From "We Do: Saying Yes to a Relationship of Depth, True Connection, and Enduring Love" by Stan Tatkin
THE TROUBLESOME TRIAD
Memory, Perception, and Communication
Memory, Perception, and Communication
There are three main areas that cause conflict in relationships. I call them the troublesome triad—memory, perception, and communication. These areas can cause a couple to spiral into disconnection and fighting, and can undermine your couple bubble. This triad is often at the heart of both misunderstanding and threat escalation between partners. So how can we train ourselves in the areas of memory, perception, and communication so that these problem areas don’t derail what has the potential to be a rich, life-enhancing marriage? It starts with some basic knowledge.
For some time, research has warned us that our memories are unreliable, and most of us don’t understand how memory works. We fail to recognize that memory changes according to our current state of mind and therefore is misleading. Perception is yet another area of confusion unless one understands how perception is constantly being altered by both state of mind and memory. And believe it or not, verbal communication is almost always terrible; we mostly misunderstand each other. This gets compounded when what we say conflicts with our facial expressions and body language.
The point of this chapter is to understand not only yourself but all human beings—and to cut yourself and your partner a little slack.
MEMORY
Memory is rarely laid down in a contiguous fashion. It’s not like pressing record on your video camera. Not only is the record button in your brain not always on, but how you capture this information determines how it’s played back in your mind. You fill in the gaps with made-up stuff—colors, emotions, and other confabulated and embellished data.
For some time, research has warned us that our memories are unreliable, and most of us don’t understand how memory works. We fail to recognize that memory changes according to our current state of mind and therefore is misleading. Perception is yet another area of confusion unless one understands how perception is constantly being altered by both state of mind and memory. And believe it or not, verbal communication is almost always terrible; we mostly misunderstand each other. This gets compounded when what we say conflicts with our facial expressions and body language.
The point of this chapter is to understand not only yourself but all human beings—and to cut yourself and your partner a little slack.
MEMORY
Memory is rarely laid down in a contiguous fashion. It’s not like pressing record on your video camera. Not only is the record button in your brain not always on, but how you capture this information determines how it’s played back in your mind. You fill in the gaps with made-up stuff—colors, emotions, and other confabulated and embellished data.
AN IMPORTANT FORMULA
State drives memory, memory drives state, and state alters perception. As you have an experience, you capture information through a variety of sense gateways such as vision, sound, smell, taste, and touch, as well as other sensations such as temperature. How you capture this information varies according to how much sleep you have had and other factors, including your current mental and emotional state.
A state of mind is a mental or emotional condition of being in a particular situation. Mental states can be positive, negative, or neutral. The state of mind can be influenced by external factors such as environment, experiences, and moods.
State drives memory, memory drives state, and state alters perception. As you have an experience, you capture information through a variety of sense gateways such as vision, sound, smell, taste, and touch, as well as other sensations such as temperature. How you capture this information varies according to how much sleep you have had and other factors, including your current mental and emotional state.
A state of mind is a mental or emotional condition of being in a particular situation. Mental states can be positive, negative, or neutral. The state of mind can be influenced by external factors such as environment, experiences, and moods.
- Positive: The state of being happy and content with life. A sense of optimism about circumstances, self, and future potential.
- Negative: The state of feeling sad and depressed about life. A sense of pessimism about circumstances, self, and future potential.
- Neutral: The state of just going through the motions without really caring about external circumstances.
As I start to feel bad about myself, I remember what I have to feel bad about. I start to notice people avoiding eye contact with me or not smiling and voilà—a totally false assumption comes together as true! Keep this in mind: You have never lived outside of your head—none of us have and never will. So it’s not “all in your head” but rather “mostly all in your head.”
Another problem is retrieval. Memory is encoded in a variety of ways: verbal, emotional, contextual, somatic (body experience), and so on. If you’re paying attention, the experience you capture goes into short-term memory, which doesn’t last very long. Therefore, how you record or encode the experience also determines how long it stays in memory. If that experience has lots of emotion to it or is unusual, it’s likely to go from short-term to long-term memory. Emotion, or state of mind, affects memory by changing it. In just a bit I will explain why the opposite is also true: memory will affect emotion and state of mind.
