Opting Out of the Pain Olympics
Holding space for people to share their struggles without shifting the focus to our own
I remember a time when I had a person in my life who would always challenge any discomfort or struggle I was experiencing, and try to one-up me. If I said I had a headache, they would say, “Oh, I have a migraine, and I’ve had my migraine for four days now.” Or, if they didn’t have a headache, they’d be telling me about someone they knew who had such a severe headache that they had to be hospitalized. This person was always diverting me from sharing about my pain, insisting that they had or knew of a pain that was greater.
We have to be careful when people are sharing things in conversations with us, that we are connecting rather than disconnecting. When someone is going through something, there are ways we can share our own experience that can be helpful, but oftentimes, it’s not about sharing our story, so much as signaling that we understand how the person is feeling. We can do that by saying:
“I understand.”
“I remember those times.”
“I remember what that feels like.”
“That sounds so familiar.”
These responses give the person we’re speaking with the option of asking to hear more, while also keeping their experience centered in the conversation. We may feel like our experience would be valuable to them, but it might take away from the person being able to share what they want to share.
There are people in our lives that we may not confide in until a situation is resolved, or until we have made our peace with it. We do this because those people have shown they can not hold space for us and will hijack our crisis. I have called people crying and had to remind myself that I called them for support because somehow I ended up consoling them.
When we do this to people we are sending the message that we don’t have the capacity to hold space for them. We’re unraveling the closeness they may have felt was there. We are diminishing the connection that they’re looking for at that moment.
When you are in conversation with someone who is having a hard time ask yourself:
Is this person being quiet, or am I talking too much?
Am I monopolizing the conversation?
Am I doing more listening than speaking?
Am I asking thoughtful, open-ended questions?
Am I sharing in a purposeful way?
We all hijack conversations sometimes. It’s a part of being human, but it’s important that we pay attention to how often it is happening.
Journal Prompt
How do you provide assistance when individuals reach out to you during a crisis?
A Few Things That Caught My Attention This Week
When Western Medicine Failed Me, My Mom Stepped In, by Mandie Montes on Oprah Daily.
Stop Ignoring All the Mundane Miracles in Your Life, by Anna Kodé in The New York Times Magazine.
Kokomo City. You can watch this movie on Paramount +.
I could give a course on how to hold space for someone who is grieving, but I'm usually the one doing the listening. Most of the time people just need their grief witnessed. Sounds easy enough, but Western cultures are not particularly comfortable with grief. We want it to go away as soon as possible so rather than listening and witnessing, we talk about ways to "fix" what we see as a problem. If you feel you absolutely must say something, try, "That f'ing sucks. I am so sorry that happened to you."
Oie. How exhausting. One-uppers are like energy thieves. Grabbing our experience right from within us.