Get Out of Your Own Way

by Mark Goulston

  “I shall tell you a great secret, my friend. Do not wait for the last judgment. It takes place every day.”

  —ALBERT CAMUS

  But such rationalization exacts a tragic price. If you wait too long, it can quickly become too late. Your options might expire, and with them every opportunity to change for the better. You might also begin to believe that something is wrong with you. “I must not be doing enough,” you think. “Maybe I should try harder.” You end up asking more of yourself than is reasonable, or try to do more than your share when you’re already doing enough and no amount of added effort will make a difference. Eventually, you start to feel that you’re no longer running your own life. Your enthusiasm and zest erode. If you’re lucky, something ironic happens: you become so unhappy and so resentful that the situation changes despite yourself, because your spouse can’t stand it any more and leaves, or your boss gets fed up and fires you. But the more likely result is that you get burned out and start to feel old before your time.

  Waiting too long can lead to catastrophe. One executive I know was uncomfortable about a new employee but considered him so promising that he kept him on—just long enough to be defrauded out of twenty thousand dollars. Another example is a 38-year-old woman whose biological clock was ticking louder and louder but who stayed with her fiancé in hopes he would change his mind about having children. “He’ll come around,” she told me with certainty. “He’s great with kids, he’s just into his career right now.” She also reasoned that at her age she wasn’t likely to find anyone else who fit the bill anyway. The last time I saw her, she was childless and about to turn 41.

  “Life is its own journey, presupposes its own change and movement, and one tries to arrest them at one’s eternal peril.”

  —LAURENS VAN DER POST

  The itch to change should not be scratched willy-nilly, of course, or you risk another self-defeating behavior: quitting too soon. Look for the telltale signs that the itch is deep and serious. One is losing interest, enthusiasm and concentration—or, in the case of a love affair, passion. You might feel guilty for not trying hard enough, but the problem could be that your heart is no longer in it. Another clue is finding yourself fantasizing a lot, imagining yourself in a different job, for example, or with another lover. A strong indication that change is overdue is getting melancholy or depressed on certain occasions. Birthdays, New Year’s Day, wedding anniversaries, the date you started your job—these are not only times of celebration but of taking stock. If at such times you feel a sense of stagnation as opposed to progress, if you think you’re falling behind or that you’re far from where you thought you’d be, give serious thought to making a change.

  Diplomats say they prefer to deal with the enemy they know rather than the ally they don’t know. However, it’s sometimes wiser to face the unfamiliar. If you wait until you’re burned out, you may burn all your bridges first.

  USABLE INSIGHT:

  Sometimes the grass is greener on the other side.

  TAKING ACTION

  Make an honest assessment of your level of discontent, frustration and unhappiness.

  Ask yourself what you want your life to be like five years from now? Can you get there under present conditions?

  Examine realistically the likelihood that the situation will change. What are the chances it will become more satisfactory? Is there anything you can do to bring that about?

  Ask yourself how bad would you feel if you knew things would never get better.

  Examine your options to see if there are viable alternatives to the status quo. Have you checked with experts? Talked to people who have made a similar change?

  Analyze the risks of leaving. How do they measure up to the consequences of staying?

  If you decide it’s best to change, make a concrete plan and set it in motion, resolving not to be dissuaded by fear or guilt.

  Not Asking for What You Need

  “Ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full.”

  —GOSPEL ACCORDING TO JOHN

  “To live happily with other people one should ask of them only what they can give.”

  —TRISTAN BERNARD

  Each year since their marriage fourteen years earlier, Wendy and Jack Forrestal had spent Christmas week in the same Palm Springs resort. The ritual spanned good times and bad, health and sickness and the raising of two children. For the previous five years, however, each of them had hated it. Each was bored. Each had a yen for change. And neither one said, “Can we go someplace else this year?” Instead, on the assumption that the other would consider it forbidden to break the tradition, they pretended to have a good time.

  For the Forrestals, the stakes were relatively small and the consequences minor. That is not always so when we fail to ask for what we need or want. The desire might be something as mundane as a ride to the airport, but the consequences of not asking for it explicitly can be profound. Take this typical situation, for example: Ozzie drops a hint, hoping it will get him what he wants without his having to put himself on the line. “Gee, I have to get to the airport by seven,” he says. His frustration mounts as he waits for Harriet to offer a ride. By the time he has to call a cab, he’s angry. In his mind, he’s tallied all the favors he’s done for Harriet and has concluded that she’s selfish and inconsiderate. The atmosphere has become tense, and Harriet hasn’t the faintest idea why. If she did know why, she could justifiably protest, “Why the hell didn’t you say you wanted a ride?” Such misunderstandings can jeopardize a friendship.

