Sometimes he looks at me like I’m speaking Korean.
Now this might be a reasonable assumption based on my appearance, if we were in Korea, or I was actually speaking Korean. On the contrary, I’m a secret Caucasian in a Korean’s body, we live in the heart of the South, and the words “an young ha se yo” did not come out of my mouth.
My line of work demands that I be a clear, concise communicator, with words, graphics and in speech. How is it that I can perform my job so well, and be terribly awful at those skills (at times) when it comes to my relationships.
One could argue that not only does the communication within personal relationships require careful word choice, but also attention to inflection, tone, body language, facial expression and timing. While these factors are included in every day communication at work, our emotions are entangled and affected at home to a much higher degree. We are more ourselves.
It’s a wonder how you can be so close to another person and yet feel like they are speaking another language.
Or from another perspective, the times we understand each other could be viewed as momentous occasions due to our different backgrounds, genders, ethnicities, experiences, personalities and heights. Maybe the words get lost within our span difference of eight inches, like emails sent into cyberspace that never make it to their recipients.
Usually, I try very much so to say exactly what I mean. No hidden agendas or tricky word play. Even then, there are times when we tilt our heads and gaze at each other like confused Cocker Spaniels.
No matter what it is, we’ll keep trying.
I just might have to stand on a step stool.