Day 287

Confession: There was always a bit of risk that came with asking questions as a kid. And I was never safely questioned.  I think it’s a huge part of why I’m horrible at asking questions as an adult or feel forced to answer.

Today my friend and I talked about the gap between people who connect by asking questions and those who relate by offering their own experience.

I’m someone who answers questions and offers experience.  It’s not a pattern I enjoy.

I like being asked questions until those questions lead to more questions. I get frazzled because I find it difficult to differentiate between what to answer and what to leave alone. Often my brain takes over and answers for me, like I have to. Because in my past, I didn’t have a choice.

My past also makes asking questions feel like something I shouldn’t be doing. Like I’m prying or forcing something. I feel more comfortable when someone offers information. It feels safe.

I’ve walked away from conversations giving everything to someone, while knowing nothing in return. It’s never my intention. I’ve practiced a lot to change that outcome.

I’m getting better at it, in my own way.

But I hate to admit that sometimes I just don’t care about asking anything. I feel like there’s a lot I don’t need to know if you don’t tell me, and there’s a lot you don’t need to know about me.

Sound of the day: Burnham – In the Shadow of the Valley https://youtu.be/hrUXAC_wqrY?si=npKFAGEdACSROMzt