  More poignant, and far more devastating, are the deeper needs that go unmentioned. For example, many aging parents refrain from asking their children for help because they are afraid of scaring them away or being shunted into a nursing home—or because they feel guilty dragging their busy kids away from their own families. Then an emergency arises and their children, instead of simply doing what’s necessary, roar, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  In no area is this self-defeating behavior better exemplified, or more controversial, than in bed. Despite the flood of advice in magazines and self-help books, asking for what we need sexually remains a highly charged area. It takes courage and trust to ask for it, and a strong soul to listen. Where sex is concerned, our egos are so delicate that instead of hearing a request we are likely to hear criticism; if they have to ask, we figure, then we must be doing something wrong. The one with the need has to decide which is the bigger risk: the frustration of waiting for the partner to figure out what we want (or don’t want), or possibly hurting his or her feelings by asking for it.

  Whether your need is essential or trivial, before you learn to ask for it you have to overcome the pressure to keep quiet. We hold back from asking for what we want for very good reasons:

  We don’t want to hurt or offend the other person.

  It helps us deny our neediness. Men are especially likely to view needing something as a sign of weakness—and to equate asking for it with begging.

  It creates an inner sense of deservedness. Whether we realize it or not, most of us keep score of what we give and receive. Keeping our desires to ourselves lets us feel generous and noble—and to build accounts receivable for the future.

  We might be asked for something in return. We’re afraid if we get what we ask for we’ll have an account payable, and the other person might take advantage.

  We don’t want to risk being refused. When I ask patients why they don’t ask for what they need, they often say, “I wouldn’t know what to do if I was refused.” They’re afraid they might do something destructive, or that the relationship might shift from one that deprives to one that’s over.

  We think we shouldn’t have to ask for it. This illusion reflects a childlike wish to be totally known by another person. We want someone to anticipate our every need and fulfill it, just as parents did when we were infants.

  The dilemma is, waiting for people to give you what you need is a terrific way to not get it. And while you’re waiting, a nu
mber of problems are likely to develop. Feeling deprived as you nurse your unmet need, you can get moody, cold and sullen. You can end up resentful, thinking others know damn well what you need but just don’t want to give it to you. Also, the temptation to fill the gap in some other way can build, leading to foolish behavior, or, in the worst cases, to the kind of compulsion—abusing alcohol or drugs, having affairs, gambling, and so on—that only adds shame and guilt to the feeling of deprivation.

  It’s not weak to ask for what you need. Nor is it selfish or offensive, as long as what you ask for is fair, reasonable and deserved. And it’s not unnecessary. Indeed, asking might be the only way you’ll get it, and just because you can live without it now doesn’t mean you’ll always be able to.

  USABLE INSIGHT:

  You don’t have to ask for what you need as long as you don’t mind not getting it.

  TAKING ACTION

  Accept that you have needs. We all do, and eventually they come out.

  Whatever your need, determine whether or not you can live without it. Some needs are worth sacrificing for the sake of a relationship. But if doing without it bothers you, and you find yourself fantasizing about having it, the need is probably too strong to ignore.

  Realize that if you don’t ask for what you need, there is a good chance the other person won’t know you need it. Few of us are mind readers.

  Try to request what you need without demanding, criticizing or complaining.

  State what you need as a fact. Express it as something you’d like to have from now on, as opposed to focusing on what you haven’t been getting.

  Try to give the other person the option of saying yes or no. It’s okay to hope he says yes, but try not to insist on it.

  Timing is important. If, for example, you want something sexual, don’t ask for it when you’re in bed. Instead, make it part of the prelude to lovemaking, as in, “You know what I’d like to do when you get home tonight?” Or, while watching a sexy movie or reading a book, say, “I’d like to try that sometime.”

  Giving Advice When They Want Something Else

  “The first duty of love is to listen.”

  —PAUL TILLICH

  Elizabeth storms into the house and lets loose. “You won’t believe what happened,” she roars. “I slaved on that proposal for weeks, and he makes the presentation himself. Doesn’t acknowledge me. Doesn’t even thank me in private!”

  While she rants on, her husband Dave squirms in his easy chair, trying to think of the magic words that would calm her down. Finally, he interjects, “For God’s sake, Liz, you’re overreacting.”

  “Overreacting! I deserve some respect from him, not …”

  “Why do you let him get to you?”

  “Thanks a lot. I don’t know why I bother to tell you these things.”

  You know what happens next. What began with Elizabeth’s need to express her feelings turns into a bitter argument. It happens in most relationships. One party turns to the other for sympathy and support, but instead has her feelings trivialized. Then she ends up angry at the very person to whom she turned for understanding.

  “Who cannot give good counsel? ‘Tis cheap, it costs them nothing.”

  —ROBERT BURTON

  This type of interaction occurs when we don’t know how to deal with someone else’s highly charged feelings. We want to make them feel better, to calm them down and help them get over whatever upset them. In the heat of the moment, what seems most expedient is to try to fix things. We jump in with what we think are clearheaded solutions: “Okay, let’s take a look at your options,” or “I told you you should quit that job.” Or, we try to fix things by changing the person’s feelings: “Hey, don’t take it so seriously.” “I’m sure he didn’t mean it, don’t let it bother you.” Worse, we belittle the situation by saying something like, “Hey, just be glad you have a job,” or “You think that’s bad. Did I ever tell you about the time … ?” The intention may be to soothe, but such remarks come across as condescending and insensitive. What the other person hears is, “You’re foolish to feel this way.”

