Hearing It Once (Probably) Isn’t Enough

74 GB. That’s how much information, on average, our brain has to filter through on a daily basis. (Or did in 2017, when the article I got the stat from was published. It’s probably even more now).

So, what’s actually surprising is that we somehow think that saying or hearing something once could ever be enough. 

Not only do we have SO MUCH data to filter through, but we’re also always filtering it through our own processing system, our own brains with their own quirks and ways of making meaning. Humans aren’t computers; we aren’t standardized, don’t have a consistent operating system or programming language with stable meaning. So data is always going to get processed a little bit differently. And it may take several attempted inputs before we really get it. 

Because that’s the thing about communication, and about language in general, actually. Just because we’re listening, just because we hear the words and process them with our very smart brains, and just because we think we get what someone is telling us – doesn’t mean we actually understand. Or that it really sinks in.

Hearing Doesn’t Guarantee Understanding

Somewhere back in my teaching days, I picked up this rule of thumb: if you want students to remember something, you have to tell them six times. Now, I don’t know if that’s a real thing (I’m not invested enough to go down the internet rabbit hole trying to find out), but it was a useful reminder in a lot of ways. While six times feels kind of excessive even in a classroom context, the bottom line is that saying it once is not enough. 

And that’s true both in and outside of a classroom or work environment, and especially true in relationship. People need to hear things a few times to really process them. But I know I can tend to forget that with people I’m close to. It’s a problem that so many of us run into in relationships of all kinds – romantic or otherwise. We fall into the delusion that just because we said something once (or even twice!) the other person should get it. We shouldn’t have to say it again.

But that’s not how it works. We’re always processing words through our own internal filters, and those meanings are never really stable. We all have completely different life experiences. We have different brains, different nervous systems, different emotional responses. We have different histories, different cultures, different families. And so just because we all participate in the shared experience of language doesn’t mean we experience it in the same way. 

In theory, words have stable enough meaning for us to understand one another, but in practice we can’t really rely on another person ever truly understanding us. And that instability is built into the very nature of language itself.

Misunderstanding Is Built into the Way Language Works

[I’m going to put on my PhD hat and get a bit abstract here, but bear with me. I promise it’ll be helpful.] 

The way that language works, at a fundamental level, is that we all agree on a shared meaning. We collectively decide that tree means tree, dog means dog, etc. And that’s how we’re able to communicate with one another. 

However. When I say tree, what kind of tree do you think of? A Christmas tree? A maple tree? The cute, green puff on top of a brown stick that counts as a tree in kids drawings? All of those are “trees,” right? But they aren’t the same tree. So, the meaning is simultaneously the same and different. It’s expansive. It holds space for multiple meanings at once. 

In order for words to work, at a basic level, they have to be stable enough to both retain their meaning and be flexible enough to expand and shift and match different contexts. The “I” of right now – when I’m writing this – isn’t the same “I” as next week, or next month, or next year. But it also is. Which is what’s so fucking weird and challenging about communication.

Let’s look at the word “love.” What is it? What does it mean? When someone says, “I love you,” what does that actually mean? 

When I tell my best friend, basically every day, that I love them, or, more often, when I say, “I fucking love you!” it doesn’t mean the same thing as when I tell a romantic partner “I love you.” Or when I tell my mom I love her. Or when I tell my cat I love him. 

Same word. Different meaning. And I’m the only one who *really* knows the difference. It’s personal, and, in this case, hard to even explain. 

And when someone tells me they love me, the only way to understand that is through the lens of my own experience. I know what I mean when I say I love you, and so I have to make an educated guess about whether they mean the same thing or something similar. But there’s always the possibility that they mean something different. 

Repetition and Reframing Are Necessary and Normal

To reiterate – when someone says something to me there is no guarantee, and no way to guarantee, that I will ever actually really understand what they mean when they say it. The best we can hope for is getting close. For those of you sciency folks reading, language and communication is like an asymptote – we approach the line but will never, can never, reach perfect understanding.

Which is why, so often, we end up in cycles (and unhelpful ones at that) of getting frustrated with other people because “I told you ___!” 

