On Communication and Saying the Uncomfortable Thing
- Miranda Wylie
- Mar 15
- 5 min read
Why is it so hard to tell someone they have food stuck in their teeth? What is it about having to inform someone about something happening involuntarily in their mouth that feels so awkward? Do we not like the responsibility? Are we afraid of embarrassing the person? Or that they will be mad at us? Are we concerned about being rude and interrupting the conversation flow? The truth is letting someone know something that they may be unaware of like spinach caught in teeth is the opposite of being rude- it’s helpful.
When someone interrupts me, especially if I’m on a tear about something, to let me know I have food anywhere on my face or stuck in my teeth, I feel a huge sense of relief and trust. Honestly, it can be a bit of a litmus test, not that I have intentionally sip a latte to get milk foam on my nose and see how the person responds, but it’s not a bad idea. When someone stops to let me know something about my body that they are pretty sure I am unaware of like food in teeth, sunscreen on my face that didn’t get totally rubbed in, or goddess forbid, a booger, I feel gratitude, trust and intimacy build between us, even for just a moment. They did the hard thing—the thing that should be easy—but somehow speaking up is hard.
Recently a client told me that he has a hard time giving negative feedback at work. He actually framed all feedback as negative feedback. And this is what got me thinking about the spinach-in-the-teeth example.
“Feedback can be a way people grow and learn. Even what you may see as negative feedback,” I explained.
“It feels rude,” he said.
“Is it rude to let me know that food is stuck in my teeth, something that I can’t really control and is part of the risk of eating? What happens when you don’t speak up is that you are then in an internal dialogue and stress about speaking up or not. Hoping the mouth will just sort out the situation or I will ask or I will discover it. Meanwhile, something in your body language changes and I can track the difference and now I’m in my internal dialogue debating if you bored by what I’m talking about or if we are on a first date if you are even interested in me. Meanwhile, a crumb, a smear of ketchup, a shard of kale is center stage which are no attributes to my personality just something I have to contend with in the process of eating. It’s not personal but somehow it has become personal.”
He doesn’t have an answer.
The silence sits.
This is the pattern I see in so many clients. The inability to say the simple, awkward, true thing. And it shows up everywhere—at work, with friends, and especially in intimacy. If you can’t tell someone they have food in their teeth, something that in truth should be pretty easy, how will you be able to communicate about sex.
When I’m in sessions with the sexually inexperienced or the thrice married people, all of them say at some point, “This is a lot of communication.”
“Yes,” I reply.
“I didn’t think it was like this,” they say.
“You thought we would just know what to do?” I inquire.
“I mean, yeah, I guess,” they say.
My sexually inexperienced clients have a sense that everyone has this relationship and sex stuff figured out and they are just left behind. But truly they are not different from my clients in the 60s who have had all the sex. Both sets of people are learning how to communicate. Those who have never had sex are sometimes in a better place than those who have sex and have to reprogram how they sex. No matter the tally of people you’ve had sex with being a better lover can begin with, “Hey, just wanted to let you know there is food in your teeth.”
Feedback doesn’t have to be negative or grim or rude. In fact, feedback can be an opportunity for vulnerability and intimacy to blossom into laughter and play. One of the best responses I’ve heard to this comment about food being stuck in teeth was, “I’m gonna keep it there so you have to keep looking at me my messy mouth in awkwardness.” And then they flashed a big smile showing off green bits jammed between almost every tooth.
I have yet to work with a client who isn’t surprised at how much we talk through what we want, what we are going to do, how we felt about what happened. Clients will often be vague about describing things and then end with a “you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” I laugh, “I can guess. I can extrapolate. I can assume. But I don’t really know what this means for you.”
The “this” can be anything. To help them find words we create an experience in the body.
“How would you like me to touch your hand?” I ask.
They look confused, “I don’t know.”
“Hard or soft?” I ask.
“Soft.”
I give a compressive, squeezing massage type touch. The confused look on their face gets stronger. Rarely do they speak up. They wait.
“Was that what you meant by soft?” I ask.
“Um. No,” they stammer.
“What if that was how I define a soft touch?”
I see the gears spinning in their head. The face settles into an a-ha.
“This is a lot of communication!” they laugh.
“Yes,” I say.
This communication work builds over months. By the time we’re six months in, I’m no longer just instructing. A client can no longer rely on me to have a plan for the session. It’s the “partner” part of this work. I have been leading and they have followed. It’s their turn to lead. One way I love to see this come to fruition is in the “setting the scene” exercise.
My space is set in a universal way that I prefer and then slightly tweaked for each client as I get to know them – incense or not, pillows on the couch arranged based on our preference in seating, large or small water glass, tea kettle on or not, tissue box placed nearby from my teary-eyed or allergy prone folks, tarot cards to pull, things to fidget with, etc. When it’s time to ask them to lead I invite them to bring things to my space to set the scene. How might they set the scene for a date? Flowers? Chocolate? Music?
And so, while the session time begins at the same time the feel is a bit different. I let the client in and then I head for a 10 or 15 min walk. Then I’m the one knocking on the door and the client welcomes me into the space and the scene they created. It’s fun to see the enthusiastic look on their face as they welcome me in. They have the opportunity to delight me and experience what it is like to create the environment.
One client lays out a bunch of sex and sensory toys.
Read the rest of the story on Substack.
Or listen to me read the essay.
Let's say the uncomfortable things.
