a busier inner monologue tends to be the one who is making overtures to engage in conversations and in particular, meta-conversations (reflecting on relationship dynamics, feelings, events etc.).
When I was training as a couples therapist in the early years, I heard an analogy that has stuck with me and bore itself out in my clinical practice. Some people, when you inquire about an experience, tend to behave like a water faucet with a lot of pressure and as soon as you turn it on, the water comes flowing out at great speed. Others are like a faucet struggling to form even a drop. There are various lenses and categories through which this has been examined and discussed, whether its extroversion/introversion, anxious/avoidant, hyper/hypoarousal, but for our purposes here, I am less interested in these binaries, as typically this is more of a spectrum than a set of opposites, and more interestingly, it presents unique challenges in interpersonal situations.
Knock Knock
What often occurs is that the partner who is more verbal, reaches for connection through a desire to talk, reflect, and engage verbally. In the jargon, we refer to these attempts as ‘bids for attachment’. It is deliberately framed as an objective act, referring directly to the instinct to get close. The reasons for this are compelling because often for the partner who has less of an inner monologue and/or does not experience their everyday life in such a manner, these attempts at putting experience into language are overwhelming, and this is where many relationships break down. What I mean by break down, is that this often innocent dance, of moving towards and moving away, gets imbued with a lot of meaning which is not entirely related to the intentions themselves.
The partner who has the instinct to want to ‘talk’ experiences a withdrawal from the other side and often attributes to them a lack of willingness to engage. Left unchecked, it builds over time and we have a tendency to fill silences with our own projections, fears and ideas akin to a Rorschach test. The partner who struggles to keep up linguistically and/or experiences the act of being prompted to reflect on their inner experience as overwhelming, begins to feel under attack and misunderstood. It is probably the most common aspect of discord in relationships that I have seen clinically and was taught to me as the most prevalent dance that couples experience, with variations of course in pattern and intensity.
You’re Running In? I’m Running Away!
It’s important to clarify that on some level, there is no ‘right’ way. For instance, if there was a burning building, it might be the right decision to head towards it with a water hose and attempt to put out the fire. Conversely, it may also be the right decision if the environment is too dangerous to run for cover before getting burned or dying in a massive explosion; at the heart of both movements, is a desire to deal with the threat in some life saving form. In couples therapy, rather than judging people’s dispositions, we are more interested in listening to what is motivating them. Learning that a partner who struggles to put language to their inner experience and tends to shut conversations down, not because they want to frustrate or show a lack of care, but rather, to lower the heat in a relationship, is useful because it reveals an act of safeguarding. Conversely, the partner who may constantly be knocking on their partner’s door to talk and who is increasingly seen as perpetually critical and unhappy, is reframed as really wanting to protect the relationship through processing and getting closer to being on the same page.
There are significant cultural differences in terms of how language is used, some cultures tend to be significantly more extroverted than others. It is less about what is right and wrong, and more about a couple finding a good enough rhythm and linguistic space for them. This is not a static phenomenon, it is dynamic in the sense that the toing and froing over time is essential for the building of trust and intimacy. Nothing is scarier in relationships than when what seemed like a beautiful equilibrium in the beginning gives way to the messiness of coming up against difference which is inevitable. This is the moment when couples get scared, and often our worst fears come to the fore.
We Are As Different As Snowflakes
While there isn’t space in this essay to examine how relationships then become fertile ground for the working through of deep fears and longings, rather than seeing them as liabilities, suffice it to say that this initial breakdown is purposive and unavoidable. We are, undoubtedly, different from each other no matter what similarities and feelings of oneness we might experience either in the euphoria of falling in love or in other moments of intense unity. Confronting and learning about these differences through the creation of good enough reparative conversations is an essential ingredient in supportive, loving relationships. While it isn’t always pretty, wrestling with our degrees of comfort at the level of linguistic reflection matters. To an extent, it’s about each partner being willing to accept where the other feels safest, and there is also a case to be made for having a certain capacity to put our internal worlds into clearer and more legible actions. In a future post I’ll do a deeper dive into how concepts such as interoception, the perception of our internal worlds, relates to child development and the learning process.
I’m curious what you may have to add to these dynamics from your experience and if the dance I describe resonates? If so, feel free to send me a note.