The Art of Showing Up

by Rachel Wilkerson Miller

So often when a friend hurts or disappoints us, we convince ourselves that it’s better for everyone if we just swallow our feelings and say nothing—and then either slowly pull away from the person who hurt us, or harbor bitterness for years. But both of those options can seriously corrode a relationship; being honest is often the kindest course of action for both you and the other person.

  Think of an instance in which someone you care about confronted you about something you did that upset them, or told you honestly that they believed you were making a bad decision. Did it suck to hear that? Probably. Did you live? Probably!!!! Because you know what’s worse than someone you like and respect telling you that you messed up? Finding out that someone you like and respect secretly thought you were making a mess but was too chickenshit to tell you. Or having someone blow up at you—or ghost you—because of years of simmering resentment over grievances they didn’t have the nerve to tell you. Or feeling—rightfully!—like you can’t really trust your so-called people. That hurts way more than hearing kind, thoughtful, honest feedback from people who genuinely want the best for you and who want to maintain a close relationship with you.

  This is why I aim to practice radical candor with my people. Radical candor, the brainchild of Kim Scott (who worked at Google and has consulted for several other big tech companies), is direct communication that is rooted in caring personally. It’s mostly used as a framework for management/leadership, but I’ve found it even more useful in my personal relationships.

  Scott explains radical candor via a matrix. At the top is “care personally.” On the right side is “challenge directly.” In the four quadrants, moving clockwise from the far-left corner, you’ll find ruinous empathy, radical candor, obnoxious aggression, and manipulative insincerity.

  Ruinous empathy occurs when you care personally but refuse to challenge directly. It’s an unwillingness to be honest with people about what you think because you believe that your directness would hurt or embarrass them. In the context of friendships, it might look like responding to a friend’s “Do you think I was too drunk last night at Ari’s party?” text with “Definitely not! No one thought that!” . . . when in reality, everyone thought that, Ari is rightfully furious, and your friend is no longer going to be invited to the group’s hangouts.

  Obnoxious aggression happens when you challenge directly without caring personally. Using the same example, it might look like approaching the drunk pal—who you never really liked to begin with—during the party, and calling them out for their behavior in front of everyone in the meanest and most humiliating terms you can think of. Yes, there’s honesty, but it’s rooted in shame and blame instead of a genuine desire to see the person grow or change.

  Manipulative insincerity occurs when you neither care personally, nor challenge directly. Like ruinous empathy, it begins with an unwillingness to be honest with people about how you perceive a situation . . . but in this case, it’s rooted in a desire to be liked or to gain some kind of social advantage. In the context of friendships, it might be telling the person who was definitely too drunk at the party that it was perfectly fine—not because you don’t want to embarrass them, but because you’re really hoping to stay on their good side so they’ll invite you to their amazing beach house this summer. It might also look like telling them it was fine, but then talking shit about them to everyone else in the friend group for the next month.

  Radical candor happens when you are willing to speak honestly about how you perceive a situation because you care about the person and genuinely want the best for them. It’s saying, “Honestly, yeah—I think you had a few too many last night. I know Ari was pretty upset about your behavior, and to be honest, I don’t think they are wrong. You might want to think about apologizing to them, and also to Sasha, who you were pretty nasty to, and Quinn, who called you a cab because you couldn’t find your phone.”

  Radical candor might also look like adding, “Are you doing OK? I’ve noticed you’ve been drinking a lot since your breakup, and I’m worried about you.” It also could have been pulling your friend aside during the party and saying, “Hey, buddy, this behavior isn’t cool and I think you should call it a night. Let’s talk more about it tomorrow; here—I’ll call you a car home.”

  I love radical candor because it aligns so well with two of my core values: sincerity and compassion. It’s important to me that the people in my life know they can trust me—that my word is good, that I mean what I say. When I think about radical candor in relationships, the word that comes to mind is gentle. It’s not about being harsh or aggro to get through to people, or doing a big performative takedown. You don’t have to say, “Yeah, buddy, we’ve all watched you slide down this booze-filled slope since your breakup and it’s not cute.” You can simply say, “Honestly, I think you had too much to drink.” Radical candor is firm, but it’s quiet.

  It’s also possible to not care personally and not be candid and not necessarily be insincere or manipulative. Sometimes you’ve just gotta say “Yep” or “Mmhmm” for your own safety or sanity or because you’re dealing with a person who is what we might call “a handful” and you don’t care about them enough to be the one who tells them. In that case, try to disengage overall—because if they think you care a lot about them, they might view your silence as approval of their behavior.

  Radical candor can be difficult and feel incredibly uncomfortable, especially if you’ve been socialized to believe that your worth is dependent on your being likable. It also means you have to welcome radical candor when it’s directed at you—so, receiving feedback with grace, letting go of your defensiveness, swallowing your pride, and saying, “Thank you for being honest with me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” (A friend once said this to me after I was direct with her, and it made my heart swell up because I felt so seen and appreciated after having just done something rather stressful.)