  “Caring is the greatest thing, caring matters most.”

  —FRIEDRICH VON HUGEL

  Such situations are especially delicate when they occur between parents and children. Steve and Tina Robinson came to see me about their daughter Nancy. A bright, charming 9-year-old, Nancy had begun to have trouble with other children. She had been acting belligerent, impatient and intolerant, and as a result was losing friends. When her parents learned what had been going on, they tried to talk to her. They gave her excellent advice about the importance of friendship and the consequences of treating people badly. Nancy’s response was to become moody and sullen. The Robinsons kept trying, but their efforts were met with angry outbursts.

  In my office, I asked Nancy what had been bothering her. “Nothing,” she replied. I asked a few more times, using different words, and finally she said, “I don’t know.” I persisted gently, adding, “There must be something wrong, because you’re such a good kid.” She repeated that she didn’t know, but clearly she was trying to figure out the answer. Then, after a quiet pause, she blurted out, “I was the first to be born, so I’ll be the first to die,” and she began to sob.

  It turns out that Nancy’s change of behavior had begun when her brother was born. The usual difficulty of adjusting to new siblings had been compounded by the connection she made between being older and dying first, and then by feeling alone with her fears. Her parents had responded with advice and guidance, but since neither were firstborn, like Nancy, they couldn’t appreciate her special angst. What she needed was for someone to be patient and persistent in helping her find a way to express what she had been feeling.

  When people are upset, there are usually two components: they are frustrated by the situation itself and they feel alone. We don’t realize this because what we hear is, “I have a problem.” It sounds as if they’re asking for help, so we respond by offering advice. But often what they want first and foremost is simply to feel less alone. They want to see that you care. If you try to fix things without first acknowledging and empathizing with their anguish, it appears to them that you’re being clinical, distant and intellectual, that you’re simply trying to avoid their pain.

  The central problem is, you’re responding to something emotional with something logical. They want comfort and concern. If you offer only a solution, they might hear, “The fact that you’re upset or hurt doesn’t matter to me.” It’s as if you were saying, “Take two aspirin and don’t call me in the morning.”

  When people you care about are upset, before you offer solutions, show them that you care. If you don’t, the anger they already feel will turn on you. They’ll get it off their chest and it will land on your face. “You don’t understand,” they snap. “Of course I understand,” you reply. “This is what you should do about it.” Or, they accuse you of not caring, and you respond with, “What do you mean, I don’t care? Why would I give you a solution if I didn’t care?” By then an energy transfer has taken place: you’re angry and they’ve calmed down.

  Let them know it’s okay to feel whatever they feel and that you empathize: “Gee, if that happened to me I’d be angry too,” or “I’d hate it if that happened,” or “I was in a situation like that once. It was awful.” If you do this, they will immediately feel less alone.

  Then take it a step further: help them finish feeling their feelings. Asking leading questions such as “How bad does it feel?” is an excellent way to encourage them to talk it out. Once they do, they will calm down, and a more constructive discussion can follow.

  USABLE INSIGHT:

  People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.

  TAKING ACTION

  Show that you care about how someone feels by letting him fully express his emotions without censoring, judging or interrupting.

  If you sense that he needs to talk but is reticent, follow up by asking who, w
hat, when, why and where questions.

  If he still hasn’t gotten it all out, help him go deeper by asking questions such as “How bad does it feel?” or “How scared are you?”

  If the reply is vague, press him gently until he qualifies the answer with something like, “I feel like I want to die” or “I’m so terrified I can’t sleep.”

  As a general rule, don’t offer advice unless he asks for it. If you’re not sure whether he wants advice, ask if he would like some help or suggestions.

  Backing Down Because You Don’t Feel Ready

  “Nerves provide me with energy. They work for me. It’s when I don’t have them, when I feel at ease, that I get worried.”

  —MIKE NICHOLS

  “Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is an absurd one.”

  —VOLTAIRE

  Paul was a criminal attorney who, at age 50, was on the brink of burnout. Tired of the stress, tired of office politics, tired of commuting, tired of nightmares in which defendants he helped set free did monstrous things, he decided to take a sabbatical and then open a small private practice near his home. The plan would entail financial risk, but he felt it could work if his family agreed to some downscaling.

  To Paul’s relief, his wife and children supported his decision, and they held firm when the time came to give notice to his company. But Paul himself suddenly became apprehensive. He was on the verge of backing down when he came to see me. “I’m scared out of my mind,” he said. “Maybe I’m making a huge mistake. Maybe I’m just not ready for this.”

  Paul suffered from a misunderstanding many of us have before we make a significant change or start a new undertaking. He assumed that feeling uncomfortable equalled not being ready.

  Whether what we’re about to do is commit to a relationship, start a new career, have children or speak our mind to someone, we often expect to feel an imperturbable readiness, a mythical state of mind that knows no tension, no queasiness, no hesitation, no doubt. When, instead, we feel uneasy, we take it as a sign that we are not truly ready. Giving in to that feeling can be disastrous. When we look back on our lives, we regret not what we did but what we wanted to do and didn’t.