A Support Role Taxonomy

Close-up of a life preserver.
Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash

A universal human dilemma: you need social support, but the type of support you need isn’t the type you’re getting.

You just want to vent, but your partner jumps in with advice. A sick person gets tons of gifts, but all they really want is someone to come over and spend time with them while they’re stuck in bed. Everyone wants to come hold the newborn baby, but nobody’s offering to do the parent’s laundry or make some meals for them.

This is complicated by the fact that most people find it difficult to articulate exactly what they need in terms of support, especially when they’re already in a rough spot. Even if they do know, and could verbalize it, many people feel like they shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. So, sure, you don’t need all those nauseating frozen meals while you’re dealing with chemo, but at least they were nice enough to think of you, right?

It can help to learn how to identify what it is that you do need and how to communicate that to people. On the flip side, it can also help to learn which types of support you’re best suited to providing and look for opportunities to do those things—as well as to be careful not to push those types of support onto people who don’t need or want them.

This article is a taxonomy of different types of support that people might need. There are probably many more, although just about anything I can think of fits into one or more of these types. Some are subtypes of each other–advocacy is a type of assistance; perspective could be considered a type of information.

There are three major types of social support. Emotional support involves directly creating space for the person’s feelings and helping them to express or process them. It includes validation, affirmation, comfort, and perspective.

Intellectual support requires using your knowledge and critical thinking to help the person find ways to move forward. You can offer it through information, advice, feedback, or motivation.

Practical support helps people set up their lives and environments in ways that promote coping and healing, and is an ideal way to help if you struggle with emotional labor, listening, or other interpersonal skills. You can provide practical support by giving resources or assistance, supplying distractions, or simply being physically present.

Here are the twelve support roles, broken down in detail. They’re in order (roughly) from least involved and complex, to most.


1. Presence

Presence is the gift of intentional togetherness—the simplest way of “being there.” When you’re present with someone, you are physically[1] there with them. Even if you’re both doing your own separate activities, the person you’re supporting knows that you will shift your focus to them if they need it.

You may need presence if: You just don’t want to be alone.

Ways to be present with someone: Sit with or near the person. Don’t check your phone or start doing other things until they do, and stop if they stop. If they aren’t speaking, resist the urge to fill the silence with talking.

2. Distraction

When the person who needs support isn’t ready yet to actively resolve their problem, or there isn’t a realistic way to resolve it right now, you can help them distract themselves so that they can have a few hours of relief from what’s troubling them. Your main role here is to be the one who suggests the distractions and obtains or sets them up.

You may need distraction if: Focusing on the problem at hand is doing more harm than good; you can’t keep yourself from ruminating and feeling even worse; there’s no practical or effective way to resolve the issue right now, and you just need to get through the next hour(s).

Ways to provide distraction: Take the person out to do something they enjoy. Come over and watch TV or movies together. Talk to them about your own life or tell funny stories. Play games together. Let them play with your pet.

3. Comfort

When two people have an attachment bond, they can comfort each other—a social process that actually reduces the body’s physiological stress response. [2] (Remember oxytocin from all that fear-mongering about casual sex? This [among other things] is what it’s really for.) Comfort can involve touch or words, but the words are just there to make those bodily changes happen. People don’t have to be sexual/romantic partners to be able to comfort each other this way—these types of bonds are common between family members (even adults) and close friends, as long as those relationships are healthy and consensual.

You may need comfort if: You feel unsafe or scared, and there’s someone you trust to reassure you.

Ways to comfort someone: Hug, cuddle, or hold hands with the person (with their consent). Reassure them verbally that everything will be okay, that you’re here, that they’re safe. Keep repeating any words or phrases they find soothing. It’s okay to be repetitive—this isn’t about conveying information to them, it’s about facilitating a physiological response. Give them your full attention, or it won’t work.

