I Want A Pony

New Male Friend is the pseudonym I will henceforth be using when referencing the lovely fellow of previous blogs. Because he is what it says on the tin. I like to steal (plagiarise is the technical term) his words sometimes because he has a slightly more 'blokeish' way of putting things, a good foil for my Wuthering tendencies.

Besides, he has restored a little bit of my faith in the male capacity for empathy and understanding on the scale currently required. Partly because he has recently endured a similar experience, i.e. broken heart, crushed dreams, anger, frustration and snot, tears and nausea. Mainly because he talks about it. Talking is good. Not talking is bad. Not talking to the person you should be talking to is badder still.

I am pretty sure that we are all guilty of not talking when we should be talking - I for one hold my hands up to sometimes shouting rather than talking, particularly at times when I feel I am not being heard. It makes sense to me (well, it does in that stupid bit of brain we all have that never works properly on days of the week ending in'y'), if they can't hear what I'm saying I'll just say it a little louder. Yet the louder I talked, the less I was heard in a counter intuitive sort of way.

We've all witnessed an I Want a Pony session, shouting, screaming, sulking and even a little foot stamping thrown in for good measure. I suspect we have also all stopped listening at that point. But if we listen a little harder, learn to listen with our hearts and minds and not just our ears, we will know that it's not a pony they want. They just want to be heard.

So next time someone starts talking to you, and talking a little louder than you think necessary, remember they just want you to listen. And you can start by talking to them, not someone else.

Yours in hope and fear, AJ x