I once had a hairdresser in the Russian neighbourhood of Coney Island in Brooklyn. In those days, when my son was still an energetic toddler, looking for a hairdresser was about number 20 on my list of things I needed, much less wanted, to attend to. Given my scarcity of free time and desire not to experiment, I preferred to hold onto what I had.
Marina’s salon was not too far away from my house, and she gave a pretty good cut and highlights at a decent price by New York standards. She also let me catch up on my reading while she was doing my hair, which any new mom with precious little time for her own interests knows is a huge boon.
Marina was a tough woman of few words; she seemed averse to conversation and bristled at suggestions. I once asked her to please not cut any layers that day and by the look on her face, I nearly feared her scissors would begin to fly like javelins. She informed me tersely that I’d already mentioned the layers to her. I definitely had not, because any words I ever spoke to her actually took a fair bit of courage and preparation on my part before I dared utter them! Surely I would’ve remembered whatever I’d said to her beyond a mere “hello.”
Marina had become a bit like Seinfeld’s famous Soup Nazi to me: a really cantankerous character I normally would avoid but who nonetheless had something I wanted (a trustworthy haircut and color that I didn’t need to spend much energy thinking about) that made me willing to play her game and avoid ruffling her feathers.
So one day, as I was driving over to Marina’s shop, I wrestled internally with how to inform her that I wanted the highlights to be a bit less ashy this time. I had pictures (she hated those) and knew how to tell her what I wanted. I just wasn’t sure about how I would frame my request without provoking her irritation.
“Just as we tend to assume that the world is as we see it, we naively suppose that the people are as we imagine them to be.”
-Carl Jung
Now of course this is an utterly ridiculous story, and even a bit embarrassing to retell. Why didn’t I just get a different hairdresser? I believe the answer mostly lies in my lack of time or interest at that time, but perhaps there is more to it. I was surprised at my own inadequacy when it came to communicating with this person. It seemed that if I met this small challenge, it would have a ripple effect through my other relationships.
I decided to look to someone who I consider a master of tough conversations. He always seems able to come to a resolution on any topic with almost any person, and walk away on friendly terms. I really wanted to understand his talent and bring it into my own life.
After a few conversations with him on the topic, I managed to distil his gift down to a few basic principles,and today, I’d like to share with you the magic formula I came to for having uncomfortable conversations .
Address any negative feelings or assumptions you have toward the person with whom you will be having the difficult conversation with.
My friend practised owning his own negative feelings. By doing this, he could take back his own projections from the other person before they could interfere in the communication he was trying to have with them.
What are projections? Explained simply, they are the parts of ourselves that we are unable to accept or acknowledge, and that we reject by projecting onto others. It’s generally easy to find out what you are projecting onto the other simply by noticing what triggers you about them. In my case, I saw Marina as an impatient person who didn’t stop to listen to what others had to say.
Take back the Projection
Notice someplace in your own life where this same energy lives. For me, it was easy. I’ve been impatient ever since I can remember. When hearing a needlessly long-winded explanation of something mundane (like why the dishwasher stopped working, or how to invest money from your IRA) I tend to tune out and then ask for the cliffnotes afterwards. When I was feeling a lack of time, like I did chronically when I was a new mom, the impatience in me amplified. I could be quite dismissive of those I was close to when I felt strung out for time and it seemed there just wasn’t enough of me to go around.
So, I could identify my dismissiveness and impatience in Marina. I just didn’t much like being on the receiving end of it.
Assume that person knows something, or has something going on, that you don’t know about.
It was hard to imagine Marina had some reason for not wanting instruction on how to style my hair other than pure arrogance. And after all, it was her job to take instruction on how to style other people’s hair, so it’s not like I was forcing her to discuss something she couldn’t care less about. But what if there was some other reason for her irritation? I’d assumed that it was the content of my request that bothered her, but perhaps it was the delivery or the timing.
Was she hungry? When I thought about it, I realised I often made my appointments with her before lunchtime. Bad idea! Ever hear of the Hungry Judge Effect? Judges are about 65% more likely to grant a lenient sentence when the hearing is after breakfast or lunch.
Hunger might sound like a trite explanation for rudeness, but actually it is a legitimate reason for many of our more clumsily executed conversations. We just don’t think properly or show our best selves when we are hungry (or tired, for that matter. )
Once you’ve got these issues sorted out in your mind, you are ready to go in for the conversation. Here are a few more things to consider while doing it:
Ask permission first.
Imagine that when you are opening up a conversation on a new topic, you are inviting someone into a new room. It’s not going to be effective to step into that room on your own and then hope the other person will follow. Instead, you need to invite them to join you. This is the respectful way to proceed into a conversation with someone, because you are giving them the option to defer the conversation to a more convenient time in case they are hungry or busy or distracted. You are also avoiding leaving them with the uncomfortable feeling that they’ve stepped into something they would’ve preferred to avoid.
So, going back to my conversation with Marina, here is what it looked like:
I waited to settle into the chair and exchanged some niceties. I let Marina prepare her instruments and get settled, and then I asked permission. “Excuse me, Marina, would it be ok if I made a request?” The “excuse me” might sound overly polite, but in this case I believe it won her trust. I think what Marina wanted above all else was to feel respected.
She appeared slightly startled. “Of course!” she said, smiling for the first time in my memory. I explained to her my thoughts about doing something different with the colour this time. And then I asked if it would be helpful to show some photos to her, or if she’d rather just show me a colour swatch and have me choose the shade from there. She became warm and inviting. We looked at the pictures together and then she proceeded to give me a great cut and colour, without the tension I often had felt in the past.
I felt like an aikido master! Why was it so easy to defrost such a chilly feeling person with just simple words??
Looking back, I was able to see that the impatience I had been projecting onto Marina was making me feel nervous around her. I didn’t quite trust her to be open or accepting. And she was picking up on that and feeling irritated. Once I dropped the projection, we both could relax.
Speaking of projections, of course it occurred to me to wonder to what degree Marina had been projecting her own negative experiences with other clients onto me. Did she expect I was entitled or demanding based on past scenarios with other clients? Probably. And she probably would’ve been an easier person to interact with if she had taken back her own projections as well.
But the point is, I found a place of harmony with her just by doing my own work on myself and without the benefit of her doing any of that work herself.
And guess what? Once I was able to get straight with all this in my own mind, I was able to feel much more trust in Marina’s innate goodwill. It turned out to be a good gamble, because when I got to know her, I learned she is a good-hearted person who simply doesn’t like a lot of superfluous words. Quite a lot like me.
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