4. Validation

Validation is often the first and most important significant process that occurs in therapy. [3] It’s important in other types of relationships as well. When going through difficult times, almost everyone struggles on some level with feeling like their thoughts or feelings don’t make sense or aren’t reasonable or proportional to the situation. For whatever reason, humans can’t really start to heal until we start to understand that it’s completely okay to feel and think as we do. If you’re finding that your attempts to support others fall flat, it may be because they needed validation first, and you skipped over this step. [4]

You may need validation if: You’re struggling with feeling like your experience isn’t real, visible, recognized by others, or “that bad”; you have people actually telling you that it’s not “that bad”; you feel ashamed of your own thoughts or feelings; you worry that you’re being “overdramatic” or irrational.

Ways to provide validation: Listen. Verbally acknowledge what you’re heard. (“I hear you.” “I’m still listening.”) Remind the person that it’s okay to feel the way they do. Reiterate that what they’re saying makes sense to you; if it doesn’t, ask open-ended questions until it does.

5. Affirmation

Closely related to validation, affirmation is the process of helping someone feel that you like them and think well of them. Just as people typically need to feel that their internal experiences are valid, they also tend to cope and heal better when they are reassured that the people close to them still respect them and want relationship with them. It may seem irrational, but I think it has to do with how fundamental our need for social connection is.

You may need affirmation if: You feel diminished or beaten down by your experience; you worry that people think less of you because of it; you’re receiving lots of negative feedback or criticism.

Ways to affirm someone: Tell the person why you admire or respect them. Compliment them. Give them genuine positive feedback about how they’re coping with the situation.

6. Resources

Sometimes, throwing money and/or stuff at the problem really does help. The prevalence of crowdfunding campaigns online is a testament to this. If you can afford it, supporting someone with resources can make a huge difference.

You may resources if: You’re faced with a financial crisis you can’t handle alone; there are tangible things you don’t have and can’t find or afford that would help; dealing with your situation has left you without money to spend on small pleasures or self-care that would help you cope and heal.

Ways to provide resources: Donate/contribute money. Ask what they need and buy it for them.

7. Assistance

If you don’t necessarily feel up to supporting someone emotionally, don’t forget the importance of practical assistance. It’s common to offer this when someone is going through a serious physical illness or has recently had a baby or lost a loved one, but people need it in all kinds of situations. Mental illness or stress can make it difficult to do basic “adulting” tasks, and helping someone with basics like food and laundry can free up time and energy for them to resolve whatever they’re going through.

You may need assistance if: An illness or disability is making it difficult or impossible for you to do something that needs done on your own; managing your current situation is taking up so much time you can’t do other necessary things like cooking, housecleaning, etc.; you lack transportation; you’re concerned about caring for your children or pets while you deal with things.

Ways to assist someone: Ask the person (or someone closer to them) what you can do for or with them. Offer rides, household help, childcare, petsitting, or other types of practical help. Identify what your skills are when it comes to helping people: Are you handy around the house? Great with kids? Skilled at making nutritious frozen meals? Let the person know that you are available to do this thing for them, preferably in writing so they have an easier time remembering to reach out to you if they decide they need it.

7. Information

Information is an often-overlooked form of support, perhaps because it doesn’t seem like a social process. But it is—even if you get it from a book or from the internet, you’re still receiving it from someone, hopefully someone you trust. Some people are very resourceful and tend to quickly learn what they need to know. They may not even realize that information is a specific type of support someone else might need. Others struggle with resourcefulness, and may not realize that they’re missing information, or that someone trustworthy may be able to provide it. Some people have been resourceful their whole lives and flounder when a crisis they’ve never faced before makes them suddenly incapable of finding the knowledge they need.

You may need information if: You don’t understand the facts of what’s going on; you’re feeling stuck because you don’t know enough to feel confident that you’re making a good decision; you feel like there’s nothing that can be done in your situation; you have a serious medical condition that your doctor didn’t adequately explain; you’re facing a situation that involves legal issues, financial decisions, or other specialized knowledge that you don’t have.

Ways to provide information: Suggest books, articles, or other educational materials. Recommend a doctor, lawyer, accountant, therapist, or other professional that you trust. If you specialize in this issue, donate some of your time to provide some education around the issue (within the boundaries of your professional ethics, of course.)

