Never before have my emotions seemed to me a sufficiently weighty argument. Never before have I felt the right, and indeed the reason, to speak out loud about myself, about how I feel. And only six months after the start of psychotherapy, I suddenly noticed that I began to say “I-statements”. Naturally, inadvertently, by itself.
I have been reading about the benefits of I-statements for many years. Psychologists say that this is such an effective construction of a phrase when you inform others about your emotions and unsatisfied desires, and not about something else (which you really want to report at this moment). And that you should, for example, say «I’m upset that you came so late because I wanted to spend this evening with you» instead of «Why the hell are you coming home at twelve at night, you have no conscience.»
I read about this, in particular, from Lyudmila Petranovskaya, in her advice on communicating with children. She writes very persuasively in If the Child is Difficult: “The power of ‘I-statements’ is that they can’t be challenged. If a person says “I’m worried, I’m offended, I’m uncomfortable, I want, I need”, it’s impossible to argue with that. He knows better!»
This has always sounded to me not only reasonable, but also inspiring. But damn it was hard. To say «I-statements» seemed to me a completely artificial occupation. I tried to line up a phrase like this only if I remembered this psychological advice or after reading inspiring psychological literature. And then, of course, I forgot about the decision to use “I-statements”.
It’s so strange to say “I want”, “I feel, and you listen to it”, “I think and tell you about it”
And only six months after the start of psychotherapy (meetings every week, and at first twice a week), I suddenly noticed that I began to speak with these very “I-statements”. Naturally, suddenly, inadvertently, by itself. «I’m upset that you…» «I was sorry to hear that…» «I’m lost when you say that because I…»
Never before have my emotions seemed to me a sufficiently weighty argument. Never before have I felt the right, and indeed the reason, to speak out loud about myself, about how I feel. And to report these feelings to friends, acquaintances, relatives, bosses.
“It’s impossible!”: this is—yes, it seemed like a weighty argument, an appeal to some kind of norm. «How can you!» — too. “Enough, on this note I end the communication”, “I am not going to speak in such a tone”, and so on.
It really never seemed to me that what I feel, I can present to someone as an objective reality.
It seemed to me that, firstly, it was ridiculous (talking about your feelings and desires), and secondly, it was simply subjective and therefore … Yes, again — ridiculous. But after every week I told the therapist for 50 minutes almost without pause about how I feel — and she listened to it, and she discussed it, and it did not seem to her fantasy or stupidity — I was able to feel that my emotions, my experiences are also very important in objective reality.
And that they are also real. And often the only reality. And sometimes a reality that my interlocutor has no idea about. And he should be told about it. To start communication directly, not through a fence of guesswork and manipulation, but by direct movement of one person’s emotion to another’s emotion.
On Facebook (an extremist organization banned in Russia), when I wrote a post about this, they asked me: “And what is the effect of communication, has it changed?” I answered yes, of course. But I thought, what’s the difference? After all, the most important thing in these complex “I-statements” is the courage to express yourself directly and get an answer.
Whatever he is. The main thing is that I was able to say «I».