The Conversations I Keep Replaying
I noticed something strange about the way my mind edits conversations. It usually begins about ten minutes after the conversation is already over. It doesn’t matter whether it was at a dinner table, in a parking lot, or over coffee, the replay always starts the same way.
If I walk away from the exchange feeling happy, the tape can start a bit later. However, if I leave while I’m in the middle of feeling uncomfortable, the do-over has already begun.
The editing begins with an overview of the whole interaction. I replay the sentences one by one and start questioning how they landed.
Did I talk too much? Maybe I talked too long about that one thing. Or was that when I started talking too fast? I look for the sentence that didn’t get the reaction I’d hoped for, or the comeback that wasn’t received as intended. I’m always editing myself.
Just then I start to think, of course I was editing, I’m a writer. That’s what we do. I should be monitoring my conversations to see how I can improve my behavior.
One thing I’ve always punished myself for is not being able to effortlessly annotate the information I share from things I have watched, read, or listened to. I would never use someone else’s ideas in writing without giving them credit, but I do it all the time in conversations.
Why did I even mention that story if it always makes me feel small? Why can’t I just remember not to bring it up if I can’t remember who said it and where?
That leads me to thinking about my other discussion behaviors. I’m back to the voice in my head, replaying the tape. Did I interrupt? Why couldn’t I just relax and let others have the floor?
It happens when I feel like I’m shrinking, so I’ll just speak up. I’m trying so hard to quiet my own inner voices, I end up rudely speaking over others. This particular behavior doesn’t happen that often. I think it’s because I’m so cognizant of it in others and it really disturbs me. Funny, but when this behavior in someone else begins to get under my skin, I find the only way to deal with it is to dish it out. Usually, I end up interrupting the interrupter.
Did that sound arrogant? I should have phrased that differently. More succinct. Great! Now I’m over-explaining! That’s another hit song on the conversation rewind. And this is when things take a turn for the worse.
What started out as a healthy look at my conversational behavior has now turned into a character assassination.
I am many things, but certainly not arrogant!
Oh my. That sounded a bit haughty, too!
Let’s go back to the behavior. Sometimes the replay starts even before the conversation. I’ll be staring at a text message or email draft, considering all the different ways it could be subject to interpretation. I’ll rewrite a sentence. Remove a line. Soften the tone. I keep reading over and over for possible misunderstandings.
I love to write, but written conversations are the worst. In verbal exchanges, my tone is everything.
My attention lands on the fact that I waste an enormous amount of time, energy, and effort on editing myself. If I could only be sure that there was some good to come out of it. If only I knew that my interrupting or over-explaining behaviors would improve with all of this scrutiny.
I’m happy that my meditation practice seems to be helping with the nervous system responses of talking too fast or starting to feel small. I can inconspicuously do a few breathing techniques and get myself back under control. Usually.
But that’s in the moment. Once I walk away, I’m sure the editing will begin.
This felt very familiar. That shift from reflection into something more critical happens so quickly. I really appreciated how clearly you named it.
Thank you for putting words to something many of us experience but rarely name. It made me pause and look at my own patterns with more compassion.
Oh the many conversations I have redone or obsessed over or rehearsed in the shower! I can totally relate to this. I think a lot about my grandfather and his uncanny way or thinking and speaking slowly, with so much focus on who he was speaking too. I aim to be like that one day.