The Stories We Invent About Other People

I came across Joshua Fields Millburn’s short piece,  ⁠Offense Taken, and one idea in it stayed with me.

Someone does something. Then, almost instantly, we decide why they did it.

A short reply becomes dismissive. Someone interrupts because they don’t respect us. A disagreement becomes a judgement of our character.

The event itself may be real.

The intention we’ve attached to it often isn’t.

The Mind Excels at Filling in the Blanks

I recognise this in myself.

When something upsets me, there’s often a surprisingly short distance between what actually happened and the explanation I’ve constructed for it.

They ignored me.

They don’t respect me.

They knew that would upset me.

The problem is that only the first statement might be an observation. The others require me to know what’s happening inside someone else’s head.

And I’m generally not qualified for that job.

Millburn puts it particularly well when he realises that he wasn’t reacting only to another person’s behaviour; he was reacting to the story he’d created around it.  

That distinction sounds obvious when written down.

It’s considerably harder to remember when you’re angry.

There Is a Gap Before the Reaction

None of this means that hurtful behaviour should simply be excused.

People can be inconsiderate. They can disrespect us. Sometimes our interpretation is completely correct.

But there’s still value in separating:

What happened?

from:

What have I decided it means?

I’ve found that the second question creates a useful bit of space.

Maybe the terse message wasn’t dismissive. Maybe someone was distracted. Maybe the interruption wasn’t deliberate. Maybe disagreement isn’t hostility.

Or perhaps they really were being an arse.

The point isn’t to always assume the best of everyone.

It’s to recognise when I’m treating an assumption as a fact.

And sometimes, removing that assumption also removes much of the offence.