Today I am participating in #MondayMusings hosted by Everyday Gyann and the topic this Monday is “great conversations.”
I’ve always had problems with conversations. It’s not that I do not know how to converse with others. I am engaged and a great listener. I keep my mind focused on what people are saying, how they are saying things, their body language, and wait my turn to speak. I’ve always been good at this. It’s a gift, I suppose.
The problem arises when *I* have something to say. I’ve never had anyone who is as engaged with me as I am with others. I get interrupted mid-sentence. People don’t listen to what I am saying – their minds are thinking about their own response to what I am saying. And instead of getting words of wisdom from others, I get stories about their own tragic lives. This happened all through my childhood and into my adulthood – family, friends and partners alike. I used to get so tired of asking, “Are you even listening to me?” Finally, I just stopped asking.
As a result, I am normally a very quiet, private person. I don’t have long drawn-out conversations with people, I rarely talk on the phone, and I don’t seek out conversations. I stay mainly to myself. My journals have become my conversation pieces where I converse mostly with myself. It’s a lonely life, but I don’t mind being alone in this. It’s a safe place and refuge.
As the Fates Would Have It 