Be Assertive. Speak Up For Yourself When With A Difficult Person. As Soon As You Recognize There is No Self

Handling a conflict with a difficult person basically requires two activities:

1. Listening for what the other person needs.
2. Assertively speaking up for what you need.

However, you may find yourself, when dealing with difficult people, fearful of speaking your mind. You may walk away from an interaction wishing you hadn't held back from saying what you really need.

You can be assertive and stand up for yourself just as soon as you recognize that there's no such thing as yourself.

Let me explain this seeming paradox by first having you do something.

Write down three words that:

1. A person you think of as difficult to get along with might use to describe you.
2. Your mother might use to describe you.
3. You would use to describe you.

Doing this exercise should convince you that there's no such thing as "yourself." Confused? Let me explain.

Take a look at your lists. Who's right about you? Who has described you most accurately?

Obviously, all descriptions are accurate, from the point of view of the person doing the describing, including you about yourself.

If there were actually something that might be described as "yourself," then that would be the truth about you and everyone would describe you (including yourself) in that way every time.

But that's obviously not what happens. Depending on the circumstance, time of day, mood, and many other variables, descriptions we have of ourselves and others have of us will change, sometimes from moment to moment and person to person as you undoubtedly saw when describing yourself from the point of view of the three people in the exercise.

For example, I'll bet, when you described yourself, you didn't write "poopy face." Yet, when you were five years old, another five year old might very well have described you that way and you would have cried because you would have believed that child, even though you would have had no idea what a "poopy face" was. Just the way it was said would have upset you. In fact, if you had the words then, you might have described that child as difficult to get along with. Today, you would laugh. Why? Because there's no way you'd believe that description of yourself. Dealing with that "difficult" child wouldn't be difficult at all.

But today we do believe descriptions of ourselves that have no more validity than poopy face. The words we use to describe ourselves form our identity. They describe who we believe ourselves to be. They become "ourself." But they are not "ourself" any more than poopy face is.

"Ourselves" are inventions that we create moment to moment. We make it up. We are continually playing a game of "let's pretend" only we forget that we made up the game. The point of view we have about ourselves holds no more validity than "poopy face" did when we were five.

The problem is that we get stuck with certain parts of our invention and we call that "ourselves." We get stuck being people who "just aren't assertive," or "are shy" or "not good enough" or "not smart enough," "not talented enough," or...fill in your own blank as you did in the exercise above.

By the way: This applies to "good" descriptions as well as "bad" ones. "Courageous" is every bit an invention as "frightened" (and I'm not talking about real fears like lions and tigers and bears. I'm talking about imaginary fears of people who are bigger than us, talk more loudly, who make unreasonable demands or are generally difficult to get along with).

It just depends on what we choose to believe. "Poopy face" or "Handsome/beautiful?" Take your pick. Literally. We get to choose.

Now when you start making these different choices to be assertive and stand up for yourself with people who are difficult to get along with, that old identity of yours will scream at you, "That's not who you are" and, if you listen and respond to that scream, you'll stay stuck.

So when you hear that voice, I suggest you do what I do: Imagine that voice is an alien presence that has latched on to your face. Pretend you are tearing that alien off your face and say to that alien, "Thank you for sharing, but I'm committed to being" (whatever you choose to be). Then throw that alien voice in the garbage can. Go ahead. No one is looking. Make a gesture to throw that alien away.

I know this sounds silly but I can't tell you the number of alien voices I've jettisoned. There's something about physically throwing the alien voice away that is incredibly freeing.

If you're with a difficult person, find yourself holding back but, obviously, can't physically throw that voice away without embarrassing yourself, imagine in your mind throwing the alien away and then be what you choose.

You can, you know. Just as soon as you recognize there's no such thing as "yourself."

If you have any questions, comments or concerns about any part of this, please write me at ljbarkan@thepivotalfactor.com. I'll be happy to respond.

Handling Difficult People? Muhammad Ali Really Is "The Greatest"

You want to know how to handle difficult people? You can do no better than use Muhammad Ali as your role model.

I could draw no other conclusion as I watched the HBO "true to life" show, "Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight" as well as a PBS "Independent Lens" film called "The Trials of Muhammad Ali." The latter is a documentary while the former is a fictionalized version of actual events interspersed with interviews with the real Muhammad Ali and other contemporary figures.

