When I mentioned I was writing this essay, my friend Brin called it "final boss content." That made me laugh, but the thing is, she's not wrong. It sort of is. She also wondered if it isn't a bit soon for final boss content just three weeks into the existence of this website, and she's not wrong about that, either. I contemplated the concept of a "monthly miniboss" essay and turning Big Thoughts into regular occurrences, but quite honestly, I'm reluctant as hell to commit to that magnitude of undertaking so frequently, or even suggest that I might hit such peaks at regular intervals.
Anyway. Interpersonal communication.
One of the things in my life which has continually frustrated me in the worst way imaginable is this unspoken assumption that dating is supposed to be a double-blind mind game of "impress the other person" where you're not allowed to communicate directly or actually, y'know, ask things.
I hate feeling like I'm supposed to hide my feelings, whatever they are; that I can't be too open and tell a person if I like them; that I can’t say so if I don't think things will work out. I hate having to guess what their responses to me mean, in turn, and having to stress over miniscule body language cues trying to figure out what those mean, or if they even DO mean anything. I hate having to worry about every tiny thing I do and how somebody else could possibly interpret it. I hate the constant jockeying for position and the obligatory attempts to impress that usually come off shallow and transparent. I hate not knowing where I stand. There's not enough time and life in the world for any of that.
One of my favourite webcomics ran an installment once upon a time where just this sort of thing was going on between two characters. The author's sarcastic comment on that page was, "Never ask, only guess." So NAOG became my personal watchword for just this sort of idiocy.
It's gotten to the point where for the past ten or fifteen years, I simply refuse any longer to play the un-communication game of posturing, hiding, guessing, and never really knowing. My dating profiles have included statements along the lines of "Ask me about NAOG, it's important," and I've made certain that it's been a point of conversation with every prospective partner I've considered in that time.
The reactions I’ve received to this philosophy have been mixed, to put it mildly.
On the one hand, some of the people I have the greatest respect for in my life are all in on these extreme levels of open communication, and it's from one of them in fact that I acquired this level of communication skills and the habit of employing them so consistently.
On the other hand, I've had people offer reactions like, "I guess I can see that for neurodivergent people and I'm willing to cut them some slack if the intent is good."
Clear communication benefits everybody, not just neurodivergent people! If I’m honest, this response offended me a little.
Another reaction: "So what I'm hearing is that you do best with direct communication."
Well… yes, probably, but I guess that depends on how you mean that. It is entirely true that I think society would be better off if across the board we were more open communicators. On the other hand, it's not as though I'm sitting here quietly melting down with people who have more "traditional" communication styles. Okay, yeah, that entire last sentence was pretty much completely false; if I’m even remotely intellectually honest with myself, there’s a sense in which this entire essay is a meltdown against the traditional lack of communication I feel is endemic within society. But my communication style is actually communicating, yes. That is true.
But let me frame this all in another context - it’s not solely about dating or meeting new people.
Have you ever been told “We need to talk” by your partner in an existing relationship and had it not be a massively stressful anxiety-fest waiting to figure out if you were about to be broken up with, or divorced?
What about a similar situation - have you ever had a manager at work tell you "Hey, I need to talk to you, let's meet in my office this afternoon" without an identical oh shit reaction for the next few hours wondering if you were about to be fired?
My partner calls it radical communication, but this openness to using your words all comes down to one idea: I believe that "hey, I wanted to talk to you about something" should be a common occurrence, not something which instantly inspires anxiety. The need to talk is not necessarily a bad thing. In our relationship, in fact, it’s a good thing - usually along the lines of “hey, I wasn’t quite sure exactly what you meant by this thing you said earlier, so I just wanted to check in and get some clarification.” It’s a wonderful and reassuring feeling knowing that your partner is listening to you and giving genuine thought to what you’re saying, and cares enough about your opinions to expend the effort to be sure they understand you correctly.
In summary, the benefits of radically open communication seem to me to be clear and overwhelming: better relationships with better understanding of your partners, friends, and colleagues, and less fear. The costs seem nonexistent - you might possibly offend somebody who’s invested in communicating poorly? I’m not convinced that’s a cost at all.
There is no downside to using your words.