Are you someone who prides yourself on being direct?
Maybe you’ve said things like:
“I tell it like it is.”
“I don’t sugarcoat.”
“You always know where you stand with me.”
You probably see this as a strength — a sign that you’re honest, authentic, and not afraid of conflict.
So let me offer you some direct feedback: you might not be as direct as you think you are.
What we call “direct” is often just judgment
Much of what we call “direct communication” isn’t direct — it’s judgment.
We say things like:
“What were you thinking?”
“Do you even hear what I’m saying?”
“You always do this.”
“You’re not paying attention.”
“You’re not getting it.”
These statements sound direct because they’re blunt. But they don’t reveal anything about us. They describe what we think about someone else instead of expressing what’s alive in us.
What happened at my dad’s house
A couple months ago I was staying at my dad’s house. I moved a small end table a few feet across the carpet so I could sit on the floor and eat lunch while watching TV.
A minute later he walked into the room, saw the table, and said sharply, with an edge:
“You’re the only person I know who rearranges furniture in other peoples’ homes!”
Then he followed it with:
“Do you know exactly where you moved that from?”
“Do you know exactly where to move it back to?”
I immediately felt small. Embarrassed. A little panicked.
The irony was that the night before, we’d just had a long conversation about his belief that he’s a very direct communicator.
In that moment something clarified for me. If he were truly being direct, the conversation might have sounded more like:
“Jared, seeing that table moved makes me anxious. I don’t want your stepmom to feel like the house is getting rearranged. Can you help me put it back where it was?”
That version would have landed completely differently. I wouldn’t have felt small. I would have understood him. I might have even felt some empathy — for what he was worried about, and why it mattered to him.
That kind of statement requires revealing something personal.
Bluntness talks about others. Directness reveals you.
Bluntness talks about someone else. Directness reveals something about you.
And that’s when something clicked for me: if you don’t feel some vulnerability when you’re being direct, you probably aren’t being direct.
The most direct thing you can say is what’s happening inside you — what you feel, what you want, what matters to you. But saying those things requires something most of us instinctively avoid: letting ourselves be known.
“Are we there yet?”
This pattern shows up everywhere. In Difficult Conversations, the authors share a familiar example: a child in the back seat of a car asking,
“Are we there yet?”
The question isn’t really about distance. In fact, they already know the answer. A more direct version might sound like:
I feel bored.
I’m hungry.
I wish we were there already.
Asking a question we don’t have feels safer. And many of us never grow out of that habit. Instead of expressing directly what we feel, want, or need, we communicate indirectly — through questions, judgments, and sarcasm.
You can hear it in everyday conversations:
“Do you have to drive so fast!?”
What might actually be underneath that is something much simpler:
I’m feeling nervous.
I want you to drive at the speed limit.
Saying what you think about someone else may feel honest. But the most honest thing you can say is what you feel.
The leaders people trust most are not the ones who say the harshest truths. They’re the ones who reveal the truth about what matters to them.
The question worth sitting with
So if you’re someone who prides yourself on being direct, there’s a question worth sitting with.
When you “tell it like it is”… are you revealing what’s happening inside you — or just telling someone what you think about them?