"Muhammed Ali's Greatest Fight" opens in 1967 when Ali has joined the Nation of Islam and has refused induction into the armed forces on the grounds of being a conscientious objector to the war in Vietnam. The nation was bitterly divided about that war and Ali became the lightning rod for all sides in the debate.

Ali was stripped of his world heavyweight champion boxing title and didn't fight again for four years while the case wound it's way through the courts and, ultimately, was decided in Ali's favor by the Supreme Court in 1971.

Think about that for a moment. As a matter of conscience, Ali gave up millions of dollars he would have earned in the ring. He had devoted his entire life to one thing: Being the heavyweight champion of the world and he had no way of knowing if he would ever fight again.

Whether Ali is the greatest boxer who ever lived is an ongoing debate. In my mind, what really makes Ali "The Greatest," (as he proclaimed about himself) is his temperament during this time. Not once was he seen exploding in rage. At one point, David Susskind, a well known television producer and talk show host at the time said about Ali as Ali sat there silently listening, "He's a disgrace to his country, his race and what he laughingly describes as his profession...He's a simplistic fool and a pawn." (Susskind also predicted Ali would go to jail proving just how wrong Susskind was on all counts.)   

At the end of "Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight," there is an interview with Ali in which he is asked why he never showed resentment towards those who had stripped him of his title and questioned the veracity of his belief about being a conscientious objector to the war.

Ali's response demonstrates why he is "The Greatest" and we are mere mortals. Ali says, "I'd be a hypocrite if I (showed resentment) because they did what they thought was right...For me to condemn them, when I was also doing what I thought was right, would be hypocritical."

Wow! Talk about getting up off the floor and not coming up swinging. Ali is a role model for those of us who struggle with our desire to lash out when we are attacked, knowing that doing so would only bring an unending series of attacks and counterattacks.

In 2005, Muhammad Ali received the Presidential Medal of Freedom. George W. Bush, when presenting the medal, called Ali "a man of peace."

Well deserved.

"High Fidelity:" The Secret To A Lasting Relationship, Guaranteed

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I've been married for 41 years. People sometimes ask for the secret to ensure a lasting relationship. I tell them to watch the movie, "High Fidelity." The answers are in that movie.

It may seem more than a little strange to suggest "High Fidelity" as a template for having a lasting relationship given that the protagonist, Rob (John Cusack), is not able to sustain a relationship for longer than a few months. But by the time the movie has ended, we have learned, along with Rob, the secret to creating a relationship that lasts.

Near the end of the movie, Rob invites Laura to meet him at a restaurant. Laura had dumped Rob early in the movie and he has spent the rest of the movie reviewing his past relationships to see why he has been unable to sustain any of them.

Shortly after Laura sits down, Rob asks Laura to marry him. She is startled to say the least, especially since she has recently seen him flirting with a woman he has just met. She asks his reasons for wanting to get married. Rob now reveals to Laura and to all of us how to sustain a relationship:  

"That other girl...woman...whatever. I was thinking they're just fantasies. And they always seem really great because there's never any problems. If there are, they're cute problems like we bought each other the same Christmas present or she wants to go see a movie I've already seen. And then I come home and you and I have real problems and you don't want to see the movie I want to see period. I'm tired of the fantasy because it doesn't really exist."

In other words, the grass always appears greener on the other side until we realize that the grass on the other side needs the hard work of mowing, just like the grass on this side.

Relationships are most vulnerable when we pine for the grass on the other side of the fence. We imagine we'll be much happier with the attractive woman/man at work, at the gym, standing in line in front of us buying coffee because, we're sure, the problems we'll have with that person will be "cute" problems and not "real" problems. We're tired of real problems and long for the cute ones.

Rob's plaintive statement that "...the fantasy doesn't really exist" is a brilliant insight. Fantasies don't exist in reality. In reality, there are real problems that require real work and a real commitment. 

So, in a nutshell, what's the secret to a lasting relationship? Stop mistaking fantasy for reality. After all, the person you're currently in a real relationship with and with whom you are having real problems, was at one time the fantasy person with whom, you imagined, you would share only cute problems. Fantasies are exciting precisely because they are fantasies. Keep them there.

Get to work on your real relationship and you'll be in that relationship for a long time.

A Story Book Romance Requires Accepting Another's Story

In "Being Wrong," a book about how difficult it can be to admit errors in judgment or belief or perception, the author Kathryn Schulz interviews Raoul Felder, a divorce attorney with a roster of wealthy clients some famous, some not.