Say you have an experience that’s captured in memory. It’s already different from the actual experience because it contains confabulations and embellishments. Now, when you practice re-memory, you change the memory based on how you feel in the moment. This is compounded because your “remembering” alters memory with each retelling. Here’s the thing: our memory is closely connected to our sense of self, which is why losing our memory affects who we think we are. When someone challenges your memory, it can feel as if they’re challenging who you are, which is why some couples are willing to fight “to the death.” Can you see how easy it would be to argue about a shared experience? Once you have a deeper understanding of how memory works, you may not be so insistent that you’re right.
When we get upset—and I mean really aroused, such as when we feel threatened—that record button in our brain stops working properly. The hippocampus, a part of our limbic system located in both sides of the temporal lobe, is mostly responsible for this as well as for short-term memory, which records experience based on place, context, and sequence. Without our hippocampus, we can’t form new memories, find things, or put experiences into sequence and context.
This happened to Barney and Betty.
Barney: Last week, at Fred and Wilma’s house, Fred told Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm that I wasn’t coming to the Christmas party even though you and I hadn’t talked about it yet. I’m really mad.
Betty: Wait a second. That wasn’t last week. And it wasn’t at Fred and Wilma’s house. You’re talking about what happened two weeks ago at Pebbles’s engagement party. Fred and Wilma were there.
Barney : You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t go to Pebbles’s engagement party because I was with Bamm-Bamm.
Betty: You’re such an idiot! I told you. You have attention deficit disorder. You can’t even remember where you left your club.
This kind of exchange is typical. Betty and Barney likely experienced an event where they were emotionally overwhelmed. Neither encoded the experience exactly as it happened but rather from their own completely objective point of view, and thus they’re unable to accurately sequence and contextualize the experience. Plus, they’re both confused about where this occurred. What would be the solution to such a problem? Betty and Barney would be better off if they gave up trying to win the argument over whose memory is correct. Instead, they could just fix the misunderstanding and any hurt feelings and move on.
Barney: Maybe you’re right. Who knows? I just hate it when you don’t check with me before making plans.
Betty: You’re right. I should have checked in with you. I’m sorry, honey.
Done.,
Our memory isn’t what we think it is, and both people in a partnership need to own this truth. It’s not worth fighting over unless you’re trying to remember where you buried the treasure. Otherwise, you’re fighting over something that’s outside your control, impersonal, unintentional, and simply part of the fallibility of the human brain.
Another problem is retrieval. Memory is encoded in a variety of ways: verbal, emotional, contextual, somatic (body experience), and so on. If you’re paying attention, the experience you capture goes into short-term memory, which doesn’t last very long. Therefore, how you record or encode the experience also determines how long it stays in memory. If that experience has lots of emotion to it or is unusual, it’s likely to go from short-term to long-term memory. Emotion, or state of mind, affects memory by changing it. In just a bit I will explain why the opposite is also true: memory will affect emotion and state of mind.
Say you have an experience that’s captured in memory. It’s already different from the actual experience because it contains confabulations and embellishments. Now, when you practice re-memory, you change the memory based on how you feel in the moment. This is compounded because your “remembering” alters memory with each retelling. Here’s the thing: our memory is closely connected to our sense of self, which is why losing our memory affects who we think we are. When someone challenges your memory, it can feel as if they’re challenging who you are, which is why some couples are willing to fight “to the death.” Can you see how easy it would be to argue about a shared experience? Once you have a deeper understanding of how memory works, you may not be so insistent that you’re right.
When we get upset—and I mean really aroused, such as when we feel threatened—that record button in our brain stops working properly. The hippocampus, a part of our limbic system located in both sides of the temporal lobe, is mostly responsible for this as well as for short-term memory, which records experience based on place, context, and sequence. Without our hippocampus, we can’t form new memories, find things, or put experiences into sequence and context.
This happened to Barney and Betty.
Barney: Last week, at Fred and Wilma’s house, Fred told Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm that I wasn’t coming to the Christmas party even though you and I hadn’t talked about it yet. I’m really mad.
Betty: Wait a second. That wasn’t last week. And it wasn’t at Fred and Wilma’s house. You’re talking about what happened two weeks ago at Pebbles’s engagement party. Fred and Wilma were there.
Barney : You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t go to Pebbles’s engagement party because I was with Bamm-Bamm.
Betty: You’re such an idiot! I told you. You have attention deficit disorder. You can’t even remember where you left your club.
This kind of exchange is typical. Betty and Barney likely experienced an event where they were emotionally overwhelmed. Neither encoded the experience exactly as it happened but rather from their own completely objective point of view, and thus they’re unable to accurately sequence and contextualize the experience. Plus, they’re both confused about where this occurred. What would be the solution to such a problem? Betty and Barney would be better off if they gave up trying to win the argument over whose memory is correct. Instead, they could just fix the misunderstanding and any hurt feelings and move on.
