When Being Misunderstood Feels Worse Than Being Disliked

I think most of us can tolerate being disliked a little better than being misunderstood. If someone doesn't like you, at least you know where you stand, but being misunderstood can feel different.

Someone thinks you're angry when you're actually hurt.

They think you don't care when you've been trying very hard to care.

They think you're distant when you're overwhelmed.

They think you meant something you never intended to say.

And suddenly, you're not only dealing with whatever happened.

You're also trying to correct a version of yourself that exists in someone else's mind.

We want people to know what we meant

There's something deeply uncomfortable about being seen incorrectly by someone who matters to us.

We want to explain. We replay the conversation.

We think about what we should have said.

We send the longer message. We add the context.

We try again.

Not necessarily because we need them to agree with us, sometimes we just want them to understand what was happening on our side.

"That's not what I meant."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I wish you knew why I reacted that way."

There can be a lot of emotion sitting inside those sentences.

Sometimes we explain more than we need to

I've noticed how quickly the need to be understood can turn into over-explaining.

We give more context. Some more. And then some.

We clarify something that was already clear.

We start defending our intentions before anyone has actually asked us to.

And underneath all of it is often a very human hope:

If I explain it properly, they'll finally see me the way I see myself.

But sometimes they don't - and not because we explained badly, but because people understand us through their own experiences, assumptions, fears and expectations.

We don't get complete control over the version of us that exists in someone else's mind.

Being misunderstood doesn't always mean you've done something wrong

This is probably the hardest part.

Sometimes we assume that if someone has misunderstood us, then we must have failed to communicate.

And sometimes we have.

We're all capable of saying the wrong thing, reacting poorly, or hurting someone unintentionally.

But there are also moments when we've communicated as clearly as we could and someone has still understood us differently.

That's uncomfortable, but it isn't necessarily a problem that can be solved by finding the perfect explanation.

There are things we can't make someone see

I've been thinking about this more lately.

There are people who will understand us with very little explanation.

And there are people who may misunderstand us no matter how carefully we explain.

Sometimes they don't have the context. Sometimes they're seeing us through an old version of who we were.

Sometimes they're responding to something that has more to do with their own experience than ours.

And sometimes - we simply see the same situation differently.

That's difficult to accept when being understood matters deeply to you.

Maybe being understood isn't always the goal

I'm not sure we talk enough about the possibility that someone can misunderstand us and we can still be okay.

Not immediately. Not effortlessly. But eventually.

We can know what we meant.

We can take responsibility for what was ours.

We can clarify when clarification is useful.

And then, sometimes, we have to let the rest belong to the other person.

Because constantly trying to correct someone's perception of us can become exhausting.

And there's something freeing about realising that being understood by everyone isn't actually possible.

A little something

I think being misunderstood hurts most when we care deeply about the person doing the misunderstanding.

We want them to know our intentions.

Our reasons.

The parts of the story they can't see.

Sometimes they will. Sometimes they won't.

And perhaps growing up emotionally isn't about learning how to explain ourselves perfectly.

Maybe it's also learning that we can survive being misunderstood.

We can know ourselves even when someone else doesn't.

And sometimes, that's enough.