8. Advice

Advice is without a doubt the most-given and least-wanted form of support, which is something we have to acknowledge before we can even talk about helpful advice. While it’s almost always a good idea to get consent before offering support, advice is one of the most important types of support to never give if it’s not asked for. Unsolicited advice isn’t just useless much of the time; it also tends to directly interfere with other vital support processes, such as validation and affirmation. Nevertheless, people do often want advice—they just tend to want it from specific people, and only when those people have the context they need to give advice that’s actually useful.

You may need advice if: you want to know how other people would handle the situation if they were in your shoes; you want to hear from someone else who’s been through this.

Ways to give advice: Ask first! Consider how you’d handle the situation, but take the person’s own needs and values into account. Ask what they’ve already tried or considered, and why it didn’t or wouldn’t work. Make sure you have all the information you need to give helpful advice.

9. Motivation

There are many things that can mess with our executive function—ongoing conditions like ADHD or autism, situational factors like sleep deprivation, long-term emotional states like grief or stress, or simply having way too much to do. Internal motivation is one of the main executive functions, and often one of the first to go. Thankfully, motivating each other is something we can easily learn how to do.

You may need motivation if: You have the capability to do what you need to do, but can’t seem to get started; anxiety, perfectionism, or depression are getting in the way or resolving your issue; you need someone to hold you accountable.

Ways to motivate someone: Check in with the person about the things they’ve said they’d do. Offer encouragement and positive reinforcement. Ask helpful questions (“What would be the next step?” “What’s keeping you from doing that?”).

10. Feedback

Sometimes people need a more involved version of advice or motivation—that’s feedback. Note that sometimes people want constructive criticism specifically, and other times they may only want “negative” feedback if you see something actively wrong with what they’re thinking or doing. It’s the difference between “Do you think I handled this wrong?” and “How could I handle this better?”

You may need feedback if: You’re not sure if you handled a tricky situation appropriately; you’re not sure if you’re interpreting something correctly; you want constructive criticism.

Ways to provide feedback: Point out the person’s strengths or what they’re doing well. Offer suggestions for improvement, or alternate interpretations of a situation. Ask useful questions (“What’s your goal here?” “What other options are you considering?”)

11. Advocacy

Advocacy is a very special type of assistance that involves using privilege, social skills, or knowledge that someone else doesn’t have in order to communicate on their behalf. This usually comes up when someone needs something from some sort of institution or authority figure, but it can also apply to mediating an interpersonal issue or backing someone up when they set a boundary.

You may need advocacy if: You need something from a person or institution and don’t feel empowered to try to ask for it; you feel that it might help to have someone (perhaps someone with more privilege or with skills you don’t have) in your corner.

Ways to advocate for someone: Accompany the person to appointments and help them express themselves effectively. Make sure they are being understood. Resolve an interpersonal issue on their behalf, or serve as a mediator. Obtain their consent to speak to their doctor, therapist, or insurance company to appeal a decision or provide collateral information.

12. Perspective

One of the rarest and most precious gifts you can offer to someone who is suffering is perspective. Like advice, this one is offered much more often than it’s actually available to give, and that’s because many people don’t have as much perspective, or as useful of one, as they think. Perspective isn’t “it could be worse” or “I’ve suffered worse.” Perspective never minimizes the problem; if anything, it shines a clarifying light on it. It can come from a religious or spiritual approach, but doesn’t have to. It can also be thought of as wisdom.

You may need perspective if: You feel lost or hopeless. You have no idea how anyone could get through this. You need someone’s wisdom.

Ways to provide perspective: Make sure you actually have perspective to offer on this issue. (Have you been through something similar? Are you knowledgeable in the person’s faith tradition?) Share an empowering, comforting, or personally meaningful way of looking at the issue. If appropriate, provide a religious, spiritual, or secular interpretation. Use perspective-finding tools that the person values, such as a tarot reading. Recommend a work of art, a book, or an essay that offers wisdom. Perspective is not the same as advice, and does not necessarily include any guidance on what the person should do. It’s more about providing a new lens for them to look through if they want to.


It’s a good idea to explicitly make sure you know what the person wants before providing any type of support. This is especially important with comfort, resources, assistance, information, advice, feedback, and advocacy, as these things are the most likely to cross boundaries when they’re unsolicited. But any type of support can come across as invalidating, tactless, or even violating if it’s not wanted. Nonconsensual touch that’s meant to be “comforting” can be actively harmful.

