The Broken Glass We Look Through: Why Communication Is Hard, and Why It Matters

In this post

In this post, we explore how unspoken pain and past experiences distort our perception, often causing us to misread others' words and intentions.

You'll learn:

• Why assumptions feel safer than asking

• How past wounds create "cracks in the glass" of our perception

• What happens when we view others through the lens of our own trauma

• Three key truths that can change the way we communicate

• A simple practice to bring clarity when you're triggered

Whether you’ve lost connection through silence or want to deepen your relationships, this post invites you to pause, reflect, and speak more courageously, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Today I got a rough reminder of something I thought I already knew:

Communication matters. A lot.

It’s easy to say that, but living it is something else entirely. Because communication isn’t just about speaking, it’s about understanding.

And more than anything, it’s about being brave enough to ask instead of assuming.

How misunderstandings shape our lives

Most of us have lived through more than a few heartbreaks:

• Friendships that faded

• Relationships that cracked

• Family dynamics that bent us into silence.

If you’ve been through pain, chances are, you see the world through it.

That pain doesn’t just vanish. It stays in the body, the mind, the nervous system, and it changes how we hear, see, and interpret the people around us.

Imagine we all look at the world through glass. Every wound we’ve ever had is a crack in that glass.

The more cracks, the harder it becomes to see things clearly.

A neutral comment from someone might hit like a gut punch, not because they were cruel, but because years ago, someone else said something similar, and it broke you.

And now, even if the words are different, the feeling is the same.

You flinch. You shut down. You fill in the blanks based on old stories. And you believe them, because they feel familiar.

Why we assume: a trauma-informed look

We assume things because it feels safer than not knowing.

• If you grew up never knowing what kind of mood someone would be in,

• If your needs were consistently ignored,

• If asking for clarity meant conflict or rejection, then assuming became a survival skill.

It gave you control and it helped you to prepare for the worst.

Here’s the catch:

What once kept you safe, now might be keeping you stuck. Are you stuck?

A simple misunderstanding or a whole story built from wounds?

Someone tells you they don’t feel like both people’s needs are being met.

If you're like me, and you’ve lived most of your life in relationships where your needs were invisible or inconvenient, you might immediately assume you’re the problem.

They must mean I’m not enough. That I’ve failed. That I’ve been selfish.

You run the memory reel on repeat:

"Did I say something wrong? Was I distant? Did I disappoint them somehow?" And because you’ve seen everything through that cracked glass for so long, you don’t even consider the possibility that maybe they were talking about your needs not theirs.

Maybe they were trying to say:

"I don’t feel like your needs are being heard."

You never heard that.

All you heard was: "You’ve failed me."

How many months, or years, have we lost to things we never actually said out loud?

How many relationships have quietly fallen apart because both people thought they knew what the other meant, but neither dared to ask?

I’ve spent months spiraling inside my head about something that could’ve been cleared up in a single conversation, with a one single question.

Months of blame, disconnection, and trying to “figure out what went wrong.”

When I finally asked, when I spoke up, I found out I had misunderstood everything.

Completely.

Not just a little. Completely.

Three truths that can change the way we relate

Let me offer you this, not as advice, but as something to sit with:

1. Assumption is a trauma response. Not a flaw.

You assume because you’re trying to protect yourself from pain. That’s human. That’s survival.

But sometimes protection turns into isolation.

2. You have the right to clarity.

You are allowed to ask:

• "What did you mean by that?"

• "Can I check if I understood you right?"

• "I’m feeling confused, can we talk about it?"

These aren’t arguments. They’re signs of someone who wants truth more than ego.

3. Your perception is valid, but it’s not always accurate.

You can feel deeply hurt by something and still find out later that it wasn’t meant that way.

Both can be true.

Pain is real. So is misunderstanding.

Practice: When you're triggered, try this

Next time something someone says makes your stomach drop or your mind spiral, pause.

Instead of assuming:

• Ask yourself: What am I making this mean?

• Then ask: Is that actually what they said?

• Finally, ask them: “Can I ask what you meant by that? I want to make sure I didn’t misinterpret.”

It sounds simple, but if you’re not used to doing it, it will feel terrifying.

That’s okay. That’s part of the process.

Your voice matters. Your truth matters.

I’m not going to pretend this is easy. Speaking your truth, asking the uncomfortable question, being the one who says "Hey, can we talk about this?", it takes courage.

Especially if you’ve been trained by life to keep the peace or stay small.

Here's what I'm learning, slowly, again and again:

It’s better to have a hard five-minute conversation than to lose someone to six months of silence.

Don’t lose people to silence

I don’t want to lose people because I was too afraid to ask.

Too afraid to speak.

Too afraid to clear the fog that wasn’t even mine.

If something feels off, say it. If something hurts, name it. If something is unclear, ask.

The cost of misunderstanding is too high.

Connection, real, raw, healing connection, lives on the other side of truth.

Even when our voices shake.

Even when our glasses are cracked.

Especially, when our glasses are cracked.

Conclusion

The longer we stay silent, the deeper the stories grow.

Misunderstandings fester when we don't name them. And too often, the relationships we value most slip away, not because of what was said, but because of what was never said.

Assumptions are not facts.

Silence is not safety.

Truth, even when messy, creates the kind of connection that heals.

So next time you find yourself spiraling in your head, take a breath, and speak.

You might just find that what you feared was never even there.

Want to take this further?

Here’s a journaling question to sit with today:

"What’s one thing I’ve assumed recently that I could ask about instead?"

If this post resonated with you, consider sharing it with someone you’ve misunderstood or someone who’s misunderstood you. Sometimes, one honest message can bring months of silence to an end.

Let’s start talking, for real.

In case no one has told you, I’m proud of you!

Mari

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Disclaimer:

This blog does not offer medical, psychological, or nutritional advice. I am not a certified professional. I simply share personal experiences, insights, and observations.

The content is not intended to replace professional assessment, therapy, or treatment. It is each reader’s responsibility to evaluate whether the information resonates or applies to their own situation, and to make independent decisions accordingly. I always encourage critical thinking and exploring multiple sources.

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