Why I Still Find Hard Conversations Bloody Hard
- deborahberrymanyog
- Aug 16
- 5 min read
Updated: Aug 29
I seem to be in a season of hard conversations (again). I didn’t plan it. Honestly, I’d rather be doing fun things – having brunch with friends, walking in the woods – but here I am.
Maybe some part of me is unconsciously calling it in. Who knows?
What I do know is this: hard conversations are, well…..hard. Even with the people we love. Perhaps especially with the people we love most.
But what’s harder, my love, is living in pockets of my life where I’m not being fully myself.
And right now, life is pointing me towards the slithers of untruths that were hiding in both dark corners and plain sight.
Even after 25 years of teaching women how to speak up, tell the truth, and ask for what they want, it’s still bloody hard. Whether I’m mentoring in recovery, coaching clients, or training yoga teachers, we always circle back to this topic every time. It’s tender territory.
So I’m sharing my experience while I’m in the thick of it, hoping it will be useful.
Why is it so darn hard?
We all have them, don’t we. Conversations that sit in our chest like a stone, the ones we quietly hope will go away if we just wait a little longer -telling a partner we need more support or intimacy, saying no to adult children or aging parents without drowning in guilt, asking for different working patterns without fearing we’ll look ‘less committed,’ a drifting friendship, or finally admitting what we really want in life (even if it shakes things up).
And maybe like me, you tell yourself you’re being loving by “keeping the peace.” but really, we’re keeping ourselves invisible.
Because pretending we’re fine when we’re not, isn’t loving.
Staying silent and simmering in resentment isn’t loving.
And suffering so someone else can stay comfortable, definitely isn’t loving.
It doesn’t really feel peaceful either, does it? It just creates the illusion of peace.
Meanwhile, that connection we’ve been so desperately trying to protect – with them, and with ourselves – is already severed and slowly eroding under the veneer of ‘fine’ (while dying inside).
(Deep Sigh)
What IS loving, is telling the truth, in the kindest way we know how. Speaking our feelings, our needs and wants, and our limits so we can stay healthy, safe and well.
THAT is a radical act of love.
(Read that again. Screen shot it. Save it as a screensaver)
It sounds so simple right? If we can just find the “right” words and the “right” time.
So we lie awake at night (or in meditation) scripting the conversation, then as we feel the knot in our stomach before hitting send or speaking up… backing out at the first smile or sigh.
Then comes the mental gymnastics:
Am I even allowed to say this? Or ask for this? What if I get it wrong?
Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe I’m just too sensitive, too much, too needy!
I’ll say something… next time. When they’re in a better mood.
What if they sulk, shut down, or think I’m selfish?
I can’t bear them feeling upset – I’ll just carry it for both of us.
Maybe if I practice more compassion and understanding, it will get better
Things will change when life settles down – when work eases, when the kids leave, when menopause passes, when they’re in a better place. I’ll just hold on until then.
But every time we wait, a little piece of us gets pushed further underground which is its own, sweet suffering.
This runs much deeper my friends. Because under it all - the real fear: if I show up as my full self, there will be blowback, and I might lose people.
Because honestly, some relationships can’t hold our truth. Some relationships can’t expand as we change and grow.
Some people are deeply invested in us staying exactly as we are (or were) - agreeable, undemanding, useful, the “bright and breezy, go with the flow” kind of girl. (I’m not that girl BTW, never have been)
And no one teaches you how to stay with yourself when others miss the version of you who made everything easier (for them!)
That’s why this is so hard. Because deep down, we know: Being ourselves might cost us something.
But my darling, not being ourselves will cost us everything.
Belonging & Hope
The brilliant thing about midlife is foresight. By now, I know two things for sure:
Staying silent about the things that really matter has never strengthened connection – only corroded it.
Every hard conversation I’ve eventually braved has turned out to be worth it.
Just pause and try that on for a moment, see if it’s true for you too.
This isn’t about hurting someone else. It’s about befriending ourselves.
And yes, some people may not like that. But that’s GOOD information.
Because if the cost of being in a relationship with someone is abandoning yourself – the cost is already too high my darling, you know that.
This is about me, us - taking radical responsibility for the life we really want, and the quality of relationships we need to hold us in this next season.
And don’t we want to know if a relationship can really hold the whole of us?
Isn’t it better to know that now – rather than in a year, 10, 20 years time?
So this is an ‘inside out’ piece of growth.
We use the tools and practices that calm and ground us inside (for me, walking, yoga, meditation and somatics), then tend to the younger parts of ourselves who feel scared, to reassure them - we’ll be ok.
We remind them to trust the bigger picture: in six months, six years from now, what happens if I don’t speak up? What happens to this relationship – and to my relationship with myself? What kind of life will I be living?
Here’s what gives me hope and keeps me brave:
It really does get easier with practice.
Facing truth, even when it’s messy, is always better than slow disconnection.
Short-term discomfort brings long-term peace and wholeness. And sets everyone free!
Our greatest growth often comes right after we’ve looked our deepest fear in the eye.
And yes, our voices may shake. Yes, some people may not like it. But what’s born on the other side – peace, freedom, wholeness – is worth it every single time.
We may never find hard conversations easy – I still don’t. But we can keep practicing.
We can choose truth over quiet resentment. And that, my love, is how we find real, meaningful connection again.
If you got this far reading today, I truly hope this is landing at just the right time for you. If this feels close to the bone, if you’re nodding along (or wincing a little) – welcome to the struggle-club! You are in great company here.
You might even feel brave enough to drop me a message or pop a comment on socials? Not just for me – but so other women can see they’re not alone in this struggle. Your words might be the reminder someone else needs today.
With you all the way, gently and always with love Deborah
💌 PS – Reading is one thing… but sometimes you need a safe space to practise. I’m thinking of running a Hard Conversations workshop in Autumn where we’ll do exactly that. A small group, working through real examples, and you’ll leave with a plan and script that feels clear, kind, and doable. Comment “I’m in” or DM me if you want the details.
