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Long before I reached adulthood, I learned to communicate in an impersonal way that did not require me to reveal what was going on inside of myself. When I encountered people or behaviors I either didn’t like or didn’t understand, I would react in terms of their wrongness. If my teachers assigned a task I didn’t want to do, they were “mean” or “unreasonable.” If someone pulled out in front of me in traffic, my reaction would be, “You idiot!” When we speak this language, we think and communicate in terms of what’s wrong with others for behaving in certain ways, or occasionally, what’s wrong with ourselves for not understanding or responding as we would like. Our attention is focused on classifying, analyzing, and determining levels of wrongness rather than on what we and others need and not getting. Thus if my partner wants more affection than I’m giving her, she is “needy and dependent.” But if I want more affection than she is giving me, then she is “aloof and insensitive.” If my colleague is more concerned about details than I am, he is “picky and compulsive.” On the other hand, if I am more concerned about details than he is, he is “sloppy and disorganized.”
It is my belief that all such analyses of other human beings are tragic expressions of our own values and needs. They are tragic because, when we express our values and needs in this form, we increase defensiveness and resistance to them among the very people whose behaviors are of concern to us. Or, if they do agree to act in harmony with our values because they concur with our analysis of their wrongness, they will likely do so out of fear, guilt, or shame.
Once, during a discussion among parents and teachers on the dangers of a language that implies absence of choice, a woman objected angrily, “But there are some things you have to do whether you like it or not! And I see nothing wrong with telling my children that there are things they have to do too.” Asked for an example of something she “had to do,” she retorted, “That’s easy! When I leave here tonight, I have to go home and cook. I hate cooking! I hate it with a passion, but I have been doing it every day for twenty years, even when I’ve been as sick as a dog, because it’s one of those things you just have to do.” I told her I was sad to hear her spending so much of her life doing something she hated because she felt compelled to, and hoped that she might find happier possibilities by learning the language of NVC.
I am pleased to report that she was a rapid student. At the end of the workshop, she actually went home and announced to her family that she no longer wanted to cook. The opportunity for some feedback from her family came three weeks later when her two sons arrived at a workshop. I was curious to know how they had reacted to their mother’s announcement. The elder son sighed, “Marshall, I just said to myself, ‘Thank God!’” Seeing my puzzled look, he explained, “I thought to myself, maybe finally she won’t be complaining at every meal!”
Another time, when I was consulting with language that for a school district, a teacher remarked, acknowledges choice. “I hate giving grades. I don’t think they are helpful and they create a lot of anxiety on the part of students. But I have to give grades: it’s the district policy.” We had just been practicing how to introduce language in the classroom that heightens consciousness of responsibility for one’s actions. I suggested that the teacher translate the statement “I have to give grades because it’s district policy” to “I choose to give grades because I want . . . ” She answered without hesitation, “I choose to give grades because I want to keep my job,” while hastening to add, “But I don’t like saying it that way. It makes me feel so responsible for what I’m doing.” “That’s why I want you to do it that way,” I replied.
The first component of NVC entails the separation of observation
from evaluation. We need to clearly observe what we are seeing,
hearing, or touching that is affecting our sense of well-being,
without mixing in any evaluation.
Observations are an important element in NVC, where we wish
to clearly and honestly express how we are to another person. When
we combine observation with evaluation, however, we decrease the
likelihood that others will hear our intended message. Instead, they
are apt to hear criticism and thus resist what we are saying.
The third component of NVC entails the acknowledgment of the root of our feelings. NVC heightens our awareness that what others say and do may be the stimulus, but never the cause of our feelings. We see that our feelings result from how we choose to receive what others say and do, as well as our particular needs and expectations in that moment. With the third component, we are led to accept responsibility for what we do to generate our own feelings.
When someone gives us a negative message, whether verbally or nonverbally, we have four options as to how to receive it. One is to take it personally by hearing blame and criticism. For example, someone is angry and says, “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met!” In choosing to take it personally, we might react, “Oh, I should’ve been more sensitive!” We accept the other person’s judgment and blame ourselves. We choose this option at a great cost to our self-esteem, for it inclines us toward feelings of guilt, shame, and depression.
A second option is to fault the speaker. For example, in response to “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met,” we might protest, “You have no right to say that! I am always considering your needs. You’re the one who is really self-centered.” When we receive messages this way, and blame the speaker, we are likely to feel anger.
When receiving a negative message, our third option would be to shine the light of consciousness on our own feelings and needs. Thus, we might reply, “When I hear you saying that I am the most self-centered person you’ve ever met, I feel hurt, because I need some recognition of my efforts to be considerate of your preferences.” By focusing attention on our own feelings and needs, we become conscious that our current feeling of hurt derives from a need for our efforts to be recognized.
