“Mikol melamdai hiskalti.”
From all my teachers I gained understanding.
You are all my teachers.
I get many responses to my weekly emails, and they are usually complimentary and positive. I want to share a few of the responses that I received this week, and you will soon understand why.
“Wow exactly what I needed to read now. Your emails have a special Siatta Dishmaya it’s almost creepy. Thank you so much!”
“That article was perfect and beautiful. Thank you so much.”
“Hi Miriam, This is the most validating words I have heard in a long time. THANK YOU, Thank you for the message that I so needed to hear today.”
I received many more along the same vein, and these emails are what keep me writing. They remind me why I started this in the first place.
However, there is one email that I just can’t stop thinking about. One email that has been echoing in my mind for days.
“It feels kind of insensitive your description about your husband going and returning Was it necessary to say that??? I would think that if you are trying to support and encourage those who are single and dealing with the pain involved with that, boasting and sharing about your own marriage wouldn’t exactly be the way to go….. Also, it shows that you can’t begin to comprehend the challenges those who are single go through.”
I read and reread her words so many times that they’re now etched in my heart. She is right. It was insensitive of me. The weight of that realization sits heavily on me. If she felt pained and hurt by my words, how many more of you felt that same sting, but remained silent? That thought keeps me awake at night. I never want my words to cause sadness.
If anyone was offended or hurt in any way by last week’s email, I sincerely apologize. I was trying to validate and empathize with the feeling of loneliness, but in trying to build a bridge, I may have created a rift instead.
Her words stayed with me, and the more I sat with them, the more I saw there were a few takeaways to learn from this.
Everyone processes feelings differently.
Behind every email address is a real person with real feelings. Two people can read the exact same words and feel completely different things. What sounds like “I understand you” to one person sounds like “Look what I have that you don’t” to another, and neither of them is wrong. Our hearts all have different tender spots, different triggers. What comforts one soul can wound another.
Sensitivity isn’t about assuming I know how someone should feel – it’s about respecting that their feelings are real, even when they’re different from mine. Think about the people in your world – friends, family, roommates, coworkers. What makes you feel supported might feel overwhelming to someone else. What motivates you might discourage them. Next time someone reacts differently than you expected, get curious instead of frustrated. Their way of processing isn’t wrong – it’s just different.
It’s easy to get defensive.
When I first read her email, I wanted to explain myself, to list all the ways I’ve struggled too, to prove I wasn’t the insensitive person she saw me as. When someone points out that we’ve hurt them, our first instinct is usually to explain why they’re wrong. Getting defensive is automatic – someone criticizes you, and instantly your brain starts building a case for why it’s them not you that is the problem.
But defensiveness shuts down conversation. It says, “I’m more interested in being right than in understanding you.” When you rush to defend yourself, you miss what the other person is actually saying. When someone tells you that you hurt them, they’re not looking for your explanations. They’re looking to be heard. The simple words “you’re right” can change everything. Not “you’re right, but…” Just “you’re right.
Intent doesn’t erase impact.
Even when we think we’re being careful, even when our hearts are in the right place, we can still cause pain. I thought I was sharing just enough to relate without oversharing, but I realize now that any mention of what I have – when speaking to those who long for it – can feel like salt in a wound.
The line between thoughtful sharing and hurtful insensitivity is thinner than I realized. My good intentions were meaningless in the face of her hurt. It’s like accidentally stepping on someone’s foot – saying “I didn’t mean to” doesn’t make their foot hurt any less. When someone tells you that your words or actions hurt them, resist the urge to say “But I didn’t mean it that way!” Their feelings matter more than your intent.
Pain is universal.
She was right. I don’t fully understand the pain and loneliness of being single. I will never know the specific ache of her loneliness, but pain recognizes pain. I have had my fair share of hurt and loneliness. Empathy doesn’t require going through identical circumstances. It is a willingness to say, “I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but I know what it is to ache, and I’m willing to stand with you.” They’re not claiming to understand your experience perfectly. They’re offering their heart, even if their words land wrong.
Sometimes the most healing thing is accepting love from people who care enough to try to understand, even when they can’t fully relate. It’s a two-way street. If you want others to understand your pain, you also need to try to understand that the person offering support means well, even if they miss the mark. Grace goes both ways.
Our brains cling to the negative.
I received dozens of positive emails last week, yet the one email I couldn’t stop rereading was the one that challenged me. One disapproving word can drown out a hundred kind ones. That’s how our brains are wired – criticism cuts deeper than praise heals. If you let your mind dwell only on the negative, you lose sight of all the good that exists alongside it.
Pay attention to how you replay conversations in your mind. Are you dwelling on the one critical comment while forgetting all the positive feedback? Start keeping track of the good – compliments, encouraging words, moments when you made someone smile. Train your mind to give more time to what’s going right.
One voice can carry many.
It would be easy to brush off one critical email as just “one person’s opinion.” But often, one voice is the echo of many who feel the same but stay silent. When one person is brave enough to put their feelings into words, it can shine a light on something others are quietly experiencing. Her courage to speak up may have given voice to feelings that others couldn’t express. She wasn’t just speaking for herself; she may have been speaking for everyone who felt the same but couldn’t find the words.
When someone speaks up about something that bothers them – in your friend group, at work, or in your community – don’t dismiss it as “just one person complaining.” Ask yourself: “Who else might feel this way but hasn’t said anything?” Listen for the voices behind the voice. And when you see something that needs to be addressed, find the courage to speak up – you might be giving voice to thoughts many others are thinking but can’t express.
All feedback is a gift.
Compliments remind me of the impact my words can have. Criticism reminds me of the responsibility my words carry. Praise encourages me to keep writing, and disapproval pushes me to write more carefully, more thoughtfully, more lovingly. Good or bad, positive or negative, I welcome and treasure all of it. Every single response helps me become a better person, writer, coach, and human being.
You may not be in a position where you receive constant feedback and comments, as I do, but in our daily lives, there are many times people tell us things that we didn’t ask for. When someone points something out to you, try not to see it as a personal attack. They’re gifts wrapped in uncomfortable paper to help us become better versions of ourselves. The people who care enough to tell you hard truths are the ones helping you grow. Thank them for their honesty, even when it stings.
Reflecting on a Year of Words
As I reflect on everything I’ve written this year, I realize I may have inadvertently caused pain to some of you. My words may have landed wrong, triggered old wounds, or made you feel unseen in ways I never intended. If any of my thoughts or words stirred sadness or hurt in your heart, please know how truly sorry I am. That was never, ever my intention. Quite the opposite. I want this space to be filled with joy, growth, healing, and love. I want my words to be a balm, not a wound.
The person who sent me the email I can’t stop thinking about, taught me more than she may ever know. In her courage to speak up, in her willingness to call out what hurt, she became my teacher.
“Mikol melamdai hiskalti.”
Here’s to a year of learning from one another with honesty, kindness, and compassion.
K’siva V’chasima Tova
Miriam
P.S. My book is finally available. Here is the link to purchase it.