I’ll break down some of the more complex support roles in later articles. For now, I hope this taxonomy helps you give and receive support to others.


[1] Sometimes presence can be virtual, as when people hang out together via video call or have an ongoing text chat that they know they can use at any time. But it’s much harder to demonstrate presence without a face-to-face (or side-by-side) connection.

[2] https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0306453013002369

[3] https://www.miriammogilevsky.me/blog/2018/8/21/what-is-therapy

[4] https://the-orbit.net/brutereason/2015/06/29/dont-tell-people-how-not-to-feel/


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A Support Role Taxonomy
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Reaching Out for Support When You Have a Mental Illness

[Content note: mental illness]

After having written tons of posts about supporting people with mental illness, I realized that there was a gap–I’ve seen few articles about how to reach out for support when you’re the one with the mental illness. Specifically, how to do so in a way that’s respectful of people’s boundaries.

This is a difficult topic, for reasons that I think are obvious. I don’t want to discourage anyone from reaching out for help, ever. I also want to encourage people to be mindful of others’ needs and boundaries, even when everything hurts so much that that feels impossible to do. Especially then.

Why do these two goals feel like they stand opposed to each other? They shouldn’t. Getting affirmative consent before sharing difficult and potentially-triggering things with people isn’t just good for them, it’s also good for you. Most of us who struggle with mental illness have our moments of panic about imposing on others or being a burden on them. Making sure that we’re actually getting their consent before leaning on them for support can help us with those feelings.

I’ve been on both sides of this. I’ve been the depressed and suicidal person who had to reach out for help, sometimes in ways that didn’t really allow people to say no. I’ve also had people reach out to me in ways that made me feel trapped and coerced. So I think I have a lot of empathy for everyone in both of these situations.

This is a huge topic and this post is very long, but it still doesn’t cover all the nuances. This post is focused on the issue of consent and boundaries specifically, so please don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t cover everything you thought it would. Suggestions for future posts are welcome as always.

Consent, Consent, Consent

The most important thing about reaching out to someone for support with a mental health issue is to explicitly ask for their consent to have this conversation. This means that, rather than sending them a sudden wall ‘o’ text on Facebook, you might first say, “Hey, can I vent to you about depression for a bit? You can respond whenever you have a moment.” Or in person, if the topic hasn’t come up organically in a way that suggests that they’re ready to hear about it, you might say, “Can we talk about some ED stuff I’m going through right now?”

If you want to talk to someone about things that are fairly likely to be triggering–examples include self-harm, suicidal ideation, eating disorders, homicidal ideation, and so on–it’s a good idea to include a content note. In a message or text, that can just look like “TW: anorexia”; in person, you might say, “Can I talk to you about some eating disorder issues I’m having. I might get into detail.” This is important because 1) the person you’re talking to might have their own issues, which you may not necessarily know about; 2) they may be in a space right now where seeing a sudden wall of text about a very serious topic might really stress them out; and 3) regardless, people can often help you better if they have some idea of what you’re going to talk to them about, especially when it’s something pretty serious like that. When I see “Hey, can I talk to you about anorexia?”, I put myself in a different headspace than when I just see “Hey, can I talk to you about some stuff?”.

When you message someone to talk to them about Heavy Stuff and do not give them a warning about the content or an opportunity to politely bow out, understand that you are making it very difficult for them to say no to you, especially if they’re not someone who feels comfortable asserting boundaries (and most people aren’t). You may not intend to make them feel this way, but that’s the effect it often has when you don’t check in to see if it’s okay first.

I’ve gotten sudden walls ‘o’ text while in class, while on dates, when I was just about to fall asleep in bed, while finishing an assignment on deadline, and all sorts of other inopportune times. It put me in a serious bind, because on the one hand I had a really serious message demanding my attention, and on the other hand, I had things that I needed to be doing. When someone suddenly sends me five paragraphs about having an eating disorder and being suicidal, it feels incredibly wrong to say, “I’m really sorry, but I’m busy right now and can’t talk.” I usually do it, but that’s only because I’ve developed very strong boundaries over the years. Most people haven’t.

