We used to be so close, but their blunt communication style keeps hurting my feelings.
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Dear Hera,
I have a cousin I was very close to as a kid through our mid-20s, but recently we have drifted apart and it has become very hard to connect with them. They are one of the closest cousins in age to me (they are a few years older than me; I’m 30).
In their late 20s, they went through a pretty rough period that has left them chronically disabled and unable to work. They have also been on a bumpy and ongoing journey, coming out as queer and autistic. None of this impacts the love or support for them I have in any way, shape or form.
But I now feel it is very difficult to talk to them about anything, because as a result of this stretching and exploration of their identity, they have formed some very firm opinions about gender/sexuality, politics, capitalism, the disability space (apropos of nothing, I ALSO have a chronic illness, albeit one that is different to theirs) and that crosses over to almost all topics. Essentially, if you don’t agree with them now on any of the above, it feels like there is no room for nuance and your words are taken in their least charitable interpretation.
This has resulted in at least one discussion where my feelings were incredibly hurt (though no, they probably don’t know that because I didn’t want to hurt THEIR feelings by bringing it up). I know this communication approach is one trait common among neurodivergent people, but I don’t just want to brush my own feelings aside.
As a result, I’ve felt unable to talk to them about anything big or important, for fear of coming across wrong or accidentally offending them. Sure we still text, but it’s all pretty superficial stuff compared to how it once was. I don’t know how to bring up the fact I feel like I can’t connect with them anymore without sounding like I’m not supporting their (valid!!) needs and accommodations. But also, maybe they don’t feel the same way and it’s all in my head??
Basically, how do I express to this cousin that I love and support them, but also that I feel a bit hurt and want to work on reshaping our relationship???
From,
A Cousin Adrift
Dear ACA,
This is another one of those letters which falls into the category of “how to have a difficult conversation with someone you love.” To which my answer is usually, reluctantly.
This question has been stressing me out all week. Every time I try to answer it sensibly, I feel myself coming over in tedious platitudes. Use I based statements. Come from a place of vulnerability rather than blame. Ask questions to get to the heart of things. The whole thing makes me feel irrationally disgusted, like taking a shit in public. What’s wrong with the old Anglican method of slowly internalising all your anger until it calcifies into cancerous nugget you carry with you to your grave?
However, that’s not the attitude of a responsible advice columnist, so I’m going to grit my teeth and try a little harder.
I often get similar letters, from people wanting to know how to convert their belligerent oil magnate relatives into seeing the wisdom of the capital gains tax. I don’t often get letters from people on the same side of the political spectrum.
In an ideal world you would have said what you needed to in the moment, instead of carrying your grievance around like a sack of festering roadkill. But difficult conversations are difficult for a reason, and it’s hard to let someone you love know they’ve fucked you off. It’s even harder when they have a blunt communication style, and a bunch of fresh ideologies burning a hole in their pocket.
In your cousin’s defence, I think it’s easy, when newly politically awakened, to go a little rhetorically overboard. Usually such people have their hearts in the right place, and a little time slumming it in the real world tends to soften their ideological corners. However, some people remain annoying forever.
It’s hard to know what to suggest with this sort of person. Do you try to increase their tolerance for dissenting opinions by picking a few low stakes fights about harmless bullshit, or do you grit your teeth and save up the truth for when it really matters?
On the surface, “how do I tell my cousin they’ve hurt my feelings?” is straight out of a 1950s church newsletter. But figuring out how to tell someone you love they’re being a pain in the ass in a way that enriches and deepens your relationship requires top tier diplomacy skills.
It almost feels like you’re asking for a script, but I’m a hater of script-based interaction. It’s too easy to recklessly suggest you just tell your cousin what you’re thinking. The last thing I want to do is push you out of the helicopter with a false sense of optimism and a copy of “non-violent communication” to break your fall. No matter how many Ted Talks on the radical power of vulnerability you watch, it’s hard to find a productive way to argue with someone you love. Ask any tenured couples therapist.
As far as I can see, you have a few options.
- Grit your teeth and say what you need to say. Sometimes the only way to survive a relationship with a bulldozer is to become more of a bulldozer yourself. It’s possible your cousin might even appreciate a blunt approach. But people don’t always have to take criticism well for the conversation to be a success. Sometimes there’s no polite way to impart a difficult truth. Even if your cousin reacts poorly in the moment, the message may eventually sink in, even if you have to endure a little temporary sulking.
- Play the long game. Closeness and radical transparency aren’t necessarily the same thing. I’m not saying you shouldn’t say anything when your cousin offends you. But it might be received better in the moment, rather than reheating your stale grievance months later, or holding a “state of the nation” about your relationship. It’s OK to roll your eyes and let some things slide, for the sake of posterity. If longevity is your goal, sometimes forgiveness is more productive than honesty. I don’t know how psychologically enlightened this is, but it serves you right for writing into a New Zealand advice columnist.
- Go away to a cabin together and take a lot of mood enhancing drugs. Have a nine-hour conversation that brings you both to a plane of new understanding.
#1 is the answer I feel I’m supposed to give, with a little nauseatingly disingenuous “speak from a place of vulnerability” thrown in. #2 is what I would do, in your situation. And #3 is probably the most fun/likely to produce a positive outcome.
Good luck!
