I Don't Care
I don’t care what you do! It doesn’t matter to me.
Really? Have you said this, either emphatically, or just as a matter of fact? When you reflect on the times you have said it, was it actually true, or is it something you said to protect yourself? To protect your heart in some way? Are you pretending that you aren’t feeling something? In this culture, we are taught that feeling sad, disappointed or upset in some way, or simply revealing our feelings at all, is weak or leaves you vulnerable. I strongly disagree. I’m encouraging you to view being connected to your feelings and sharing them is a super-power. I also wonder if saying ‘I don’t care’ is an effective strategy for reducing the pain or sadness or confusion you might feel in response to someone else’s choices.
Does it ever really hurt less because we announce our indifference?
Connecting to your feelings is a way (possibly the only way) to know what you needs are. They are the most efficient way to uncover what’s important to you --moment by moment. I think everyone who consistently reads my blog knows this. Feelings are our portal to self-awareness.
I much prefer to share with my friends and family how much I do care, that’s why I’m feeling the way I am. I also assure them that I am, at the same time, wanting them to choose freely, in order to meet their needs. Even if I feel sad, or disappointed about what I was hoping to do with them, it is more important to me that it happens freely --meaning everyone’s needs are getting met and I can trust they will advocate for their needs. I will celebrate with them choosing what gives them the most joy (or meets other needs). They can trust that what’s truly alive for them is important to me and I will manage my own feelings, without suggesting they are responsible for my experience. This is how truly honest and cooperative relationships are formed. I am not a fan of obligation, having spent years distinguishing obligation (I should do) from the experience of responsibility as a need. It makes all the difference.
If this is the case, then we are all able to negotiate with freedom and then exploring the wide variety of strategies will arise to meet all the needs present.
One other way to check in with your language is distinguishing caring and preference. I may, and usually do, care about what I eat, and/or where I might go for dinner with friends. I might not have a preference, offering them the freedom to choose. I might care, yet my day is full and I am hoping they will take the lead (burden) of doing the research and making the decision. My needs for freedom, spaciousness, and ease are met in this case. I still care. I will rarely, if ever, say, “I don’t care where we go”, because it is simply untrue.
Conversely, I want to know if who I am negotiating with actually cares, or doesn’t. Knowing this makes a difference in how I move forward in relationship with this person. I’m likely to stay a bit distant in a relationship with someone who doesn’t care much if my needs are met or not. There may be reasons to stay engaged, yet knowing this will impact my decisions.
Sometimes people do care, yet their ‘wounds’, and pain run so deep they have developed habits of protection which remain invisible, or in the shadows. It is difficult (or impossible) for them to show their care in ways that I might like. If I am aware that this is what’s happening, then I typically listen for the care by translating their words into needs. So often I am grateful for my capacity to just hear the needs they are hoping to meet, rather than any criticism or protection they might be sharing with their words. My reply will be speaking to the needs that are so precious to them. My intention is that our conversation might even be healing as they are being seen and heard in ways that may never been possible, having always been ‘made wrong’ for what they were saying.
I teach monthly with a friend. I remember her offering in a class, or a planning session something Marshall Rosenberg taught that I hadn’t heard before. He said that all of our requests are asking two things: 1. For the thing we want, and 2. An implicit (hidden) request for confirmation that we matter. The need for belonging, to contribute to our close people, to matter are so vital to our well-being and feeling safe in the world, our response when not met (or seemingly not met) is to become instantly in a state of distress, making it difficult to navigate what’s happening with ease and a clear mind. When we can remember this, and track on our own feelings and needs, as well as the people we are relating to, the more easily we can shift the experience we are having back into connection, curiously and care.
The honesty and tenderness that NVC invites to explore, our own and others’ is one of the greatest gifts I have received from implementing the skills into my life. I hope you will take the time to invite this into your life and relationships as well.