Say What You Mean: Opinion, Evaluation, and Other Impossibilities.

Say What You Mean: Opinion, Evaluation, and Other Impossibilities.



"Just because we can't say something, doesn't mean we're not feeling it" Somebody from Grey's Anatomy!

I've been watching a lot of Grey's Anatomy recently. I'd forgotten how much I loved it. I'd also forgotten how eloquent all the characters are. They seem to have super powers of speech bestowed on them and everything they say sounds like a quote that should grace the pages of Pinterest surrounded by pictures of shiny things. Even when they're flailing in a 'McDreamy loves his wife, not me' kind of a way, they still do it with grace and poise.

How is this possible? I know it's written for them and the (mega talented) script writers have spent ages deliberating over the words. These aren't real, off the cuff, conversations, because if they were I'd just want to curl up in a ball and sob over my lack of ability to speak like that. But when they're saying it, it all sounds so real. I'll stop gushing now, but it just got me thinking about how hard it is to say what we're actually thinking, instead of a garbled version of events going on in our head that usually ends up nothing like how we imagined…or is that (again) just me?

How can we say what we mean?

Purely by accident, the main character in my book ends up helping people who can't quite say what they really want to. She writes a Dear John letter for a man who can't work out how to put the words together in a way that sounds meaningful and kind. Yet, she finds it difficult herself to say what she really wants to. Almost as if writing it for someone else gives her the freedom to be truthful, as it's not her truth. And having someone else speak your truth gives you the freedom to say it, because you're not the one delivering it. Maybe it's a case of not wanting to hurt, or be embarrassed, or having the courage to own our feelings. I don't know!

A couple of my blog posts recently have skirted around an idea that I had in my head but couldn't quite elucidate. It was only after I had written what I had written that the actual point I was trying to make became clear in my head. Then I went back and wrote what I meant to in the first place.

Why is it so difficult to say the truth sometimes?

It's ok when it's written, we have delete keys and reposts, but when it's a conversation we can't rewind and unsay. I'm sure most of us have had our cringy 'I carried a watermelon' moments, in a way these are what make us human. I'm wondering more about the bigger things, the ideas that are floating there just beyond reach; like dreams that flit away the more they're thought about.

Who knows, maybe I just need to work on my vocabulary. Or, perhaps, again, it's a confidence thing. But for the time being, I'm going to watch more Grey's Anatomy and pretend that's how cool I am!!

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