When We Reply to What Wasn't Said
The stories we create from someone else's words often reveal more about us than they do about them
Some people talk based off assumption. Others communicate based on observations. Some communicate more congruently, and others not.
You can call it neurotypical and neuro not, but I will call it survival mode or not.
I think some people reply to what they assume you mean instead of what you actually said. That interaction will forever confuse me.
I can state a fact or a feeling, and someone replies from what, to me, seems like left field.
"Meh, I wish I didn't wear this jacket."
"Don't worry, it looks cute."
Internally: I know. That's why I am wearing it. What does that have to do with me being hot and not wanting to carry it?
That disconnect fascinates me. When someone replies to speak instead of replying to hear.
I didn't actually require a response, which I have commentary on for a different day.
Nevertheless, I said it, and the person in earshot assumed the context and their role to reply. In that moment, I learned a little about their world. I can't say I understand their values or motivation, so I won't mind-read.
I can, however, be curious.
I wonder what happened for them that their reaction to someone not wanting something on their body relates to the cuteness level.
Not good.
Not bad.
Just information.
I will do my best not to assume about them in the future. For now, I will leave this curiosity to the wind because I will not know. Instead, I will focus on what I do know.
I sometimes assume when I listen, and I sometimes assume when I speak.
I do my best not to. And I also do because that is, in some parts, the society and context I live in. Some parts survival and some parts incongruent.
I often find it grounding to remember that, as unheard and misunderstood as I feel in those moments, I am offered an opportunity. An opportunity to notice where I am making assumptions, too.
And in the moments I can't see it, I hope to see the reflection it shows me.
Somewhat Congruent and Always Cute,
Candice