Why fixing is kryptonite to our friendships

If we’re having coffee together and you share a struggle or a hurt, here’s my MO:  listen, nod my head, and then give you 12 ideas to solve your “problem.” Then I’d text you three different podcast episodes to listen to. We’d finish our lattes, and I’d walk away from our conversation all proud of myself that your world is now devoid of issues due to my fantastic advice and loving counsel.

Blergh.

As an Achiever, someone who leans more on herself and less on the God of amazing grace, I am a natural problem-solver. I default to fixing, which can be kryptonite to a friendship.

Fixing is my jam… and it’s a problem.

I love to fix things because I love being the expert and I truly believe that I understand the nuances of all life issues. Plus, I’m not super good with tears, so it’s easier to address the issue at hand than it is to deal with emotions.

But my tendency to “fix” has two hang-ups:
1. Fixing puffs me up with pride. When I attempt to fix others, I put myself in the position of “helper” and the other person in the position of “help-ee,” which makes for an imbalanced relationship. Instead of being a friend, I become the rescuer, ergo superior. In reality, we are both broken souls connecting through grace.
2. Fixing deflates you because you weren’t heard. In the times that someone has tried to fix my situation without hearing my heart, I felt unheard and emotionally overlooked. Harriet Lerner writes in The Dance of Connection, “Listening well is at the heart of intimacy and connection,” which means that the opposite is true: poor listening is at the heart of distance and disconnection.

Hearing the heart of another creates stronger friendships.

As Jesus prepared his 11-man team for His death, He told them that, “A little while, and you will no longer behold Me; and again a little while, and you will see Me.” (John 16:16) This has His disciples super confused, so they start talking amongst themselves.

Jesus knows they want to ask Him what He’s talking about, so He says, “Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.” (John 16:20)

Okay, I don’t know about you, but this response doesn’t seem to answer any of their questions.

But notice what Jesus is doing: yes, they have a fact-based question, but behind their search for facts is grief. Their friend, the man they gave up everything to follow and have been with for three years, has just told them that He’s going away. Their grief must have been palpable.

Jesus knew that before more information could be given and received, their emotions had to be acknowledged first.

It reminds me of what Brené Brown wrote in Rising Strong, “People with strong relationships, deep connections, who are creative nurturers with a strong faith, recognize the power of emotion and they’re not afraid to lean into discomfort.”

Jesus didn’t back away from the emotion—He leaned into it. He addressed their sadness before He gave them more data. Achievers, God gave us emotions to gauge the state of our heart and soul, so Jesus knew their gauge was pointing to empty and grief-stricken. He didn’t try to solve or “fix” their sadness. Instead, He met them where they were.

Leaning into emotion and away from fixing makes us better.

1. We become better friends when we don’t shy away from the emotions of others. Our friends don’t need to be fixed. They need to be heard, loved, and cared for first.
2. We become more like Jesus when we understand that we are to start with the emotions and end with facts, solutions, and strategy. Feelings and people are messy. Analyzed solutions are neat. But friends, let’s be like Jesus and enter into the mess.

Achievers, let’s be empathetic people who watch tears fall and cry too. Let’s be the ones who hear the anguish on the phone and respond with grace and hope. Let’s be the friends who hear the question and grief behind the question, the ones who sense doubt and discouragement and offer listening ears instead of easy fixes.

So the next time we go out for coffee, I promise to lay off the problem-solving ideas and the podcast suggestions. I promise to listen to your hurts and struggles and to feel the emotions with you. After all, nothing strengthens a friendship quite like shedding a few tears over caffeine and sugar.