Barney: Maybe you’re right. Who knows? I just hate it when you don’t check with me before making plans.
Betty: You’re right. I should have checked in with you. I’m sorry, honey.
Done.,
Our memory isn’t what we think it is, and both people in a partnership need to own this truth. It’s not worth fighting over unless you’re trying to remember where you buried the treasure. Otherwise, you’re fighting over something that’s outside your control, impersonal, unintentional, and simply part of the fallibility of the human brain.
PERCEPTION
Perception is like a funhouse mirror. It isn’t at all what you think. Your perceptions are constantly being altered by your state of mind, which is being altered by your memory, and vice versa. What you think you hear may not actually be what you “hear.” What you see may not actually be what you “see.” The same with smell, taste, and touch—all of the senses will be altered by memory and arousal state.
Terry had a bad day at work. She came home and saw Paul relaxing on the couch. As she put her things down she asked Paul if he had fed the cat and changed the kitty litter. Paul lazily responded, “Of course.” Terry had caught a glance of Paul’s expression and took umbrage immediately.
Terry: Why the attitude?
Paul: What do you mean? What attitude? I said yes.
Terry: You said it with a mean tone and you looked angry.
Paul: No, I didn’t!
Of course, Paul can’t possibly know what his face looked like or what his voice sounded like. However, let’s imagine that his face was neutral and his tone was without “attitude.” If that’s true, then what did Terry hear and see? She was already primed by her state of mind after a day in the office dealing with some difficult employees, one of whom had a very bad attitude. People were angry with her, and she with them. When she entered her home and saw Paul lounging on the couch, her brain was already primed, and so she saw an angry face and heard a negative tone of voice. She trusted her perceptions. We make these kinds of mistakes more than we realize, but that’s not the problem. It’s that we unequivocally believe our perceptions and memories.
Even if Paul really did look angry and had "attitude," is it important to get him to admit it? Probably not. Rather than do that it would be more effective for Terry to check in with Paul to see if if really is angry with her. Then it would be up to Paul to reassure her that he isn't angry or if he is, to let her know how he is feeling.
Perception is like a funhouse mirror. It isn’t at all what you think. Your perceptions are constantly being altered by your state of mind, which is being altered by your memory, and vice versa. What you think you hear may not actually be what you “hear.” What you see may not actually be what you “see.” The same with smell, taste, and touch—all of the senses will be altered by memory and arousal state.
Terry had a bad day at work. She came home and saw Paul relaxing on the couch. As she put her things down she asked Paul if he had fed the cat and changed the kitty litter. Paul lazily responded, “Of course.” Terry had caught a glance of Paul’s expression and took umbrage immediately.
Terry: Why the attitude?
Paul: What do you mean? What attitude? I said yes.
Terry: You said it with a mean tone and you looked angry.
Paul: No, I didn’t!
Of course, Paul can’t possibly know what his face looked like or what his voice sounded like. However, let’s imagine that his face was neutral and his tone was without “attitude.” If that’s true, then what did Terry hear and see? She was already primed by her state of mind after a day in the office dealing with some difficult employees, one of whom had a very bad attitude. People were angry with her, and she with them. When she entered her home and saw Paul lounging on the couch, her brain was already primed, and so she saw an angry face and heard a negative tone of voice. She trusted her perceptions. We make these kinds of mistakes more than we realize, but that’s not the problem. It’s that we unequivocally believe our perceptions and memories.
Even if Paul really did look angry and had "attitude," is it important to get him to admit it? Probably not. Rather than do that it would be more effective for Terry to check in with Paul to see if if really is angry with her. Then it would be up to Paul to reassure her that he isn't angry or if he is, to let her know how he is feeling.
COMMUNICATION
As a teacher and therapist, I get into lots of trouble with language. It’s not so much that I misuse it, at least not intentionally, but rather that words mean different things to different people. For example, when I introduce the term "couple bubble" or the phrase "managing your partner", my students will challenge my word choice, even suggesting that I use dangerous words and phrases—something entirely different from my meaning. I used to feel frustrated, even ashamed, that my words were taken out of context or interpreted as hurtful. But I understand that misinterpreting language is a universal problem.