Another way that you may unintentionally make it difficult for people to set boundaries is by getting their consent for a certain type of conversation (“Hey, got a minute to chat?”) and then, once they agree, making it clearly way more than a minute and more than just a “chat” (“So I’m really really depressed and I think I’m about to lose my job and I just don’t know what to do, I’m almost out of savings and–“). Phrases like “got a minute to chat” and “hey what’s up” are vague, sometimes intentionally so. Once someone gets into a conversation with you, it’s almost impossible to then be like, “Um, actually, I thought this would just be a casual chat; I’m not really available for a conversation like this right now.”

If someone tells you that no, they cannot talk/listen right now, respect that answer, even if it feels unfair or unreasonable. They may in fact be lazy. They may in fact be selfish and callous. They may in fact completely not understand what you’re going through and if they did then they’d listen. They may in fact just be shallow people who want everything to be sunshine and daisies all the time. They may be all of those things, but they still deserve to have their boundaries respected.

The Importance of Being Specific

Consent is one reason why, when you’re reaching out to someone for support, it can be helpful to be as specific and clear as possible about what you need from them. (I say “as possible” because that can be really difficult when you’re in a moment of crisis.) If they know what they’re being asked to do, then they can actually consent to it. But taking a moment to think about what you need from others right now will help you, too–it’s easier to get what you need if you know what that is and ask for it:

“Hey, I need to just vent at someone about some depression stuff. Would you be able to listen for a bit?”

“I’m feeling down and it would be helpful to distract myself. Could you come over and play video games with me?”

“I’m feeling unsafe tonight. Is it ok if I spend the night at your place and just do my own thing with someone else in the room?”

You may, like me, be concerned that if you let people know you’re having a hard time, they’ll try to offer you types of help that you don’t need. In that case, it can be a good idea to be clear about what you’re not looking for, too:

“I’m going through a really rough time. I don’t really want to talk about it, but could we just chat for a while about something else?”

“I’m having a really bad day. I’m not really up for talking to anyone, but could you send me some cute animal videos?”

What if you want support but have no idea what would help? In that case, being specific is clearly impossible. I think it’s better to be transparent and say something like, “I’m feeling really bad and to be honest I don’t know what would help right now. I just wanted to reach out to someone.” Hopefully, your support person might have some ideas about how to help or what to say.

The reason this sort of transparency is helpful is because otherwise, the person might assume that you do need something specific and you know what that is, but that they need to somehow intuit it. Or they may ask you what they should do, which can be stressful for you to have to respond to.

As a more long-term strategy, though, it might be helpful to try to figure out what other people can do that would help you feel better, so that you know what specifically to ask for from them. If you have a therapist, they can help with that project. If not, you can ask others who struggle with similar issues (maybe on a support forum if you don’t know anyone personally) what works for them. Just because you have similar issues doesn’t necessarily mean the same things will work for you, but there’s a good chance you’ll find something.

Why This Can Be So Hard

Back to the issue of boundaries. For many of us, the pain of mental illness is so strong that it’s hard to empathize with someone who says it’s too much for them to hear about. Resentment can build. You think: “They can walk away from this conversation, but I have to live with this my whole life.” When someone is unable to listen to us talk about how awful we’re feeling, that can kick up those feelings of resentment.

But just as we ask our friends, partners, and family members not to take it personally that we have a mental illness, we should try not to take it personally when they have their own feelings and limits. There’s a reason psychologists have a concept called “vicarious traumatization,” and a reason why therapists and social workers have such high burn-out rates. Of course, you may not be asking them to do anything close to what a therapist does, and they may not experience it as “traumatization,” but the point is that being very close to someone’s pain can have an impact. In addition, your support people may be dealing with their own mental health issues, which you may or may not know about. They may want to listen to you, but may be unable to because of what it brings up for them.

One last thing I want to say about this is that for me personally, depression made it really difficult to see how my own pain was hurting others. I don’t mean in that awful way that we talk about, where people take our pain as a personal insult or expect us to be happy all the time. I mean that seeing someone you love in pain hurts. Legitimately. But when I’m depressed, I think I’m so awful that I don’t understand how anyone could possibly care that I’m hurting–even though I reach out to them with the hope that they’ll listen. (Mental illness causes many such contradictions.) And when they say that they care so much that it’s really difficult for them to hear about it, it sounds like they’re insulting and patronizing me, presumably to “get out” of having to listen to me. That this perception is often wrong is something that I had to recover from the worst of it before I could understand.

