Miscommunication is one of those sneaky things that can make even the best relationships feel off-kilter. It’s the reason why a harmless suggestion can feel like a personal attack, or why a simple “I’m fine” can be code for “I’m definitely not fine, but I’m not going to talk about it.” Over time, these little misunderstandings can build up, turning what should be supportive moments into emotional landmines.
In this series, I’m going to dig into the ways miscommunication shows up in our lives, why it often feels like a threat (even when it’s not), and how we can start to untangle the mess. Because let’s face it: if we could just figure out how to hear each other properly, we’d all be a lot less defensive and a lot more connected. This isn’t about perfect communication; it’s about learning to ask the right questions and, when necessary, letting go of the stories we tell ourselves. Let’s unravel the confusion, together.
Now that we’ve set the stage for how miscommunication often plays a larger role in our relationships than we realize, let’s start with a personal story, one that involves a lot of defensiveness, some misunderstanding, and, eventually, a much-needed conversation.
As Josh and I have grown together, we’ve started doing something that has become both empowering and difficult: every time we realize something feels off, we make an effort to bring it up. We want to make things better, to understand each other more clearly, and to avoid letting things fester. But that doesn’t always go smoothly. In fact, when Josh would notice a pattern in my thinking or behavior that wasn’t really serving me and gently suggest a different way to look at it, I’d immediately feel like he was pointing out my flaws.
Even if he said it kindly. Even if he wasn’t criticizing me. Even if he followed it up with a hug. Like I’d be grabbing a little sweet treat at night, and Josh would say, “Are you sure you want to eat that?”
Immediately, I’m thinking: Did he just f****** say that to me? He thinks I’m fat? Cool. And here’s where I’d normally spiral. I bet some of you are nodding along, thinking what I was.
But when I looked at his face, he did not look like someone who had just figuratively slapped me. He looked clueless as to why I was looking more and more angry. So, I actually asked him what he meant, it turned out he was thinking about how I’d told him sugar before bed gives me nightmares (life hack – this is true for a lot of people). He wasn’t judging me. He was trying to help me. Yep, everyone, you can join me in relaxing your face now.
We were having two completely different conversations in our heads until one of us asked a question out loud.
I assumed judgment. He meant support. Classic us.
This is a small example, but it’s the kind of thing that would usually set me off, making me feel defensive, misunderstood, and like I wasn’t enough. But when we stopped assuming the worst and actually asked each other what we meant, things changed. He’d say things like, “Can I tell you how I’m seeing this without you thinking I’m attacking you?” And I’d say things like, “Are you actually criticizing me right now, or are you trying to help?”
We can both sound a little direct at times, even when we don’t mean to. So it wasn’t always graceful. Sometimes it was clunky and awkward. But it worked. We stopped treating every disagreement like a battle and started treating it like a puzzle we were both trying to solve.
It made me think about how often we respond to the idea of growth as if it’s a threat. Because sometimes, it really does feel like one.
This didn’t just happen with Josh.
In the first few years of motherhood, my sister Codi would offer suggestions. Things she thought might help my kids, make life easier for me, or just improve the chaos that comes with raising little humans. She wasn’t being judgmental. She loves my kids like they’re her own, and she genuinely wants to support me.
But all I heard was, You’re not doing this right.
It didn’t matter how gently she said it, or how helpful the advice actually was. I felt like I was failing. Like she saw all the places I was already struggling and was quietly pointing them out with a smile.
Looking back, she wasn’t criticizing me. She was trying to help in the way she knew how. And when I finally told her how it made me feel, she immediately pulled back and started asking first, Do you want ideas, or do you just need to vent?
And just like that, our relationship grew.
When someone we love suggests we grow, change, or think of something in a different way, it can feel like a rejection of who we already are. Even if they’re coming from a place of support. Even if their intention is love. We hear, “You should change this” and translate it into “You’re not enough.”
If you’ve ever found yourself getting defensive at a well-meaning suggestion, you’re not alone. Our brains are wired to protect what feels familiar. Even if what’s familiar isn’t good for us.
The ego isn’t a fan of change. It’s built to maintain a consistent sense of identity. And if that identity is rooted in survival mode or outdated beliefs, well, it doesn’t care. It just wants to keep you safe. Which often means keeping you stuck.
So when someone tells us, “Hey, I think there’s a better way,” the ego flares up like it’s been personally insulted.
And for those of us who grew up in homes where love was conditional or where being “good” meant not rocking the boat, being asked to grow can hit a nerve we didn’t know was still raw. Growth may have once come wrapped in pressure, shame, or silence. It may have meant, “Who you are isn’t lovable unless you change.”
So we resist. We protect. We build walls.
But sometimes being asked to grow isn’t an attack. It’s a compliment. It means someone sees you clearly. They see your potential. They believe you are capable of something more, not because you’re failing, but because you’re powerful. And they want better for you.
You just might not be able to hear that truth until the noise of your defense mechanism dies down. Sometimes the person trying to help us grow isn’t great at phrasing it. Sometimes we’re not in a place to receive it with grace. That’s okay.
The important thing is learning to pause and ask, “Is this a threat? Or is this love wearing uncomfortable clothes?”
Change doesn’t have to mean rejecting who you are. Sometimes it just means letting go of who you used to be. (Tragic, I know. She had so many opinions.)
And sometimes the person challenging you isn’t trying to tear you down. They’re trying to hand you a ladder. Even if, at first, it looks suspiciously like a critique.
If you’ve ever felt defensive when someone pointed something like this out to you, you are absolutely normal. Take a breath. Get curious. Ask a question instead of building a wall. You might be surprised by what’s actually trying to come through.
With love & light,
Jessica ♡
Unraveling the Self 
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