Finally, a fourth option in receiving a negative message is to shine the light of consciousness on the other person’s feelings and needs as they are currently expressed. We might for example ask, “Are you feeling hurt because you need more consideration for your preferences?”
Stage 3: At the third stage, emotional liberation, we respond to the needs of others out of compassion, never out of fear, guilt, or shame. Our actions are therefore fulfilling to us, as well as to those who receive our efforts. We accept full responsibility for our own intentions and actions, but not for the feelings of others. At this stage, we are aware that we can never meet our own needs at the expense of others. Emotional liberation involves stating clearly what we need in a way that communicates we are equally concerned that the needs of others be fulfilled. NVC is designed to support us in relating at this level.
MBR: “Yes, it can be difficult to make clear requests. But think how hard it will be for others to respond to our request if we’re not even clear what it is!”
Client: “I’m starting to get clear what I want from others to fulfill my need for love, but it’s embarrassing.”
MBR: “Yes, very often it is embarrassing. So what would you like for me or others to do?”
Client: “If I really reflect upon what I’m requesting when I ask to be loved, I suppose I want you to guess what I want before I’m even aware of it. And then I want you to always do it.”
MBR: “I’m grateful for your clarity. I hope you can see how you are not likely to find someone who can fulfill your need for love if that’s what it takes.”
Very often, my clients were able to see how the lack of awareness of what they wanted from others had contributed significantly to their frustrations and depression.
However, in other instances, we may express our discomfort and incorrectly assume that the listener has understood the underlying request. For example, a woman might say to her husband, “I’m annoyed you forgot the butter and onions I asked you to pick up for dinner.” While it may be obvious to her that she is asking him to go back to the store, the husband may think that her words were uttered solely to make him feel guilty.
Even more often, we are simply not conscious of what we are requesting when we speak. We talk to others or at them without knowing how to engage in a dialogue with them. We toss out words, using the presence of others as a wastebasket. In such situations, the listener, unable to discern a clear request in the speaker’s words, may experience the kind of distress illustrated in the following anecdote.
What response was the man wanting? I believe he wanted to hear that his pain was understood. If his wife had known this, she might have responded, “It sounds like you’re scared we might miss our plane, and disgusted because you’d like a faster train running between these terminals.”
In the above exchange, the wife heard the husband’s frustration but was clueless as to what he was asking for. Equally problematic is the reverse situation—when people state their requests without first communicating the feelings and needs behind them. This is especially true when the request takes the form of a question. “Why don’t you go and get a haircut?” can easily be heard by youngsters as a demand or an attack unless parents remember to first reveal their own feelings and needs: “We’re worried that your hair is getting so long it might keep you from seeing things, especially when you’re on your bike. How about a haircut?”
It is more common, however, for people to talk without being conscious of what they are asking for. “I’m not requesting anything,” they might remark, “I just felt like saying what I said.” My belief is that, whenever we say something to another person, we are requesting something in return. It may simply be an empathic connection—a verbal or nonverbal acknowledgment, as with the man on the train, that our words have been understood. Or we may be requesting honesty: we wish to know the listener’s honest reaction to our words. Or we may be requesting an action that we hope would fulfill our needs. The clearer we are on what we want back from the other person, the more likely it is that our needs will be met.
Our requests are received as demands when others believe they will be blamed or punished if they do not comply. When people hear us make a demand, they see only two options: submission or rebellion. Either way, the person requesting is perceived as coercive, and the listener’s capacity to respond compassionately to the request is diminished.
The more we have in the past blamed, punished, or “laid guilt trips” on others when they haven’t responded to our requests, the higher the likelihood that our requests will now be heard as demands. We also pay for the use of such tactics by others. To the degree that people in our lives have been blamed, punished, or urged to feel guilty for not doing what others have requested, the more likely they are to carry this baggage to every subsequent relationship and hear a demand in any request.
Let’s look at two variations of a situation. Jack says to his friend Jane, “I’m lonely and would like you to spend the evening with me.” Is that a request or a demand? The answer is that we don’t know until we observe how Jack treats Jane if she doesn’t comply. Suppose she replies, “Jack, I’m really tired. If you’d like some company, how about finding someone else to be with you this evening?” If Jack then remarks, “How typical of you to be so selfish!” his request was in fact a demand. Instead of empathizing with her need to rest, he has blamed her.
there are some slight differences between the pdf and the hard copy i have which is annoying but whatever. im doing my best