Self-Forgiveness

Reading this, you may realize that you have overstepped boundaries in the past. (Or maybe you already knew this.) Mental illness can make people feel like they’re horrible and deserve to die, and realizing that you have overstepped boundaries may exacerbate this.

Try to be gentle with yourself. Mental illness can provoke boundary-crossing behavior, and while it’s important not to use this as an excuse not to work on it, it also means that you’re not a terrible person, and you can get better–both in terms of boundaries and in terms of your symptoms themselves.

Talking about this issues presents what The Unit of Caring refers to as a competing access needs problem. Some people will really benefit from this advice. Some people may already be so terrified of violating boundaries that they almost never ask for the help they need. (This may be surprising given that I wrote this post, but I’m squarely in the latter group.) Mental illness also complicates matters in that people may simultaneously be excessively terrified of crossing boundaries, while also sometimes crossing boundaries!

If you feel that implementing this advice will do harm to you, then don’t implement it. However, I would posit that it would actually be helpful for most people, because my core message here isn’t “You should be Very Very Careful about not violating anyone’s boundaries,” but rather “Hey, here’s how to reach out for help in a way that respects people’s boundaries.”

Supportive People Who Aren’t Really

One reason you may be terrified of crossing boundaries is because you may have done your due diligence and followed all this advice and then still had people tell you that you’ve overwhelmed and burdened them and they never wanted to help you this much but felt obligated to. There’s a lot going on here, such as:

  • Poor boundaries on the part of those people
  • People being used to passive communication and reading unspoken messages into your words that you never put there (such as, “If you don’t help me I will hate you/hurt myself/etc”)
  • A duty-centered view of relationships (believing that being your friend/partner/family member obligates them to help you whether or not they want to or can safely do so)
  • Simple ableism: believing, however implicitly, that your mental illness makes you so weak and helpless that they are ethically obligated to help you, no matter at what cost to them

The plentiful existence of people who act in these ways makes it difficult to talk about boundaries and mental illness. If we’re constantly accused of being burdensome and asking for too much no matter how careful we are, that can easily obscure the fact that sometimes we really do reach out to people in ways that make them feel like they can’t say no. But remember: both of these things can be true, and are true. They sound contradictory but are not.

There’s no simple way to fix this problem. If you’re not sure whether or not you’re being mindful of boundaries, it might be worthwhile to consult a friend that you trust to be honest and ask them for feedback. And if you notice that there are people in your life who keep telling you that it’s okay to vent about your feelings or to ask them to take you out for ice cream but then it turns out that they never wanted to help you and only did it out of a sense of obligation, it might be time to downgrade these people from “friend that I ask for mental health support” to “acquaintance that I talk about Marvel films with.”

Whatever their reasoning for not being honest (or not being aware enough of their own needs to be able to be honest), it’s not a healthy dynamic. It’s the sort of dynamic that leads many of us to feel like such awful burdens all the time. It’s the sort of dynamic that can make it really difficult to take this blog post seriously, because if people are constantly calling you a burden when you’re not, you may not be able to recognize the ways in which you might actually be crossing boundaries.