Felder notes that during his first meeting with a client he/she invariably tells Felder that he is about to hear a story of marital discord the likes of which Felder has never heard before. Felder nods sympathetically, even as he is thinking that he has heard it all before many, many times.

According to Felder, the story invariably goes something like this: I wish that my (husband/wife) would realize that there are two sides to every story. But because he/she refuses to see that there are two sides to every story, I have to end the relationship.

Of course, as Kathryn Schulz notes, what's left unsaid but implied in this rant is the assertion, "then he/she would realize that I'm right."

Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, Clinical Professor of Family and Community Medicine at University of California, San Francisco School of Medicine, writes about a woman she knows who, in a few hours, can have people with diametrically opposing positions work together as colleagues. When Dr. Remen asked this woman how she achieves this extraordinary accomplishment, the woman responded, “Simple. You just change the story they are holding about themselves and each other.” (check out Dr. Remen's complete article here)

Consider a relationship you have that is going well or one that is not. Why is that relationship going well or poorly? Your answer to that question is the story you tell and it's the story that determines the quality of that relationship.

For example:

Is your boss unreasonable in his demands (your story), or interested in excellence (his story)?         

Does a friend avoid giving you her opinion because she doesn't care (your story), or because she's concerned about hurting your feelings (her story)?

        

Did your spouse not pick up the dry cleaning because he is getting back at you for something (your story), or did he legitimately forget (his story)?

Does your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife still communicate with someone from a former relationship because he/she simply wants to remain on good terms (his/her story) or because he/she is not fully committed to you (your story)?  

        

Sometimes there are two sides to a story and sometimes there aren't but there are definitely always two stories. A storybook romance or any great relationship requires the acceptance of the other's story.

"I Didn't Think Of It"

Consider this scenario: You are seated across from a person who is holding a tennis ball. Your assignment (and I ask you to accept it) is to get that tennis ball from the other person. How do you do it?

The people to whom I asked this question had one of three suggestions.

11.   Offer something to the person in exchange for the tennis ball. For example, "I'll give you a cookie if you give me the tennis ball."

22.   Ask for the ball and give a reason for asking. For example, "Will you please give me the tennis ball? My dog is a Golden Retriever and it's a fun way for me to exercise him."

33.   Look as needy as possible and ask, without providing a reason, "Will you give me the tennis ball?"

A University of Chicago sociologist used this very scenario. You may know that Chicago has recently experienced a spate of gang related murders and the sociologist was trying to determine why this might be so and what to do about it. I recently heard the results of his experiment on National Public Radio.

The sociologist brought in pairs of young people, not necessarily gang members, who lived in the areas of the city where most of the gang related violence was occurring. He paired them up and gave one person a tennis ball and directed the other to get the ball away from that person.

In every case (and I don't recall how many people were put through this exercise), the person wanting the ball tried to wrest it away from the other through some sort of intimidation such as, "If you don't give me the ball, I'll take it from you."

After a few minutes, the experiment was stopped and the person whose job it was to get the ball was asked why he (the study was all males) didn't simply ask for the ball or use one of the other strategies suggested by the people I queried.

In every case...in every case...the response was basically, "I didn't think of it." 

Now before we judge these young people, consider that their response ("I didn't think of it") is not much different from any of us who are living with unresolved conflicts. We are all the victims (and beneficiaries) of our past. Our approach to handling conflict is based on that past. Whatever worked for us in the past is likely to be our modus operandi in the future. And when that modus operandi doesn't work, we tend to give up or blame the other person.

That's why, when you are frustrated by a conflict, get help from someone you trust. Stop asking yourself what to do because asking yourself for suggestions will only yield what you've already thought of. What you're looking for is a solution you haven't yet thought of.

You'll know you're on the right track when you hear a suggestion and you say, "I didn't think of that."

Conflict Resolution: A Lesson From "The Descendants"

As I've suggested before, a key to resolving conflict is to give up our attachment to being right. The harder we dig in our heels, the firmer the person we're in conflict with digs in his and the conflict goes on and on and on.

If you're looking for an example of what giving up the attachment to being right looks like and the value for doing so, there's a clip near the end of the George Clooney film "The Descendants" that provides a terrific example.

