We’d been in the car for less than 10 minutes when he threw it out there: “Why are you still single?” He was part of the Alabama coaching staff and I knew exactly how he meant it. But what was I supposed to say? This was not the moment to talk about past relationships. This wasn’t the time to process my insecurities and fears. So, I looked at him with a wry smile and replied,” Well, coach, I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
There’s this secret, passive aggressive, side of me that wants to teach people a lesson in those moments. I want to give them a response that leaves them as uncomfortable as their question left me. “Oh, because I have genital warts.” “Well, because I’m a psychopath and I’m not able to make real connections with people.” But, as I said, I knew he was coming from a good place.
The problem is that he didn’t really think through what he was asking me. That question was deeply personal and answering honestly could put me in an extremely vulnerable position. What if I’d just gotten divorced or ended an engagement? The football coach that I met 10 minutes before is not the place for a pseudo-therapy session. What he really wanted to say was, “Hey, I think you’re great and it surprises me that you’re still single.” That’s easy to respond to: thanks! And it gives me the option of sharing more if I want to, without the pressure to provide an answer for him.
I use this story because I did understand his heart and this was a rather light example of questions we ask that can be way too personal for the level of the relationship we have with the person. We’ve all been guilty of it. We care about people, we are curious and we aren’t aware of their stories and that what we’re asking is poking a tender, raw spot.
“Have you set a date?”
“When are you due?”
“When are you guys going to have a baby?”
“When are you going to give him a little brother or sister?”
“What do you plan to do after you graduate?”
These questions can be a problem because the honest answer may be information that you’re not entitled to know. What if he’s considering breaking off the engagement? What if she’s not actually pregnant? Or is pregnant but isn’t telling people yet? What if they’re dealing with infertility or just had a miscarriage? What if she’s been asking God and/or her therapist for years why she’s still single? My uncle who I see once a year at Christmas isn’t the person I want to talk to about our painful story.
We’ve all done it. We’ve all asked a curious question and, once someone started answering, we realized we put them in an awkward position. So, before we ask let’s consider a few things:
1) What are the potential answers to this question?
2) Based on those potential answers, is this small talk or potentially a deep conversation?
3) Is our relationship close enough that we mutually share these sorts of details about our lives?
I realize this probably seems intense to a lot of you. But our Publix cashier asked us why we didn’t have babies. Fertility treatments led to weight gain and a stranger at a restaurant asked me when I was due. I could tell you a dozen stories that aren’t mine to tell of when people were asked questions by strangers that led to them walking away and trying not to cry.
Maybe you’re just curious and, honestly, we need more curiosity in our world. But there have to be boundaries. Maybe, like that coach, you’re actually trying to say something else. Is there maybe another way to say it? I’m not trying to be the question nazi here, but I am trying to give some perspective on what those questions can feel like and ask that you be thoughtful with your questions.
What about you? Do you have a story you want to share? Or, if you’d like to keep your story to yourself, do you know of other questions that I forgot? I’d love to hear from you in the comments or on social media.
