Emotional Courage is Needed to Receive Feedback
By: Beth Sanders
Tags: Feedback, Emotional Health, Resilience, Cities, Community Engagement

Emotional Courage is Needed to Receive Feedback

Receiving information, even when we don’t want to hear it, is an opportunity to learn and grow because it enables us to respond responsibly to new information

The gaslighter

I sat down last year to tell someone close to me that his actions were very hurtful and had harmed our relationship. I had layers of messages I needed to voice, depending on his readiness to hear them, but only the first two came out.

My first message: “When you told me about what happened, you also told me that you hoped it didn’t harm our relationship. I want you to know that I am still feeling quite hurt and yes, it has harmed our relationship.” He shifted in his seat and sternly replied, “Now I know.” I offered up my second message, he shifted again and said, “Can we talk about something fun now?” Me: “I don’t think I can.”

He was uncomfortable and he didn’t want to be uncomfortable. I had been uncomfortable for months, finally letting out some of what I needed to say: repair is needed in our relationship. I no longer had the energy to pretend things were ok when I was deeply hurting. He voiced his need to stop being uncomfortable and have fun instead.

After a few moments in this discomfort, he jumped off his bar stool and these words at me: “When you’re ready to have fucking decent relationships with people, give me a call.” He threw money down on the table to cover the cost of the food he had ordered and stormed out of the restaurant. Six months later I wrote to say I continue to feel hurt by his actions and until we have repaired our relationship, I will keep my distance. No response. More than twelve months later again, still no response.

My feedback to him was rejected; he was unable to incorporate my feedback about his actions, and their consequences for me, into his being. Further, I was gaslighted, blamed for our relationship being on the rocks because “I am not able to have good relationships.”

Right now, there is no room for me in his life unless I am prepared to dismiss my experience, my feelings. A relationship with this person means I have to submit myself to his emotional fragility, to stop threatening his sense of self and identifying how his actions have affected our relationship.

I made the choice for him clear: repair or distance. His silence indicates he is not ready for repair. Now my choice: submit and pretend or keep my distance. I’m choosing distance. While deeply sad, it feels deeply healthy.

Note to the reader: I’ve made a conscious choice to not name “him”. I’ve said the basics of what I needed to say to him, and he acknowledged that now he now knows this. For our relationship to be repaired, the ball is in his court. And so, I write about my experience of him not being able, or ready, to repair our relationship. I am not writing about not him.

The angry old white man

On the last day of my 40s earlier this year, on the eve of my 50th birthday, an old white man got out of his car to yell at and threaten me. It was a sour moment after a fantastic weekend of skiing in the mountains, to celebrate my big birthday with my kids. (Yes, this was just before COVID hit North America!)

We skied in the morning, left early to make the four-hour drive home and once back in the city stopped to pick up some groceries for a delicious meal on the eve of my big day. I pulled out of the parking lot onto a big street. Not too much traffic, but all the same I avoided a near collision when another car and I moved into the same lane from opposite sides. Did we move into the lane at the same time, or did I move into his lane without seeing him there? I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I am sure that there was no collision.

When we pulled up to the traffic lights, he got out of his car and came to my window to yell. “If you do that again…. I’ve got your license. I’m coming to your house…” It lasted a good 30–60 seconds. Almost 8 months later I can still see his red and furious face, his lithe, old body vibrating with anger.

I confess: I gave him the finger after he went on for a while. Before that, a shrug. Then I blew him kisses. The lights went green and I drove away.

I marvel at the degree of his anger when there was no accident. It was the possibility of an accident that fueled him. Nothing happened and he was THAT MAD. A disgruntled old white man disrupted by someone getting in his lane. The blind rage that would compel him to get out of his car and march over to another yelling about an accident that didn’t happen.

I wrote this in my journal:

This man was mad. An irrational man, and I continue to marvel at the risk he took. He had no idea who he would meet when coming up to my car to yell. I could have had a huge kid who would unfold out of the back seat and rise above the guy, telling him to move along. I could have had a pal with a knife, or a gun, to threaten him. I could have been the kind of person that would follow him to his home and harass him and his family. He is lucky that I am not, my kids are not, as angry as him.

Note to reader: In this case, I do not have the choice to name this old white man because he was anonymous. Unlike the gaslighter, I cannot say that I have relayed my experience of him to him. This feels like something responsible to do, yet I do not have that opportunity. And so, I write about my experience of the old white man’s anger, and what it reveals to me.

Two kinds of responses to feedback

It is reasonable to expect that feelings can be talked about and explored in a personal relationship. It is reasonable to expect that drivers can happily go on their way when no accidents happen. There is something out of proportion, and deeply unfortunate, in the behaviour of the gaslighter and the angry old white man.

If I go back a several years, I see several instances where I am the one who speaks the words: “this isn’t working”, “this isn’t appropriate behaviour”, or “I feel like ____ when _____ happens.” When I speak, I notice two kinds of responses: receive and integrate or dismiss and reject. I am not able to understand what is going on for the other, but there is a palpable difference in how I experience these two responses.

The qualities of courage, curiosity and responsibility are alive when I feel another has heard what I have to say. I recognize them within myself when I am the one receiving feedback. “Receiving” feedback means letting the information land, be heard and be acknowledged. It also means there are likely some questions of clarification that come from a place of acceptance of the other’s experience. There is a spirit of curiosity about self, rather than defensiveness. (These are not defensive questions, which are rejection in disguise.)

“Rejecting” feedback could look like gaslighting, blaming or discrediting the sender for the problems that come with the information. Or others could be blamed, or the information is simply denied.

Receiving information, even when we don’t want to hear it, is an opportunity to learn and grow because it enables us to respond responsibly to new information. With curiosity, we can take responsibility for that which is ours to take, and repair as appropriate. Rejecting information means rejecting improvement. It also means rejecting relationship: between people, between ideas, between actions and consequences.

Rejecting information means rejecting improvement. It also means rejecting relationship: between people, between ideas, between actions and consequences.

It hurts to hear you’ve hurt someone. There is a quality of emotional courage that is necessary to tell someone that they have hurt you. And there is also a quality of emotional courage that comes with a willingness to receive information we don’t want to hear, and to grapple with the feelings we experience within ourselves with that information.

I feel disappointed in the gaslighter who chooses to be angry at me for pointing out his actions have hurtful consequences, rather than explore his own emotions and not dump them on me. I took the risk to reveal to him what he did not want to know: that he is capable of harming other people. He is prepared to pretend there is no hurt (for either of us) and leave the emotional labour to me, if we are to have a relationship. I am no longer able or willing to do that emotional labour and choose to not have a relationship instead.

A year ago, I was prepared to talk about it with him. A year later, I have no signs that there is any interest or readiness in him to repair our relationship. And so, I remain at a distance, with questions about how I will recognize readiness in him. The clues come with what I wrote in my journal to the angry old white man.

Emotional maturity

I look for a quality of emotional maturity in my relationships. A good test for emotional maturity is what happens when someone “gets in my lane”.

What I expect of myself and others:

We challenge each other to be emotionally mature. Pointing out problematic behavior and patterns is welcome, because it helps us be better individuals and deepen and improve the quality of our relationships.

Pointing out problematic behavior and patterns is welcome, because it helps us be better individuals and deepen and improve the quality of our relationships. We welcome information we don’t want to hear. This means we make space for new information. We allow each other to express discomfort.

This means we make space for new information. We allow each other to express discomfort. We make room for mistakes. We are gentle with each other. This does not mean we don’t get frustrated, but mistakes are allowed, not disastrous and subject to punishment.

We are gentle with each other. This does not mean we don’t get frustrated, but mistakes are allowed, not disastrous and subject to punishment. We trust that discomfort means growth. Feeling uncomfortable is usually a sign that there is something to learn.

Feeling uncomfortable is usually a sign that there is something to learn. We acknowledge and explore emotion in self and other. Emotions are not something to hide, rather to experience. When they surface, if allowed to be experienced, they are beautiful.

Emotions are not something to hide, rather to experience. When they surface, if allowed to be experienced, they are beautiful. We support each other to own our feelings. We point out when we transfer or project our feelings onto others.

We point out when we transfer or project our feelings onto others. We accept the other’s experience as real and legitimate.

We honour each other’s boundaries. There are times when one of us can’t adequately hold space for the other. We each take responsibility for our own self-awareness and say so. This is not a personal attack or dismissal, but acknowledgement of when and how we can best support each other.

And the gaslighter? I am not the right person to hold space for him for two reasons. First, I am the target of his anger and his hurt and he needs someone other than me to process his emotions with. Second, his anger toward me was violent. I do not feel emotionally safe and this is a boundary I will keep until there are indicators of readiness: ability to acknowledge his emotions, his choices, his actions and the consequences. Maybe that will come one day, maybe it won’t.

I will look after my emotional labour. His is not mine to do.

And the angry old white man? Own your shit. You are infecting others with your pain everywhere you go. I suspect you do this because deep down inside you are hurting. Own it. Get the help you need. Do the work that is only yours to do.

The pattern in me

Over the last several years, I’ve spotted a pattern in my behaviour that I am learning to reset. It is a pattern of pretending relationships are working when they are not, both personal and professional.

If I need to do these things to be in a relationship, then I will choose my sovereignty over another’s comfort:

Resist growing and changing

Shelve my emotions

Dismiss my experience

Put your emotional fragility front and center

Navigate your insecurities

Dance around your blasts of anger

Pretend to be someone I’m not

Speak only in ways that are tolerable to you

Speak only of things that are tolerable to you

Brace myself for your out-of-proportion reaction to feedback

Be who you need me to be

Shut myself down

What I say to myself: “When you are ready for ME to be in the relationship, let me know. It won’t always be easy, but we’ll figure it out if we are both committed to the emotional labour of being in relationship.”

The pattern in us

We are afraid of hearing what we don’t want to hear. It takes courage to hear information from the world around us, or information from deep within us. When we don’t allow feedback, we cause harm. By dismissing feedback, we are protecting our sense of self, but this defensiveness keeps us from growing into more complete and sovereign selves. It keeps us small. It keeps you small and it keeps those around you small.