Of course, supportive people are difficult to come by and it can feel counterintuitive to stop going to these people for support when they seem to be acquiescing. (And if you ever feel like it’s a matter of life or death, please, do whatever you need to do to keep yourself safe.) But they’re not, in fact, supportive people. If they were, they would properly set boundaries with you in a way that’s compassionate but still assertive. Pretending to consent and then blaming you for believing them is an unkind and unsupportive thing to do.

~~~

If you are in crisis and do not feel safe, and none of your support people are available to talk to, please call 911, go to the ER, or call one of these hotlines if you don’t feel safe doing the first two things:

  • National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
  • The Trevor Project (for LGBTQ youth)
  • Trans Lifeline
Reaching Out for Support When You Have a Mental Illness

Overapologizing and the Myth of Closure

Something that happens to me sometimes with guys* is they do something I find hurtful, I calmly tell them so, they apologize, I thank them and accept, and then…they keep apologizing. And apologizing. And talking about how they feel like “such a jerk now” and how they really are a nice person who doesn’t usually do things like this and they’re really so sorry and I keep saying that it’s fine, they apologized already and I accepted and it’s okay as long as it doesn’t happen again and…they just. keep. apologizing.

And then it occurs to me that, even if they don’t realize it, they’re asking for something from me. They want reassurance. Fucking up feels bad, and I’m the one with the supposed power to make them feel like good people again. So the endless apologizing is meant to extract those sorts of caring behaviors from me–“No, really, I really like you as a person, I know you didn’t mean it”–and perhaps, eventually, capitulation–“It’s okay, really, it wasn’t even that big a deal, I probably shouldn’t have even said anything about it.”

As I said, this is probably unintentional/subconscious; people who do this probably think that they’re just making sure the other person really has forgiven them. But since it’s based around a temporary loss of self-esteem, the only thing that can end the cycle of apologizing is to be convinced that they really are a good person–perhaps because the thing they did wrong wasn’t even that bad of a thing to do.

And there’s plausible deniability there, too. But they feel so bad! But they’re just showing you how much they care that they messed up! But…maybe it was juuust a little bit kinda really mean of you to make them feel so bad! And on it goes. It feels wrong to ask that someone stop apologizing, even if it’s making you feel bad. I think we’re meant to take over-apologizing as a sign of extra concern, or perhaps as a compliment. But, as with surprisingly many social interactions, over-apologizing may be more about the apologizer’s needs and wants rather than those of the person being apologized to.

We all have probably had times when we fucked up and apologized and just really needed to have that apology accepted immediately and to be reassured that we’re good people immediately. Some of this may tie into something that I’ve noticed before and that advice columnists like Captain Awkward and Doctor Nerdlove have discussed: the myth of closure.

Usually discussed in the context of breakups, the myth of closure is the idea that there’s something called “closure” that would really, really help us get over breakups, and that may even be owed us by the person who broke off the relationship. Sometimes it’s helpful to know why things ended, sometimes not, but regardless, nobody owes you that explanation. Sometimes, being an adult means sitting with the uncomfortable feelings and learning to overcome them by yourself, without the help of the person who caused or triggered them (but with, of course, the help of friends).

A similar thing happens in the context of fuckups and apologies. You fuck up, you feel bad, you apologize, and then you (may) think that you need to be absolved by guilt by the person you hurt. But sometimes people aren’t willing to accept your apology, and that’s okay. Sometimes they accept it, but they’re not interested in discussing the issue any longer. That’s okay too. They don’t owe you any closure. You may need to process your feelings about your fuckup without their help.

And then it occurs to me that it’s mainly women who are consistently asked and expected to do this–this emotional work. This soothing of hurt feelings, this rebuilding of lost self-esteem. Not only that, but it’s usually the woman who was hurt in the interaction who is expected to do it–at a time when she deserves the space to deal with what she experienced, she is drafted into your Feeling Okay Again Army.

In her wonderful piece which I linked to in my last roundup, Sarah writes about the conversations that often happen between men and women about sexism and sexual violence, and how they go wrong. In it, she links to an article by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman about how to get support when bad things happen to someone you know:

Draw a circle. This is the center ring. In it, put the name of the person at the center of the current trauma. For Katie’s aneurysm, that’s Katie. Now draw a larger circle around the first one. In that ring put the name of the person next closest to the trauma. In the case of Katie’s aneurysm, that was Katie’s husband, Pat. Repeat the process as many times as you need to. In each larger ring put the next closest people. Parents and children before more distant relatives. Intimate friends in smaller rings, less intimate friends in larger ones. When you are done you have a Kvetching Order.

