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Apparently, I Need a Disclaimer




I think I need to start carrying around a disclaimer: Before we continue this conversation, please know that I probably mean well. I may say something stupid. I may make a joke that doesn't land. I may use the wrong words. Please refer to the previous however-many years of knowing me before determining that I am secretly an asshole.

Because lately, I feel like I spend an incredible amount of time explaining myself. This isn't about one person or one conversation. It's happening in friendships, volunteer work, family, life. I'll say something, someone takes it differently than I meant it, and suddenly I'm explaining what I meant, what I didn't mean, why I said it, and most importantly, that I wasn't trying to hurt anyone.

Then, because I'm me, I replay the whole thing. Could I have worded it better? Probably. Should I have said it at all? Maybe not. Did I have some secret malicious intention underneath it? Jesus Christ, no. And that's the part I'm struggling with.

I'm completely capable of saying the wrong thing. I joke. I'm sarcastic. I talk before I've completely thought something through. Sometimes something sounds much better inside my head than it does once it enters the world. If you know me, none of this is breaking news. I also believe people are allowed to tell me when I've hurt them. I want the people I love to be able to say, “Hey, that hurt my feelings.” I want to listen, apologize when I need to, and do better.

But I'm starting to realize there's a big difference between someone saying, “That hurt my feelings,” and someone wondering, “What does that say about how you really feel about me?”

The first one I can work with. The second one hurts.

I want the people who know me to know that I can get the words wrong without getting my heart wrong. I can make a bad joke without secretly judging you. I can say something clumsily without there being some hidden meaning underneath it. I can hurt your feelings accidentally and care very much that I did.

Someone told me today that sometimes you just have to let people misunderstand you. I hated that advice immediately, which is usually a pretty good indication that I probably need to hear it.

My instinct is always to fix it. Explain it. Send another text. Find better words. Make sure we're okay. Make sure nobody walks away believing something about me that isn't true. I will exhaust myself trying to get someone to understand what was in my heart when I said something.

But I can't actually control that.

I can be accountable for my words. I can apologize. I can listen. I can learn. I can try to communicate better. I can even occasionally keep a thought inside my head, which is probably personal growth worth celebrating.

What I can't do is spend my life proving that I'm coming from a place of love.

Maybe that's what I'm finally trying to learn. I don't need everyone to agree with me, and I certainly don't need everyone to like me. But I do need relationships where there is room for imperfection and where years of showing someone who I am count for something.

I don't want to keep editing myself into a version that is impossible to misunderstand, because I'm pretty sure that version of me doesn't exist. So if I hurt someone, I want to know. If I owe an apology, I'll give it. If I need to do better, I'll try.

But if, after all of that, someone still believes there was something ugly in my intentions, maybe I have to let them.

I can't keep exhausting myself trying to prove my heart.

The people who truly know me should already have a pretty good idea what's in it. ❤️

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