  Practicing radical candor is one of the ways that showing up for others can really feel like work. It requires confidence and trust and genuine empathy. You have to set aside your own need to be comfortable and risk your likability for the benefit of someone else.

  How to Have a Difficult Conversation with a Friend

  One of my favorite bits of wisdom is “The only way out is through the door.” I think of it whenever I or someone I know is spending a lot of time and energy trying to think of a creative solution to handle a problem that can really only be solved one way: by having a straightforward conversation. I used to do this all the time, particularly with crushes. I actively avoided any conversations where I had to be vulnerable and share my true feelings and needs. I was so afraid of being rejected and feeling bad that I spent a ton of energy trying to find an alternative exit. I tried every option and made every excuse for why I couldn’t possibly just walk through the damn door. And, unsurprisingly, this never worked out too well. It never got me what I wanted. More important: This behavior didn’t protect me. I still got hurt; all I was really doing was delaying the inevitable, and/or making things worse. Over time, I started facing difficult conversations with more courage, and I learned that it often sucked but was also fine.

  I’d be lying if I said that I now enjoy having conversations about my needs, or that I like being vulnerable. I’m still not a fan of conflict or confrontations. But now at least I know I won’t die. And I also know that these interactions—like everything else—get easier with practice. Sometimes, the only way to deal with a situation is to have an honest conversation. Sometimes, the only way out is through the door.

  Do You Really have to Have This Conversation?

  If you’re conflict averse, you may be tempted to cut and run the second anyone does something that bothers you. Perhaps you’ll tell yourself that the person isn’t going to change their ways, or that this friendship isn’t that important to you anyway. “Friends: who needs ’em?!” you say. And the answer is: you! You need friends! We all do! You don’t need to be friends with everyone, and yes, it’s good to recognize w
hen people are toxic and aren’t going to change, but so often, we use this as an excuse to get out of doing the hard work of showing up.

  If you’re never willing to have difficult conversations with people, you’re never going to be able to have authentic, meaningful relationships. Most of us recognize that vulnerability is necessary for true intimacy, but for some reason we don’t view being honest as a way of being vulnerable. But of course admitting you have a need is a form of vulnerability.

  A difficult conversation makes space for trust—trust that you can be honest with each other about how you’re feeling, trust that you can survive a tough talk and remain friends, trust that you both genuinely want the relationship to work and continue.

  Some Common Scenarios That Might Call for a Conversation

  The person . . .

  borrowed something of yours and still hasn’t returned it.

  owes you money and you’d like your money back.

  keeps flaking on you.

  said something kind of mean/nasty about you (to your face or to someone else).

  is making a mess in your space or in a shared space.

  violated (or is attempting to violate) a boundary of yours.

  said something hurtful and offensive about a particular group of people.

  You . . .

  think you hurt or upset someone

  know you hurt or upset someone.

  Responding in the Moment

  In many instances, the best option is just to respond to a shitty or hurtful comment when it happens. But so often, we don’t know what to say. Here are a few responses to keep in your back pocket for those moments.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  I like this as a response to snide, snarky, or sarcastic comments that could be construed as a joke. It’s not a bad idea to get clarity—because there is a real chance you misheard them or misunderstood their tone, and that is good to know.

  “Wow, that’s a really [rude/unkind/mean/thoughtless/hurtful] thing to say to me.”

  Straightforward and sans equivocation.

  “Oh, actually, I don’t think Casey would be OK with [you sharing this/us talking about this].”

  You can interject with this if people are gossiping or sharing someone else’s personal business and you aren’t comfortable with it. And if they are attempting to get you to shit-talk a mutual friend, you could say something like, “Oh, I really like Casey,” and even add “so let’s change the subject.”

  “Ouch.”

  I like this response because it’s really unambiguous. It’s also short, which comes in handy when you’re too hurt or shocked to articulate yourself well. “Ouch” is the conversational equivalent of a referee blowing a whistle; it’s a little blast to indicate that everyone needs to pause for a second to address what just happened.

  “Ouch” is also great if the person didn’t say something nasty about you but to or about another person who is present. In that instance, “ouch” communicates “You crossed a line and I’m not OK with it”—which the person the comment was directed at will likely appreciate.

  “Uhhhhh, YES offense???!!!”

  Use this one when someone tacks “no offense!” onto the end of an extremely offensive statement.

  “I don’t think that’s funny” or “I don’t like those kinds of jokes.”

  I have very little patience for people who say shitty things and then claim they were kidding, or insist that you need to lighten up. That sort of behavior can be really hard to call out; the person is counting on the fact that you’d rather let them act like an ass than be seen as “crazy” or “uptight.” But . . . whatever! If people think I’m uptight or sensitive because I expect my so-called friends to be respectful and kind toward others, that’s actually fine with me.

  And remember: Body language really matters! Sometimes the best way to communicate hurt or offense is to furrow your brows and let your mouth and tone go flat. There’s nothing like a visible frown to say, “Wow, dick move.”