In the film, Clooney's wife has suffered a horrific accident while water skiing and is in a coma from which she will not recover. Clooney has two daughters, one of whom reveals to Clooney that, just before the accident, she had discovered her mother having an affair. Clooney is stunned to hear this news.

Clooney also has to deal with his wife's father who claims that the accident would never have happened had Clooney, a rich man, bought his wife her own boat.

The accusation is, of course, absurd as Clooney points out. What difference would it have made if his wife had been water skiing behind her own boat or, as was actually the case, behind someone else's?

But just a few moments later, we see Clooney give up his attachment to being right and it's a beautiful scene.

After lambasting Clooney for not buying his wife her own boat, the father in law says about his comatose daughter, "She was a faithful, devoted wife. She deserved more."

We in the audience know this isn't true. We know about the affair Clooney's wife was having and we have met the man with whom she was having the affair.

Clooney pauses. What should he say? We can almost see his mind racing, trying to decide how to respond. Should he contradict his father in law? Should he reveal details about the affair of which his father in law knows nothing? Or should he allow the impression to remain so that his father in law will continue to think well of his daughter?

It is at this moment that Clooney gives up his attachment to being right and responds, "You're right. She deserved more."

What is accomplished? It doesn't change the father in law's opinion of George but it does end the conflict. After all, when we say, "You're right" to the person we're arguing with, that ends the argument. The other person can only keep the conflict going by saying, "No I'm not right. Let's continue fighting."

Giving up our attachment to being right costs us something. For George Clooney, it costs the emotional satisfaction of proving his father in law wrong. In our lives, this is generally why we hang on to the attachment to being right. The possibility of proving someone else wrong is too juicy a payoff to let go of.

But that payoff of proving someone else wrong costs us peace. It costs us affinity with others. It keeps us mired in the conflict because the person we've just proved wrong is going to want to argue even harder (one can imagine the father in law, on hearing of his daughter's infidelity, continuing the conflict with the accusation, "You drove her to it.").

When we let go of our attachment to being right, we get peace. We get to let go of needless arguing. We can move on with our lives.

If we hang on to being right, we may get the temporary satisfaction of proving someone wrong. But it eliminates the longer-term satisfaction of peace and harmony and contentment.  

A Conflict Resolution Formula

George Mitchell is the former Senator from Maine, special envoy to the Middle East for the Obama administration, former Senate majority leader and one time chairman of Disney. Senator Mitchell chaired the negotiations that led to the peace agreement in Northern Ireland in 1998.

Appearing on the Charlie Rose show on PBS, Senator Mitchell revealed how he was able to broker the Northern Ireland agreement. He noted that he "got the parties to listen to the other side. Don't walk out. Don't dismiss it. Don't think of something else. Without that, nothing would happen."

I can't think of a better formula for resolving conflict, but I'm sure you already know that listening is the key to conflict resolution. If so, you probably think you are listening but the other person isn't and you're wondering what to do to get that person to listen to you.

I obviously don't know your specific situation, so I'll have to speak generally and, if you wish, write me with your questions and/or comments.

The following will test just how good a listener you are. As you read, see if you can listen to me without "walking out" (that is, stop reading), "dismiss it" (that is, fail to keep an open mind) and/or "doing something else" (reading the entire piece before checking email, etc.).

Here goes:

1.   If people won't listen to us, we are giving them reason to think it will do no good to listen. If people are being defensive with us, we're giving them reason to think there is something they have to defend. If people are hostile, we're giving them reason to believe they have to be (perhaps because we're not listening to them).

2.   We're the reason the conflict still exists if we've violated Senator Mitchell's formula by walking out, dismissing the other person's ideas, thinking of something else or (adding to the what the Senator said) blaming the other person for the conflict.

3.   We have to see the conflict from the other person' perspective. To the other person, we're the problem. We're being difficult. We're not listening. We're hard to get along with. Accept this and listen to find out what we need to do to not be so difficult to get along with.

4.   If the conflict has been going on for longer than 15 minutes, we're no longer arguing about the issue that started the conflict. What has entered the picture are our memories of all the past hurts and injustices that we believe the other person has inflicted on us and we're now interested in getting even, not resolving the conflict. The same thing that perpetuates wars between countries perpetuates interpersonal wars.

5.   All of the above, while perhaps counter to our beliefs, suggests we're more in control of resolving conflict than we think we are. Or, put another way, our ability to control the outcome of a conflict is correlated with what we think.