As a teacher and therapist, I get into lots of trouble with language. It’s not so much that I misuse it, at least not intentionally, but rather that words mean different things to different people. For example, when I introduce the term "couple bubble" or the phrase "managing your partner", my students will challenge my word choice, even suggesting that I use dangerous words and phrases—something entirely different from my meaning. I used to feel frustrated, even ashamed, that my words were taken out of context or interpreted as hurtful. But I understand that misinterpreting language is a universal problem.
It reminds me of principles of speaking and listening, such as those put forth by British philosopher of language Paul Grice and Princeton professor and psychologist George Miller.
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Grice’s maxim suggests the speaker be collaborative and coherent with the listener by remaining concise, to the point, relevant, and truthful. In all cases the speaker should make it easy for the listener to follow.
Grice's Maxims
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Miller’s law concerns the listener, who should assume that what the speaker is saying is true and must work to determine what the speaker means to convey.
Miller's Law
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Unfortunately, we don't tend to take the time to practice these rules of speech and listening. We also believe we’re being clear, heard, and understood. And that hardly happens. Even when we’re listening, we’re misunderstanding the speaker to a large extent. It’s not all due to laziness or inattentiveness.
Since we are what we know and what we’ve experienced, new information will naturally be incorporated into our current framework. When attempting to learn something new, I’m going to understand it within the context of what I already know. This process is called assimilation, a term popularized by cognitive theorist Jean Piaget. Assimilation is far easier than another process called accommodation, whereby I must fundamentally change my way of thinking about new information in order to understand it. The need to accommodate always causes more distress and confusion. When discussing ideas or personal perspectives with one another, we naturally attempt to understand what the other means through our own lens. This may sound too obvious a notion, yet the amount of effort needed to interpret what’s true is often too much for partners, so it’s as if they’re talking in different languages to each other. It’s hard to understand something outside of our personal experience and knowledge.
Additionally, we only ever approximate each other’s minds. It’s likely that we’re rarely, if ever, on the same page exactly, even when we think we understand each other. It’s highly likely that any interaction is fraught with errors and misunderstandings. So why don’t we complain more often? Because when we feel good about ourselves or each other, we fill in blanks with things that are positive; we make accommodations, we cut each other slack, and, more importantly, we think we understand. But when we don’t feel very good about ourselves or each other, our memories and perceptions change, and the communication mistakes can radically increase. So many times I see partners arguing about two different things without even knowing it. That’s how easy it is for communication to go off the rails.
Here’s an example.
Brad and Amy are getting ready for bed. They have a ritual where they watch a TV show every night, and tonight, for Amy at least, is no different. Brad, on the other hand, is overly tired and is signaling that he wants to be asleep. His eyes are closed, and his hands and arms are at his sides.
Amy: [tickling Brad’s body, trying to get his attention] Let’s watch our show.
Brad: [smiling and giggling because of Amy’s tickling] Mmm. Um. Hmm.
Amy: Come on! I’m ready to watch the show.
Brad: Honey, I’m so tired.
Amy: This will wake you up.
Brad: [continues to make moaning sounds]
Amy: Come on. I’m turning it on. [Amy gets up out of bed to turn on the TV.]
Brad: Sweetheart, I really want to go to sleep.
Amy: [makes an exaggerated sad face] But we always watch the show together.
Brad: You can watch it alone tonight. It’s okay. [There’s a long silence.
Brad’s eyes are closed. Amy is sitting up with her upper lip tucked into her lower lip, thinking and staring at Brad.]
Amy: Okay. Go to sleep. [short pause] Could you turn off the light?
Brad: [He doesn’t respond except for a muted moan.]
Amy: Turn off the light.
Brad: Honey, I’m trying to fall asleep. You turn off the light.
Amy: But it’s right next to you.
Brad: No, it’s not! Come on, honey. If you want it off, turn it off yourself. [Brad turns his back to Amy and tries to sleep.]
Amy sits there fuming. She believes Brad is punishing her. As Brad lies on his side, he thinks Amy is punishing him for not watching TV with her. In a couple of hours, she wakes up furious and hits Brad on the arm to wake him. This event gains momentum, creating a downward spiral. Neither Brad nor Amy say goodbye to the other as they leave for work in the morning, and they’re left to deal with the hurt and resentment that following evening.
