By Geoff Adelsberg, Associate Ombuds - University Ombuds

I thought I knew how to communicate—until I nearly lost the person I loved

Fresh out of graduate school, I moved to Madison, Wisconsin for a new job. I’d never stepped foot in the state before my interview. I’d always lived in places full of friends, acquaintances, and familiar communities. In Madison, I had only two things: a job and my partner—who had courageously moved there too, also knowing no one.

Being so isolated from my community was hard for our relationship. To navigate challenges, I called friends for help. They helped me come up with a plan to speak my mind. 

I needed support because speaking my mind never came easily to me, but the results didn’t yield what I really wanted: ease, connection, change. Frankly, it had the opposite effect. I remember walking with her on a beautiful night trying to say something important. I don’t remember what I said—only how hurt I felt when she got frustrated with me.

I was saying something true and meaningful to me. Shouldn’t she have listened with infinite patience? Didn’t she love me? 

What my friends and I didn’t realize was that authentic self-expression is only part of good communication. I’d ignored an entire dimension of communication: That kindness and speaking things in a way that can be digested matters just as much as honesty. Spewing judgments about my partner’s behavior, hoping it would lead to change, generated nothing but frustration and resentment.

I didn’t take to Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication when my partner first suggested it. I thought I was already good at communication. I taught for a living, so I was paid because I communicated well. Right?

It took more painfully unsuccessful attempts to speak my mind to become desperate enough to truly read the book. When I did, I read a sentence that changed my life: 

“Every criticism, judgment, diagnosis, and expression of anger is the tragic expression of an unmet need.”

That hit me hard. I was lashing out, telling my partner what she did wrong, in a desperate and ineffective attempt to get my own needs met. Rosenberg’s work helped me realize I didn’t actually know what those needs were. It gave me the language to identify and express them. He says—and I’ve found it to be true—that when we speak the language of needs rather than judgments and analysis, people hear us and are genuinely willing to help. 

At the time, criticism, judgment, diagnosis, and anger (particularly when my criticisms were not agreed with) were all I had to deal with difficult situations. It was undermining my most important relationship, and I was dangerously in the dark. I’m lucky I didn’t lose her. 

When I asked for my spouse’s perspective on a draft of this blog post, she told me that all the criticism and frustration felt like walls keeping her from knowing me. But when I began expressing my needs—what truly mattered to me, rather than what I thought she was doing wrong—it opened a door. We could finally collaborate, working together to meet both our needs. Our ease in connecting, and repairing after disconnection, grew increasingly easier.

Nonviolent communication (NVC) made me a much better person to live with—not just for her, but for me, too. As much as I judged my future spouse, I was judging myself ten times more harshly. I needed to learn to speak to myself and others in a way that got to the heart of the matter without causing pain and angst. NVC broke that pattern.

I want this language of connection to be available to as many people as possible. That’s why I teach NVC wherever I can, and why I’m offering the 5-session Language of Connection Series for the Virginia Tech community. So often, we’re missing the clarity and connection we long for simply because we don’t have a map to get there. For many people, NVC is that map. 

Curious if NVC might be the right map for you?

Email ombuds@vt.edu to join our upcoming info session on Tuesday, November 4 at 2:00–3:00 PM via Zoom.

Session dates for the full series are still being finalized. Participation is capped at 30, so early interest is encouraged.

P.S. No prior experience with NVC is required—just a willingness to explore new ways of communicating.