I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking I was a good communicator. I speak clearly. I’m smart. I give advice. People come to me because I’m direct and usually know what to say. But lately, I’m starting to realize that being a “good talker” isn’t the same as being a good listener. And right now, that’s the skill I’m learning - slowly, awkwardly, and sometimes reluctantly.

It’s called Active Listening, and it’s way harder than it sounds.

At first, I thought it just meant “don’t interrupt.” Easy, right? Just shut up while the other person talks. But that’s not what it really is. Not even close.

🌀 Active listening is emotional work. It’s resisting the urge to react, fix, defend, or turn the conversation back toward myself. It’s holding space for someone else’s truth - even if I don’t like how it makes me feel. It’s quieting the noise in my own head so I can actually hear the full message in theirs.

And that’s uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable.

Because I’ve been conditioned - maybe even trained - to value action over silence. Efficiency over exploration. Solutions over feelings. If someone’s upset, I want to help. If someone’s confused, I want to explain. If there’s tension, I want to resolve it. I don’t like things hanging in the air unresolved. I don’t like not knowing what to say next.

💭 But I’m learning that people don’t always need resolution.
Sometimes they just need resonance.
Not “fix me,” but “feel this with me.”
Not “make it better,” but “see me, as I am, right now.”

And the truth is, I’ve probably been pretty bad at that over the years.

There are probably more moments than I care to count where I made someone feel unheard - not because I didn’t care, but because I was too busy responding instead of receiving. I thought I was helping when I was really just redirecting the spotlight back onto myself.

This realization isn’t comfortable. In fact, it’s kind of painful.
But it also feels honest. And honesty is a start.

I’m not trying to tear myself down - just trying to see the patterns that haven’t served me or the people around me. I’ve been told I dominate conversations. I’ve been told I listen like I’m waiting to win a debate. I’ve been told I offer too much advice and not enough presence.

And now, I’m starting to see what they meant.

🌀 I’ve started practicing small changes. When someone is talking, I don’t plan my reply while they’re speaking. I notice if I’m feeling defensive, and instead of acting on it, I name it silently in my head. I pause before responding. Sometimes I say, “I hear you,” or “That makes sense,” even if I don’t fully agree - because the goal isn’t to win, it’s to connect.

Sometimes, I still mess it up.
Sometimes I interrupt without realizing it.
Sometimes I give a response when silence would have been better.
But sometimes - more and more lately - I get it right.

And the difference is obvious.

When I really listen, the people around me soften. The energy shifts. They lean in. They say more. They trust me more. And when that happens, I don’t just feel like a better listener - I feel like a better human.

This shift is affecting everything. My friendships. My marriage. Even how I talk to myself. I’m learning to listen to my own discomfort without judging it. To ask myself why I want to fix something so fast. To give space to feelings I’d usually push away.

💭 I used to think listening was about taking in information.
Now I think it’s about giving someone the experience of being safe.

That changes everything.

I still don’t love how slow this process feels. I still wish I could just “get it” and be done. But growth doesn’t work like that - and neither does trust. It’s built one moment at a time, one pause at a time, one choice at a time to stay open when my old patterns would shut things down.

So yeah. I’m learning to listen. And it’s teaching me more than I expected.
Not just how to hear others.
But how to see them.