December 19
Knowing Where It Hurts
People who know each other well know which words will hurt. During an argument, a private fear or an old embarrassment can come to mind with terrible usefulness. We might say it because we feel cornered, then insist afterward that it was true. The accuracy of a remark does not settle the question of why we reached for it.
Closeness gives us knowledge that deserves care, especially when we disagree. We can speak firmly about what happened without using everything we know about the other person as ammunition. There are real issues that need an answer, and avoiding them will not make a relationship peaceful. Still, the particular pleasure of landing a painful sentence is worth bringing into inventory. A disagreement already asks two people to manage something difficult. We need not make their trust in having told us a vulnerable truth part of the cost.
What am I tempted to say because it will wound rather than help us understand the disagreement?
Some knowledge was entrusted to us for safekeeping.
For the A.A. nerds: Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, Step Twelve, pp. 115–116.