Pay Attention To Complaints: They Lead To Relationship Breakthroughs

Recently, I wrote about a surprising encounter I had with a man in a restaurant who I first assumed was "crazy" and then, after listening to him, discovered he wasn't crazy at all.

In response, I heard from a psychiatrist who is on my distribution list. Before you think that he was writing to tell me that I was the crazy one (perhaps he secretly was), this psychiatrist is my uncle and my story had reminded him of something he experienced early in his career.

I'm turning this issue over to that psychiatrist, Cliff Wilkerson, because I think there's a valuable lesson in what he experienced. I've bolded a few phrases that relate to a comment I'll make at the end.

Cliff wrote:

(Your story) reminds me of a child in a day school for the cognitively and emotionally impaired where I once consulted. He kept saying, "Matchbook" to his classmates and to his teacher who would respond, "You can't have a matchbook; matches are dangerous." She was growing impatient with the child  because he brought it up incessantly during the day, day after day. She was also frustrated that he sometimes became agitated when she would tell him about the danger of matches.

I found a matchbook and took it into class with me and, sure enough, the child came up to me and said, "Matchbook."

I took out the matchbook and the child's eyes lighted up as he held out his hand. The teacher looked on anxiously as the child took it from my hand. She firmly believed he would take out a match and strike it. Instead he pointed to the cover and said, "Mother."

"Mother?" I asked.

He nodded and handed the matches back to me. "Mother."

I told the teacher that I thought he was trying to tell her something about missing his mother when he said matchbook, that for some reason a matchbook was a transitional object for him. I suggested she give him an empty matchbook to carry in school and, when he mentioned matchbook, realize he was trying to communicate something about his need for his mother and that the matchbook would very likely quiet him.

She did as I suggested and the boy ceased his constant refrain, "Matchbook," except for times when he needed comfort from his teacher.

The end. Thanks for the contribution, Cliff.

Is there a "matchbook" in your life? Is there someone in your life who, like that child, talks about something "incessantly?" Like the teacher, do you get "frustrated" and try to make the complaint go away? After all, why pay attention to a complaining person when there are so many others who don't complain?

Consider that every complaint contains the seed of an unmet need. Like that child, perhaps the complaining person "was trying to communicate something about his need." Perhaps listening to the complaint will produce a breakthrough in the relationship that might not have occurred otherwise.

After all, a person who complains incessantly is like someone knocking on a door, trying to get the attention of those inside and who will keep knocking until the door is opened.

Perhaps it's time to open some doors.  

By the way, Cliff is also an author and has published a memoir called "Beautiful Brown Eyes and Other Stories" and will soon have a second book in circulation.