One day last year, before heading into a dinner party, a friend turned to me and said “Please don’t try to fix my brother.” I know what she was referring to: the first few times her brother and I were in a room together, I steered him into conversations about his potential and the possibilities of what could happen if he let go of what he was holding onto so steadfastly, and so unhappily. She reminded me that he’ll never change and I agreed and said I had no intention of trying to fix him.
But her comment bugged me. I felt greatly misunderstood and was soon bummed that I didn’t respond to explain myself. Sometimes it’s just best to be agreeable, especially when it will appear like you’re defending yourself. But here’s what I wanted to say.
I don’t “fix” people. I don’t flatter myself by thinking that I can sway people by directing the conversation deeper until we’re hitting on a sensitive spot. I don’t go into conversations intending to change their lives. I am very well aware that people go at their own paces. They change when they’re ready to change. They can be randomly inspired and motivated at any given time, but ultimately, if they’re not ready, they’re not open.
However, I do know that I’m impatient with people who make it a habit of complaining without any attempt to get rid of what causes them such tremendous grief. I’m solutions-oriented to the core, so I can’t hear about someone’s problems without trying to engage in a conversation about potential solutions. And I’m usually not open to being led down a negative spiral with someone whose life has plenty to cheer about.
I get that there are times when people just want to vent to someone who will acknowledge and commiserate. I understand how satisfying it is to have someone on your side when you’ve been wronged or when life is obviously shitting on your head. I try to be mindful of when someone is in that phase. But when I hear them playing the same tape with everyone they come in contact with, I know that they’re not in the venting phase.
So, to reiterate. I do not fix people. I don’t know what will work for you. I don’t know what your best plan of action is. I don’t pretend to know you better than you know yourself. But I won’t let you sit in the darkness and try to convince me that you’re trapped. I won’t hear your excuses of why you “can’t” change without asking you for the evidence. I refuse to believe that you don’t deserve happiness. I will challenge you and offer you a ladder and will hold out hope for you when you have none for yourself. You get to decide what to do with that.