But when you tell your partner it’s important to you that you hear from them every day, or that they are present when you’re together, or that you wake up to a clean kitchen each morning, or that you get to bed at a certain time… they don’t necessarily know what any of that means. Do text messages count as connection or do you mean phone calls? What counts as “being present?” What counts as clean?!?

This is a key part of why we have to tell each other things over and over, and why we have to explain them in different ways. Because when I say “this thing is important to me,” that means something to me – as someone with ADHD, with CPTSD, as someone who works an active program of recovery from drugs and alcohol, who works from home, has a freelance work schedule, and a propensity for overbooking myself – that it may not mean to you. And it’s unreasonable to expect you to understand what I mean just because I said it once.

Does “important” mean that it causes significant emotional distress when those criteria aren’t met? Does it mean that it’s something that feels really good but isn’t fundamentally upsetting if it doesn’t happen? Does it mean I’m communicating a firm, healthy boundary that needs to be honored? Or does “important” mean that I’m requesting help or support or engagement of some kind? All of those are different things! 

In a healthy relationship – romantic or otherwise – both people recognize that just because I said it (once) doesn’t mean you absorbed it. And that goes both ways. Both of us get to practice the grace of recognizing that repetition and reframing are necessary and normal. 

Because I can be listening. I can even hear you. I can say to myself, oh, it’s important to my friend/partner that they get to bed at 9:30. But without further clarification, I don’t know what that means or how to act around it. Does it mean I shouldn’t text after 9:00 – to give them time to wind down? What does their bedtime routine look like and how long does it take? Does it mean that on date or hang out nights, our cut off time is 8:30? 8:45? 9:03?! 

Asking Questions Is Key to Understanding

If we want to understand each other, we have to ask questions. We also have to give each other grace. It might take a few repetitions to sink in. You also might not know which questions to ask each other. You don’t know what you don’t know, and the key is recognizing that communication often isn’t straightforward or immediate.

We also both need to recognize that not getting it isn’t about not paying attention or not listening or not caring. It’s because language is slippery. And because your experience is different from mine. 

What “upset” means to me may not be the same for you. What “support” looks like for me may not be the same for you. What “love” looks like for me may not be the same for you. And that’s why it’s SO important to ask questions and talk about shit.

This comes up in all sorts of couples counseling practices and nonviolent communication practices so it’s not like I’m offering a revolutionary idea here, but if you’re having a hard conversation with a partner or friend and want to get to a resolution – want to actually get closer to understanding each other and absorbing what the other person is trying to tell you – listen, then repeat it back to them. And, for the love of god, try not to get defensive.

I hear that you want to get to bed by 9:30. Does that mean you’d like to leave by 9:00? 

I hear that you want me to take out the trash. When do you need me to take it out? How will I know that?

I hear you want me to be more present. What does that mean? What are the things I’m doing that make it seem like I’m not present?

I hear that you don’t feel supported. What does support look like for you? What can I do that will feel more supportive?

Try to Stop Taking It Personally

If I could impart one piece of wisdom to myself and everyone I know, it’s to remember that it’s not about you. 

When your partner or friend doesn’t understand why you’re upset (even though you told them how important this thing was!!), it’s not because they don’t care or weren’t listening. It’s not about your worth or lovability or importance to them. And it’s probably not even that they weren’t listening. It’s just that they didn’t get it, not in the way that you wanted them to. 

And the truth is, you’re not always going to get it either. We’re all imperfect humans doing the best we can within a system that is inherently full of opportunity for failure. We’re going to fuck up. We’re going to misunderstand one another. 

Healthy relationships aren’t perfect. Nothing is perfect. Perfection is the lie that we try to beat ourselves into submission with. Healthy relationships are the ones that hold space for both rupture and repair, the ones that give grace around miscommunication, and the ones where there’s a fundamental trust that the other person isn’t trying to be an asshole. They just don’t get it yet. And if you don’t want to be an asshole either, then try not to take it personally. And just try explaining it again, kindly and using different words.