Now here’s what actually happened. Brad, who tends to avoid conflict, has a hard time telling Amy that he wants to sleep and not watch TV. Fearing she will be unhappy with this boundary, he pretends to go to sleep while smiling as she tickles him. His reaction sends a confusing message to Amy. Instead of letting her know he’s too tired to watch TV, he gives her the impression that he could be cajoled out of his sleepiness. He continues the charade until he’s forced to tell her that he wants to sleep. Keeping his eyes closed and not looking at her has a dismissive effect on Amy, who doesn’t like to feel blown off. Though disappointed, Amy feels threatened by Brad’s body stiffness and closed eyes. (Note the body language.) Rather than talk about this, she simply says “Okay” and withdraws. Brad then turns his back to Amy, further making her feel disregarded, dismissed, and abandoned. Amy’s annoyance begins to escalate inside. Now she wants the light turned off. Believing that Brad is actually closest to the light switch, she asks him to turn it off, thinking it’s the least he could do. Brad, upon hearing this request, believes Amy is angry with him and is passive-aggressively expecting him to turn off the light even after he has “showed” her that he’s tired. Brad is thinking, “How inconsiderate. Amy is trying to punish me again.” Feeling angry himself, Brad has a hard time falling asleep and instead rehearses in his mind all the things he’d like to say to Amy but dares not express them. As she watches the TV show, the light still on, Amy has her own angry thoughts. “What an asshole. His unwillingness to turn off the light is confirmation that he’s distancing from me.”
If one were to look back, one would see that Brad has a history of feeling intruded upon by his mother. He’s very sensitive to demands being made on him. Amy has a history of being abandoned and ignored by her father. Both are reliving those experiences, and both are reenacting their worst fears from their family histories. It’s no surprise when everything comes to a head and one of them explodes.
Since we are what we know and what we’ve experienced, new information will naturally be incorporated into our current framework. When attempting to learn something new, I’m going to understand it within the context of what I already know. This process is called assimilation, a term popularized by cognitive theorist Jean Piaget. Assimilation is far easier than another process called accommodation, whereby I must fundamentally change my way of thinking about new information in order to understand it. The need to accommodate always causes more distress and confusion. When discussing ideas or personal perspectives with one another, we naturally attempt to understand what the other means through our own lens. This may sound too obvious a notion, yet the amount of effort needed to interpret what’s true is often too much for partners, so it’s as if they’re talking in different languages to each other. It’s hard to understand something outside of our personal experience and knowledge.
Additionally, we only ever approximate each other’s minds. It’s likely that we’re rarely, if ever, on the same page exactly, even when we think we understand each other. It’s highly likely that any interaction is fraught with errors and misunderstandings. So why don’t we complain more often? Because when we feel good about ourselves or each other, we fill in blanks with things that are positive; we make accommodations, we cut each other slack, and, more importantly, we think we understand. But when we don’t feel very good about ourselves or each other, our memories and perceptions change, and the communication mistakes can radically increase. So many times I see partners arguing about two different things without even knowing it. That’s how easy it is for communication to go off the rails.
Here’s an example.
Brad and Amy are getting ready for bed. They have a ritual where they watch a TV show every night, and tonight, for Amy at least, is no different. Brad, on the other hand, is overly tired and is signaling that he wants to be asleep. His eyes are closed, and his hands and arms are at his sides.
Amy: [tickling Brad’s body, trying to get his attention] Let’s watch our show.
Brad: [smiling and giggling because of Amy’s tickling] Mmm. Um. Hmm.
Amy: Come on! I’m ready to watch the show.
Brad: Honey, I’m so tired.
Amy: This will wake you up.
Brad: [continues to make moaning sounds]
Amy: Come on. I’m turning it on. [Amy gets up out of bed to turn on the TV.]
Brad: Sweetheart, I really want to go to sleep.
Amy: [makes an exaggerated sad face] But we always watch the show together.
Brad: You can watch it alone tonight. It’s okay. [There’s a long silence.
Brad’s eyes are closed. Amy is sitting up with her upper lip tucked into her lower lip, thinking and staring at Brad.]
Amy: Okay. Go to sleep. [short pause] Could you turn off the light?
Brad: [He doesn’t respond except for a muted moan.]
Amy: Turn off the light.
Brad: Honey, I’m trying to fall asleep. You turn off the light.
Amy: But it’s right next to you.
Brad: No, it’s not! Come on, honey. If you want it off, turn it off yourself. [Brad turns his back to Amy and tries to sleep.]
Amy sits there fuming. She believes Brad is punishing her. As Brad lies on his side, he thinks Amy is punishing him for not watching TV with her. In a couple of hours, she wakes up furious and hits Brad on the arm to wake him. This event gains momentum, creating a downward spiral. Neither Brad nor Amy say goodbye to the other as they leave for work in the morning, and they’re left to deal with the hurt and resentment that following evening.
