The Exclamation point
My sister has the worst poker face ever. If she was looking over my shoulder right now reading this, her mouth would say “what??” but her face would say “busted!” I was lucky enough to have her in the delivery room with me for the birth of my second son. She was just as you’d imagine she’d be - attentive, loving, calming, present. During the course of my labor, the nurse was re-positioning me and my water broke, to which I (calmly…thank you, epidural!) said “oh, I think my water just broke!” I looked at my sister, who continued to say calming words with her mouth, but through a tight smile, and with saucer-sized eyes. She hadn’t expected all of…this. Her poker face gave away what the voice inside her was screaming - “What in the hell am I seeing??”
We depend on communication to stay connected, to be in the know, to understand and to empathize. But, face-to-face, we don’t just get the words, we also get the gestures and facial expressions and body postures. The nonverbals tell the bigger story because sometimes, like in the case of my sister’s terrible poker face, they don’t always match what is being said. Prior to the pandemic, we had already shifted from communication in-person to electronic communication. E-mail (for us older peeps) and texts had long ago replaced long, intimate conversations on the phone. Who remembers laying on the floor of your bedroom, talking to your bestie, and wrapping the telephone cord around your legs, arms, hands, fingers? Those days are gone (and not just because corded phones no longer exist, but I digress). In fact, in the off chance you do decide to call someone, inevitably they won’t answer, and you DON’T DARE leave a voicemail. You follow-up with a text and resort back to the comfiness of electronic communication.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the feasibility of receiving a text. I can respond when it’s convenient, taking my time to think about what I want to say. But that’s all there is…words on a screen. Maybe there’s a few emoji’s or “lol’s” or “jk’s”, but there’s nothing beyond the words. Or is there?
Let me tell you a story. A few months ago I made plans with a dear friend to spend the afternoon together. The night before, I confirmed the time/place. Her response was brief, but essentially said she needed to cancel. It wasn’t so much what she said that struck me, but the way she ended what she said…with an exclamation point. She’s not an “exclamation point” kind of friend, so something seemed off. Instead of following my gut feeling, I turned it around and made it about me - “she’s mad at me”, “she doesn’t want to spend time with me.” I was looking so forward to spending time with her, that I allowed my hurt to cloud her message. When we saw each other several months later, imagine my shame and heartbreak when she said, “I have been at an all-time low. I’m so depressed.” Because I KNEW. That exclamation point was her poker face, and I had blatantly ignored it. She was hurting, while I was living on my island of “Oh, woe is me.”
I don’t deny that the sender’s intended meaning is easily lost in the digital world. My Dad types in all-caps, which, to many, looks like he’s yelling, but he does it because he can see the letters better. But when someone sends something out-of-the-ordinary - suddenly uses emoji’s, types in run-on sentences, offers one word responses, etc. - it’s a red flag, a nonverbal cue, a way of saying “hey, can you look beyond what I’ve just said and focus on what I’m not saying.” We need to stop ignoring the little voice inside our head and ask the hard questions. This faceless communication isn’t going anywhere, so we need to treat it as if we are sitting right next to the person, face-to-face. Because the nonverbals are still there. We just have to look beyond the words.