[…]Here are the rules. The person in the center ring can say anything she wants to anyone, anywhere. She can kvetch and complain and whine and moan and curse the heavens and say, “Life is unfair” and “Why me?” That’s the one payoff for being in the center ring.

Everyone else can say those things too, but only to people in larger rings.

When you are talking to a person in a ring smaller than yours, someone closer to the center of the crisis, the goal is to help. Listening is often more helpful than talking. But if you’re going to open your mouth, ask yourself if what you are about to say is likely to provide comfort and support. If it isn’t, don’t say it. Don’t, for example, give advice. People who are suffering from trauma don’t need advice. They need comfort and support. So say, “I’m sorry” or “This must really be hard for you” or “Can I bring you a pot roast?” Don’t say, “You should hear what happened to me” or “Here’s what I would do if I were you.” And don’t say, “This is really bringing me down.”

If you want to scream or cry or complain, if you want to tell someone how shocked you are or how icky you feel, or whine about how it reminds you of all the terrible things that have happened to you lately, that’s fine. It’s a perfectly normal response. Just do it to someone in a bigger ring.

Comfort IN, dump OUT.

Of course, the situations we’re talking about are not at all comparable to traumas like these in terms of their emotional salience and difficulty. But, as Sarah points out in her piece, having a Kvetching Order is still important for more minor situations, so that you’re not overburdening a person who is already burdened. In this case, if you’ve hurt someone and that’s hurting you, you need to go to an outer ring to kvetch about it. So, not the person you hurt (or their best friend or significant other), but a friend of yours who isn’t as close to the situation.

Sarah then brilliantly connects this back to gender: women sometimes discuss the shit they have to deal with, and men can feel frustrated, angry, or even vicariously traumatized as a result. But because of our crappy gender roles, men are less likely to have close friends that they can confide in than women are, and when they do have such friends, they’re most commonly women. This means that if men want to confide in someone about how crappy they feel in response to women’s stories of sexism, they may have nobody to share that with besides women. And women are in a smaller ring than men when it comes to the issue of sexism and sexual violence. Sarah writes:

If you are a man who is becoming upset/depressed/overwhelmed/hopeless/defensive when you listen to the women in the world/your life talk about their experiences, you need to talk about it.  With another man.

I really, really mean this.  Not to complain about how crazy or uptight women are, please.  (I mean, personally, I don’t think that would help you or me very much at all).  But you absolutely need to talk to another guy.  A guy you are friends with and who you trust is ideal.  And if you don’t have that kind of guy in your life- and, seriously, you are not alone in that area- then you have the very hard, critical work of figuring out how to make that kind of friendship ahead of you.  If you are feeling a restless helplessness over all of this, that can be your challenge.  Because I think as women we really, really need you to form those relationships.  We really, really need you to have an emotional connection to each other.  And we need to know you guys can turn and talk each other through these hard things and support each other while you support us.

To bring it back to the over-apologizing thing, if a guy hurts his female friend and then feels bad about it, he’s not as likely to have other close friends–especially close male friends–to talk about it with. So the temptation is especially strong to talk to the friend that he hurt.

Fucking up feels bad, and it’s legitimate to want support when you feel bad, even if it’s because you did something wrong. That’s why it’s important to have other people or places you can go to get support when you feel bad. And when you do this, by the way, honor the person who you hurt and who helped you be better by retelling the story accurately. “I said something that I really shouldn’t have and hurt my friend. I apologized and she accepted, but I still feel really bad. I guess I’m just looking for some reassurance I’m not a terrible person even though I did this wrong thing.”

You deserve to be supported and reassured when you’ve done something wrong and taken the right steps to fix it. But please don’t manipulate the person you hurt into doing this for you.

~~~

*Obligatory note that this can happen between people of any gender, but I notice it especially with men, and have spoken to several women who have noticed the same thing. So, while it probably happens with everyone, it probably happens more–or more intensely–with men apologizing to women. And, therefore:

DISCLAIMER: The Author in no sense intends to imply that All Men are responsible for the aforementioned Conflict(s) or Issue(s) as described in this Text. The Author reiterates that Not All Men commit the Offense(s) detailed in the Text, and that the Text is not intended to apply to or be addressed to All Men. The Author hereby disclaims any binding responsibility for the emotional well-being of such Men who erroneously apply the Entreaty(ies) contained within this Text to their own selves. The Reader hereby agrees to accept all responsibility for any emotional turbulence that arises as a result of the perusal of this Text.

Overapologizing and the Myth of Closure