You notice the thing.
You decide it is not worth saying.
You offer the smoother version instead, or say nothing at all, and the day goes on.
Do that for years, and eventually the incompletion is no longer only with them. It is with you.
That is the quiet version. The loud version is the one you already know about. You try to say something that matters and it does not land. Sometimes your words are dismissed. Sometimes they are contradicted. Worse, they may be distorted and used against you.
Whatever form it takes, the result is the same. Frustration and hurt from the past continue to occupy the present.
I call that an incompletion. An unresolved experience from the past that keeps affecting you long after the relationship, or the moment itself, is over.
This happens in nearly every relationship. But when it happens repeatedly, trust begins to erode. You can no longer relate to the other person as they are in the present, because part of you is still trapped in the moment when you were not heard. If that continues for too long, you may begin to shut down. Eventually you stop communicating altogether.
The first chapter of my book is about what that costs over years. Twenty-eight minutes, read in my own voice.
SEND ME CHAPTER ONEPrinciple #1: Unacknowledged thoughts and feelings keep us stuck in the past and prevent us from fully connecting in the present.
Mine was a long-term working partnership that went sour.
We ran a yoga studio together. In the beginning we shared a strong connection and many profound conversations. That began to change when I suggested creating a contract that would define the financial split if either of us ever wanted to leave the partnership. My business partner became angry and accused me of being greedy. Trust broke down, and the connection between us began to disappear.
We tried to repair it, but each new misunderstanding seemed to deepen the divide. Eventually I reached a tipping point and ended the partnership, even though doing so meant giving up my ownership of the studio.
The relationship ended. The conflict did not end inside me. I was still angry. I still felt misunderstood. I believed my former partner had twisted my words and used them against me. The conversation had never reached a true resolution.
Principle #2: Misunderstandings breed mistrust.
When we feel that we are not getting through to someone, we usually respond in one of two ways. We confront or we withdraw. Some of us raise our voices, repeat ourselves, or become increasingly insistent. Others avoid the conflict, pretend nothing is wrong, and hope the problem will disappear on its own.
Neither response resolves the underlying incompletion.
If we keep trying to make ourselves understood and the other person still does not seem willing or able to hear us, we eventually become exhausted. We start censoring ourselves. We hold back what we really think. Or we stop communicating entirely.
Not every misunderstanding is a crisis. But even small moments of being ignored or misread can accumulate. We all want to feel understood, especially by the people closest to us. When someone repeatedly cannot, or will not, see our point of view, trusting them becomes difficult. Silence begins to feel safer than risking another rejection.
When this happens with a partner, family member, or close friend, the damage can become profound. Left unresolved, it can cause the relationship itself to collapse.
Principle #3: Incompletions distort our perception.
When we feel misunderstood, our view of the other person begins to change. Their flaws grow larger in our minds while their good qualities recede. We exaggerate their negative traits and overlook the qualities that once drew us to them. Gradually, we stop seeing the whole person and begin seeing only the source of our pain.
That is what happened with my business partner. In my mind, she went from being a trusted colleague and friend to “a crazy lady with a personality disorder.”
That distortion is one reason incompletions are so difficult to heal. The relationship may continue under the weight of that frustration, or it may come to an unhappy end. We may even move on and find someone new, hoping to leave the problem behind, only to discover the same pattern emerging again.
Principle #4: Pain that is acknowledged and felt can heal; pain that is ignored festers.
We can begin recognizing incompletions by paying attention to how our relationships feel. When something seems off, when there is tension, distance, or a persistent sense that something is not quite right, an incompletion may be present. We can also look back across our relationships and ask whether any important misunderstandings remain unresolved.
Once we recognize one, we have to be honest about its effect on us. That means allowing ourselves to acknowledge and feel the pain beneath it. This can be difficult, particularly when we have already shut down or disconnected from the person involved. But ignoring these feelings does not make them disappear. They remain hidden in the mind and body, weighing us down, dimming our spirits, and clouding our clarity.
When we are willing to confront them, something begins to open. We can start to understand what we were trying to say that the other person could not receive. We may also begin to recognize what they were trying to express that we could not hear.
Principle #5: To repair a relationship, we must be willing to listen first.
Repair requires someone to break the stalemate.
Counterintuitively, that may mean temporarily setting aside our own hurt and frustration so we can listen to the other person. We might begin by saying:
“Okay. I’m willing to listen. Can you tell me again what I haven’t been hearing?”
When we feel misunderstood and hurt, distancing ourselves from the person who caused the pain is a natural response. But if we want to resolve an incompletion, the first and often most difficult step is becoming willing to hear the other person, even when they have not yet been willing to hear us.
This does not mean denying our experience or pretending our pain does not matter. It means creating enough space for the other person to express the assumptions, disappointments, and feelings they have been carrying.
Principle #6: Take a step back and see the situation from the other person’s point of view.
To move beyond an incompletion, we have to become curious about the other person’s perspective, even when it feels uncomfortable and even when we disagree.
Understanding is not the same as agreeing. We do not have to adopt their interpretation or abandon our own. But we do have to acknowledge that their perspective makes sense within the context of their history, experiences, and understanding of the world.
When we invite someone to tell us what we have previously rejected or deflected, we are attempting to step into their shoes. We are trying to see how the circumstances appeared from where they stood and how their experience emerged from the life they had lived. We are not listening merely to their words. We are listening for the world beneath them.
Principle #7: Completing the past allows us to fully embrace the present.
An incompletion begins to dissolve when we sense that the other person understands our experience. The nagging feeling that something remains unresolved begins to disappear. We no longer feel that the person does not understand us, or does not care enough to try. In that moment we are no longer trapped in the past.
Melissa becomes upset when she feels that household responsibilities are not being shared equally. Sometimes she expresses that frustration through criticism or shame. When that happens, I become resistant to hearing her perspective or acknowledging her feelings. But when Melissa can understand the deeper impact of her words, and the emotional history those words activate in me, something changes between us. I feel understood, which makes me more receptive to understanding what she needs from me.
When we feel understood, the impulse to understand the other person often arises on its own. We become less invested in proving that we are right and more interested in their experience.
But somebody has to begin. Somebody has to create the opportunity for the other person to empty out everything they have been carrying. That move may feel counterintuitive, and it can generate profound relief.
I wrote a book about that. I’m Chad Herst, a coach and licensed acupuncturist (LAc) in San Francisco.
The first chapter is twenty-eight minutes long, read in my own voice. Enter your name and email, and I’ll send it to you.
SEND ME CHAPTER ONEFifteen minutes with one moment of your own.
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