Sometimes you just have to walk away

When it's not worth having a difficult conversation

For most of my life, I have been praised for being insightful and supportive. This makes me a caring coach, parent, and partner. But getting my own needs met can be challenging, especially when I fear the other person’s reaction.

My people-pleasing instinct makes me tune into other people’s needs and sometimes abandon my own. As a feminist and an outspoken progressive, this is hard to admit.

I’m 51, and I still have to pause before my knee-jerk reaction has me saying yes to all of the things. I have gained skills and awareness and built stronger boundaries, but old habits die hard, if they ever die at all.

I grew up with an emotionally volatile Father. Never spill milk around this guy. More on that later.

My parents divorced before I could tie my shoes. The 1970s “Free Love Era” didn’t work out so well for many mothers, including my mom. I was the kid with the floral suitcase who traveled between two houses across Berkeley, California.

One house was my Mother’s home, full of light, art, cuddles, and love. A devoted photographer and an incredible Mom, she juggled work and mothering as a single parent, the best she could. I always felt safe, I always felt at home.

(Image of me playing at my Mother's house, taken by my photographer mother.)

My Dad had an apartment nearby where I slept on the couch when I visited. He remarried when I was six, and although he and his new wife moved into a house where I technically had my own room, I could never decorate it, make it cozy, or leave my mark.

One day after elementary school, I had my friend Shannon over to his house. Shannon accidentally spilled her milk when we were having a snack, which set my Dad off into a rage. He screamed at her, and she ran into my room. I was so embarrassed and yelled back at him that he couldn’t act that way. I spent the next twenty years telling him that he couldn’t act that way until, through therapy and acceptance, I realized this was not an act; this was him.

(Image of me and Shannon taken by my photographer Mother)

Learning to trust men in relationships took some time. Thank goodness my Stepdad came into my life at age eight and showed me unconditional love. Poor guy, I took a lot of my anger out on my Stepdad as a teenager, which was really about my Bio Dad. I’d come home late, stomping up the stairs in my thrift clothes, wearing heavy eyeliner and even heavier combat boots, and he’d welcome me in with, “How are you and your shit-kicking boots doing?” I had to love him.

(Photograph of me at 13, taken by my photographer Mother)

It took a therapist in my twenties during the first and only session with my Dad, who said to me, “Your Dad can’t hear any of this. Are you sure you need to tell him?”

I realized it was time to focus on myself and my chosen family. I attempted to reconnect with my Bio Dad a few years ago, but was unsuccessful.

Throughout my adult life, I’ve explored relationship dynamics as a mother, wife, performer, and voice coach for singers and public speakers. I have a strong sense of justice for the underdog because I felt like an outsider as a child. I love to coach women to tap into their truth, share their authentic voice, and shed the old parts holding them back. Saying what we genuinely feel makes us resilient and builds confidence. I am modeling what communication can be like for my sons.

(Me with my sons, Finn and Kaleo, and my furry son, Nalu)

I write Love Your Voice to encourage other women to reclaim their voices in midlife. We can heal our voice scars and explore ways to speak our truth, learning to trust that people can handle it. If they cannot, that is their problem, not ours.

This month, I have been writing about how we can have difficult conversations to prepare to negotiate salaries, give our team feedback, or even gracefully let someone go in our professional or personal lives.

There are also situations when it truly is just time to walk away.

Here are a few red flags for when it’s not worth your time, effort, or sanity to engage:

• They answer your questions with a question: For example, if you asked, “Our records show that you have arrived late to work the past five days in a row. Can you explain what happened?” they answered, “Why do you want to know what I do in my private time?”

• They deflect to other topics. If you bring up one topic and they suddenly switch to a different topic, they are deflecting. This can feel very confusing. Ask to stay on topic, and if they refuse, stop trying to talk with them.

• Their reaction feels dangerous. If their response feels volatile or dangerous, leave immediately and go somewhere you know you are safe. If you must continue talking with this person, you may want to seek legal counsel or a mediator.

• If you fear for your immediate safety, call 911, or contact the domestic violence center at 1-800-799-7233, or text BEGIN to 88788

---

This week, I’ll go live on Substack (May 22nd at noon PST) to talk about how women can navigate difficult conversations and decide if they’re worthwhile.

Have you ever had a difficult situation with someone where it was better to walk away? What were the signs for you? How do you feel about your choice today? Please share in the comments; I’d love to know.

Stay Calm & Speak On,

Jessica

PS- If it helps, here’s a song, “Walk Away” by Ben Harper, that beautifully captures when it’s time to walk away: