Issue 150. January 16, 2026 ✨ Higher Power Coaching & Consulting ✨

I Thought I Was a Great Communicator. I Was Wrong.
For a long time, I believed I was excellent at communicating.
Before recovery, I was a program coordinator at Yale University, managing complex initiatives across as many as 25 schools at a time. I kept information flowing between administrators, educators, partners, and stakeholders. Things ran smoothly. People knew what they needed to know. Deadlines were met.
So I assumed that meant I was a great communicator.
What I didn’t realize was that I was only good at communicating about work.
Interpersonally, especially in close relationships, I was a mess.
I communicated indirectly. I talked to people who weren’t actually involved in the situation. I hinted. I circled. I beat around the bush. I expected people to know things simply because I had decided they should know them.
And when I didn’t understand what someone meant, instead of asking a clarifying question, I filled in the gaps myself. Usually with a story where they had bad intentions and I was about to be hurt, dismissed, or taken advantage of.
That way of communicating quietly wrecked my relationships. Romantic ones especially.
Recovery changed that. Not because I suddenly became “better” at communication, but because I was forced to practice it differently.
Communication Is an Experiment, Not a Performance
I learned how to communicate more effectively while learning how to build boundaries. That’s not an accident.
Boundaries require communication. And communication, like boundaries, is an experimental process. You try something. You notice what happens. You adjust.
One of the clearest examples of this for me came from my recovery from compulsive overeating and sugar addiction.
At first, I told people, “I don’t eat sugar.” That turned me into a research project. Do you eat fruit? What about honey? What about this? What about that?
It felt invasive and uncomfortable.
So I tried saying, “I don’t eat sweets.” That opened a different door. People shared their own struggles. Asked more questions. Wanted more details.
Still too much.
Eventually, I realized I was oversharing. I didn’t need to explain myself to everyone. I didn’t need to educate. I didn’t need to justify.
So I landed on something simple: “I have food issues.”
That was it. No one quizzed me. No one needed more information. And I only shared when it was actually relevant, like when eating together or going to someone’s home.
That taught me something powerful. I was setting boundaries not just around food, but around information. I learned to be intentional about what I shared, how I shared it, and with whom.
That lesson applies directly to romantic relationships.
The One Communication Shift That Changes Everything
If I had to distill everything I’ve learned about healthy communication into one practice, it would be this.
Use “I” statements.
I know you’ve probably heard this before. There’s a reason it keeps coming up.
Most of the women I work with are hyper focused on other people. What they’re doing. What they’re thinking. What they should or shouldn’t do differently. Using “I” language gently brings the focus back where it belongs.
On you.
Instead of “You never listen,” try “I don’t feel heard.”
That small shift changes everything. When you talk about yourself, it’s very hard for someone to argue with your lived experience. When you talk about them, especially with words like never or always, defensiveness kicks in fast.
And once defensiveness enters the room, real communication leaves. Conflict ensues.
Here’s another example. Imagine you’re deciding where to eat.
“You know I hate Chinese food” puts the spotlight on them, adds emotional heat, and invites conflict.
“I prefer Italian cuisine” keeps the focus on what you want. It doesn’t guarantee you’ll get it, but it dramatically increases the chance of an actual conversation instead of an argument.
Or let’s say you’re at an event and you want to leave early.
In the past, I might’ve said, “Don’t you want to go home?” hoping they’d say yes so it would feel like their idea.
That’s not communication. That’s manipulation born of fear.
A cleaner version sounds like, “I’d like to go home.”
Now the truth is on the table. They may not be ready. That’s okay. You can problem solve from there. Separate rides. One person stays, one leaves. Needs still get honored without a fight.
When you say what you want clearly, you’re far more likely to get your needs met. Not because other people are responsible for meeting them, but because you’ve finally made them visible.
What This Makes Possible in Love
Before recovery, I avoided direct conversations. I relied on hints, silence, and hope. Hope that someone would just get it.
Now, I approach relationships with more clarity and self-trust. I say what I feel. I name what I want. I don’t expect mind reading.
And here’s the quiet truth. This kind of communication doesn’t create distance. It creates safety.
To recap:
- Use “I” statements to keep the focus on yourself and reduce defensiveness.
- Be clear and direct instead of hinting or waiting to be understood.
- Treat communication as a skill you practice, not a test you pass or fail.
Clear communication is foundational to healthy boundaries. And healthy boundaries are what make real intimacy possible.
If this resonates and you want to go deeper into how to stay yourself while staying connected, I’d love to have you join me on February 26 for my live workshop, Boundaries for Real Love: Stay Yourself Without Losing the Relationship. Be on the lookout for registration info.
It’s a gentle, practical space to build the kind of clarity and internal safety that makes love feel steadier, not scarier.
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