I Meant Well. My Mouth Had Other Plans.

Soft watercolor of two empty chairs beside a sunlit window, with a plant and a small table.

Honestly,

I like helping people. I am less comfortable with the part where I cannot make something better.

Especially when there is a silence involved.

Apparently, my mouth considers that an opening.

Earlier in my career, I had to tell someone their employment was ending. They didn’t have a ride home, so afterward, I drove them.

I was friendly with this person. I cared about them. And I had absolutely no idea what to say as they got out of the car.

Apparently, my mouth decided we should make lunch plans.

“Maybe we could get together for lunch sometime?”

Their response brought me right back to the situation: lunch, with no job and no money?

Ugh.

I was trying to offer kindness. But I had reached for something that might make me feel less awkward without thinking about how it would land for them.

Someone else’s hard moment did not need a cheerful ending for my benefit. It needed room to be hard.

There are moments when what I want to offer and what someone needs are two different things. An invitation might feel reassuring to me. To someone dealing with something difficult, it might feel like I have skipped several important pages.

Including the page they are still on.

I don’t think the answer is to care less. I think it is to stop making my own discomfort the thing that needs fixing first.

Someone else’s hard moment does not need to end with me feeling that I said something lovely.

Sometimes I can offer practical help. Sometimes I can acknowledge that something is hard. And sometimes I can stop talking before I add a social engagement to an already complicated afternoon.

I’m working on that last one.

Reflections

  1. When a conversation feels uncomfortable, do you listen—or hurry to give it a happier ending?
  2. Are you responding to what the other person needs, or to how you wish the moment felt?
  3. What could you leave unsaid and still be kind?

Toolbox: You don’t have to fix the silence

  1. Pause before adding more. Give the person time to respond. A quiet moment does not automatically need another sentence.
  2. Acknowledge without polishing. “I know this is a lot to take in” leaves more room than insisting things will work out. You do not have to promise an outcome you cannot know.
  3. Ask about practical needs. Where appropriate, ask what needs to be clarified about the next step. Offer only the support you can actually provide, within your role and your organization’s process.
  4. Let the ending be simple. You can be respectful without making the moment cheerful. If your words land badly, acknowledge it rather than explaining how well you meant them.
  5. Check before offering. “Would it help if I listened, or is there something practical you need?” gives the other person room to say what would help. They do not have to accept an offer just because you meant it kindly.

There’s always more to share. Come back for tools, stories, and honest reflections on working life. No need to fill the silence. I’ve clearly got that covered.

Colleen, handwritten signature with connected heart

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