Missing the Mark...
- Ryan Burbank
- Jul 6, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: Aug 12, 2024
There’s something unsettling about well-meaning gestures that miss the mark—those actions meant to show care but end up leaving me feeling misunderstood and alone. It’s not about assigning blame; it’s about reconciling the gap between intention and impact. For me, that gap can be painfully wide. I’ve spent a lot of time peeling back the layers, trying to understand why behaviors that might seem affectionate or normal to others often feel intrusive or overwhelming.
Take surprises. Most people associate surprises with joy and excitement. But for me, surprises can feel like an emotional ambush. The sudden shift from a known routine to an unknown scenario is disorienting at best, deeply unsettling at worst. That surprise party meant as a grand gesture of affection? It’s more likely to feel like a sensory assault than a celebration. I appreciate the thought, but the execution—the suddenness—can feel like too much, too fast.
And then there’s the playful stuff: tickling, teasing, roughhousing. These are supposed to be fun, affectionate ways to connect. But for me, they often trigger sensory overload or emotional distress. What’s meant to be bonding can feel more like a loss of control, where the need to escape overwhelms any sense of joy.
Unannounced visits or calls? Those are disruptions that can throw off my entire day. Routines aren’t just preferences; they’re how I keep the world from spinning out of control. It’s not that I don’t want to connect—I do—but the suddenness can be jarring, leaving me scrambling to regain my balance.
Even comforting gestures can backfire. When I’m distressed, physical comfort—a hug, a touch, even a barrage of concerned questions—can feel suffocating. What I really need is space, time to process, to find my equilibrium.
Solitude becomes the most comforting thing, not because I don’t appreciate the care, but because it’s the only thing that truly helps me feel okay again.
Then there’s the sting of being told, “You’re fine,” when I’m trying to express discomfort or share my experience. It feels like a denial of my reality, a dismissal of what I’m going through. The intention might be to reassure, but the impact is the opposite. It leaves me feeling more isolated, more alone in my struggle.
Misguided help can also miss the mark. Offering assistance where it’s not needed or wanted, while overlooking what really matters, only amplifies the sense of being misunderstood. It’s frustrating, feeling like my real needs are invisible behind assumptions of what I should need.
Clear, direct communication is crucial for me. Indirect hints or veiled requests often leave me confused. It’s not about lacking social grace—I just need clarity. Subtle cues might be well-intended, but if they aren’t clear, they leave me guessing, and that’s not a place I want to be.
Even something as simple as gift-giving can go wrong. A gift that doesn’t align with my sensory preferences—uncomfortable clothing, strong-smelling lotions—serves as a reminder that I’m not fully understood. It’s a small thing, but it highlights that gap between intention and understanding.
Then there’s the idea that I’d be more likable if I were less myself. It’s a subtle message that who I am isn’t enough, that I need to conform to norms that don’t fit me. It’s not just hurtful; it’s damaging. It suggests that acceptance is conditional, based on how well I can hide or suppress parts of myself that don’t align with others’ expectations.
Figuring out how to respectfully set personal boundaries when faced with some of these well-meaning but misguided gestures has been a lifelong challenge. It’s a constant balancing act—trying to appreciate the intention while managing the impact. I’ve learned that understanding these nuances is crucial, not just for me, but for anyone trying to build meaningful, respectful relationships. It’s about creating an environment where where respect isn’t contingent on conformity and understanding takes precedence over assumption.
Key Takeaways:
Surprises Can Be Overwhelming: Surprises can feel like a sensory assault and lead to stress.
Playful Interactions Can Trigger Overload: Tickling, teasing, and roughhousing might be intended as affectionate but can become overwhelming.
Routine is a Lifeline: Unexpected disruptions, like unannounced visits or calls, can throw off an entire day’s balance.
Comforting Gestures Can Backfire: Physical comfort might feel suffocating; solitude is often more comforting.
Invalidation is Hurtful: Dismissing discomfort with phrases like “You’re fine” can invalidate experiences and deepen feelings of isolation.
Clear Communication is Essential: Direct communication avoids confusion and ensures mutual understanding.
Gift-Giving Can Highlight Disconnect: Gifts that don’t align with sensory preferences can be reminders of being misunderstood.
Respect Individual Preferences: Forcing fun or likability standards can lead to discomfort and alienation.
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