  Talking to Someone after the Fact

  Most difficult conversations don’t happen the second someone messes up; they happen later, once the aggrieved or hurt person has had time to process what they’re upset about and plan what they want to say. And this isn’t necessarily a bad thing! (As therapist Ryan Howes said to me, “Strike when the iron is cold”—i.e., sometimes, it’s best to deal with something when it’s not actually happening.) If you’ve found yourself in a situation where you realize later, Oh, that was deeply not OK and I need to say something, here are two tips to keep in mind.

  Before you confront them, reflect on what you could have done differently. Should you have spoken up sooner? Communicated your needs better? While the list might be short, going through this exercise can dampen any self-righteousness and help you approach them from a more open and curious place.

  Figure out what you need from this person to right the situation. Do you just want to be heard? Do you want an apology? Do you hope they’ll take some kind of action (e.g., pay for the cost of your movie ticket after they bailed at the last minute)? Celeste Headlee says that this step is “the equivalent of walking into a grocery store with a list instead of browsing through the aisles; you’re much more likely to get what you want and leave feeling satisfied.”

  Addressing the Problem

  In some instances, the way you broach the subject can be very straightforward. For example, “Hey, friend, I just realized it’s been three months since I loaned you my red top; could I get it back from you tonight? I’d like to wear it this weekend.” Or even, “Hey, after you returned my red top last night, I realized it had a huge stain on it that wasn’t there before. The dry cleaner said it’s not possible to get the stain out, so could you cover the cost of replacing it?”

  If you’re tempted to overthink this sort of low-stakes “confrontational” message, I get it, but it’s just not that deep! There’s no need to add, “I think you’re a really good person so please don’t take this the wrong way; I wasn’t sure if I should even bring this up.” Just focus on remedying the immediate problem. Keep it matter-of-fact and neutral, and they’ll likely respond similarly. (And if they don’t, that’s a Them Problem.)

  When you’re communicating more serious behavior to a friend, you’ll probably want to give it extra care. In that case, here are a few tips to keep in mind.

  Separate what they did from who they are.

  Harriet Lerner, a therapist and the author of Why Won’t You Apologize?, says if you’re genuinely seeking an apology or a reconciliation, it’s worth remembering that people will shut down if they feel their entire sense of self is on the line. (And the greater the offense, the likelier that is the case.) If you can avoid labeling and shaming them as a person and instead focus on their behavior, you create more space for them to reflect and apologize.43

  Believe me: I know how frustrating it is to have to think about the offender’s feelings when you’re hurt or angry. But this doesn’t mean you can’t express your pain, anger, or exasperation. It just means that if you want the person to truly hear you and to apologize or change their ways, you should try to avoid name-calling or going in hard on their very being.

  Name the behavior.

  There is power and practicality in clearly stating what, specifically, you’re upset about. So, say “When you said ‘all cat owners are slobs’” or “When you groped me” instead of “Your comments . . .” or “Your actions . . .” Even though using euphemisms might feel more “polite” or make you feel less vulnerable in the moment, directness matters in the long run, particularly if the behavior was really egregious. This can mean moving away from the oft-recommended “I” statements—but sometimes it’s appropriate to say “That comment was mean and uncalled for” instead of “I just really felt like that comment was mean and uncalled for.”

  State the consequences of the behavior.

  This could be something like “Your comment made me, a cat owner, feel terrible”
or “What should have been a fun day was ruined.” I recommend doing this because it can be very easy to assume that their action was so obviously bad, they’ll immediately understand how you’re feeling or why it was a problem as soon as you name it. But that’s not always the case! So tell them in plain terms what resulted.

  Consider sharing the consequences of their not apologizing/changing/remedying the behavior.

  Again, that outcome may feel fairly obvious to you, but it might not be to them! So you might add something like, “I have to be honest: This is making me not want to hang out as much.” The goal is to communicate “This is a serious problem, so please treat it as such.”

  Whatever you say, keep it short.

  Harriet Lerner says that when we’re seeking an apology, most of us tend to go into great detail about the reasons we’re angry and upset. This feels satisfying, but it doesn’t help us resolve the situation or get through to the other person. “People take in very little information when they don’t want to hear what you’re saying,” Lerner says. “If your intention is to be heard and to make room for a sincere apology and behavioral change, opt for brevity. This is especially challenging if your automatic tendency is to say too much.” Do everyone a favor and keep it brief.

  Stay curious.

  Even if you’re 99 percent sure this person definitely fucked up, there’s a pretty good chance they didn’t think they were fucking up. So instead of bulldozing them with declarations about their intentions or character, say your piece and then let them speak. Listen to their explanations with an open mind, and be willing to admit it if you’re a little less right than you thought you were. It’s not always easy to do, but I’ve found that keeping “Stay curious” in mind during difficult conversations makes me softer, gentler, and kinder and really doesn’t detract from my ability to communicate that I’m upset or unhappy.

  “You Fucked Up” Mad Libs®

  So often, we don’t say anything when someone is acting up—or we talk about it in vague terms—because we simply don’t know what to say. But naming bad behavior is really important, so it’s helpful to develop a vocabulary for it.