Now here’s what actually happened. Brad, who tends to avoid conflict, has a hard time telling Amy that he wants to sleep and not watch TV. Fearing she will be unhappy with this boundary, he pretends to go to sleep while smiling as she tickles him. His reaction sends a confusing message to Amy. Instead of letting her know he’s too tired to watch TV, he gives her the impression that he could be cajoled out of his sleepiness. He continues the charade until he’s forced to tell her that he wants to sleep. Keeping his eyes closed and not looking at her has a dismissive effect on Amy, who doesn’t like to feel blown off. Though disappointed, Amy feels threatened by Brad’s body stiffness and closed eyes. (Note the body language.) Rather than talk about this, she simply says “Okay” and withdraws. Brad then turns his back to Amy, further making her feel disregarded, dismissed, and abandoned. Amy’s annoyance begins to escalate inside. Now she wants the light turned off. Believing that Brad is actually closest to the light switch, she asks him to turn it off, thinking it’s the least he could do. Brad, upon hearing this request, believes Amy is angry with him and is passive-aggressively expecting him to turn off the light even after he has “showed” her that he’s tired. Brad is thinking, “How inconsiderate. Amy is trying to punish me again.” Feeling angry himself, Brad has a hard time falling asleep and instead rehearses in his mind all the things he’d like to say to Amy but dares not express them. As she watches the TV show, the light still on, Amy has her own angry thoughts. “What an asshole. His unwillingness to turn off the light is confirmation that he’s distancing from me.”
If one were to look back, one would see that Brad has a history of feeling intruded upon by his mother. He’s very sensitive to demands being made on him. Amy has a history of being abandoned and ignored by her father. Both are reliving those experiences, and both are reenacting their worst fears from their family histories. It’s no surprise when everything comes to a head and one of them explodes.
GIVING AND RECEIVING CUES AND CLUES
When it comes to communication, we give and receive many signals that are nonverbal, such as our facial expressions and body language. These cue our partner as to how we feel when they’re talking. These signals also give us clues about when it’s our turn to provide verbal feedback. This is called the signal-response system. In a very important way, the signal-response system is what makes or breaks secure attachment and a secure-functioning relationship. It affects both attachment security and arousal regulation in significant ways.
The signal-response system is first experienced during infancy, when the baby signals nonverbally to the caregiver—for example, the mother. The baby might coo or smile, and the mother responds and signals back by smiling and cooing or talking baby talk to which her baby responds, and so on. This back-and-forth between them is called the signal-response stream, and it’s rife with errors. Think of it as two separate minds trying to find each other; only in this instance, the responsibility is placed squarely on the mother. In the case of a crying baby, the mother must connect with the baby again and again to understand what she needs. She might try picking her up, feeding her, changing a wet diaper, and so on, until she reads the signal correctly. This requires a caregiver with the energy and curiosity to “locate the baby’s mind” over and over again. This interactive function is called interactive regulation (caregiver-baby-caregiver) but it begins with external regulation (caregiver to baby). In order for the caregiver to find the baby, they must allow the baby to lead much of the time. If the caregiver insists on leading, they will only find themselves.
The signal-response system is very fast and has granular components that are almost microscopic and largely faster than thought. All of these interactions are seemingly fluid until they’re not. Errors or glitches go unnoticed because these two nervous systems will automatically error-correct swiftly. However, if a series of errors repeat (a cluster of micromoments) or sustain, or if swift error correction isn’t forthcoming (a matter of milliseconds), then a subjective experience of distress will arise. This distress often appears first as anxiety, yet it can escalate rapidly and become frustration, fear, anger, and eventually threat.
When a baby signals and the response takes too long, the baby’s level of distress increases and contributes to how they will signal in the future. Failure to respond to the baby’s signals definitely has consequences. If the baby suffers a consequence for having signaled in the first place—perhaps the caregiver responds in a hostile manner—this affects how the baby will signal in the future.
We’re talking here about consistent patterns of signal-response disturbance. There’s no interaction without error. That's why it's important be aware of the error and repair the rupture. Consistent failure to error-correct, reattune, or repair the infraction can impair the child's ability to regulate in the future. These signals, or bids for connection, happen all the time between couples and when the appropriate response is missing, partners become dysregulated (out of sorts). These errors are commonly called misattuned micromoments, where partners are out of tune with each other.
When it comes to communication, we give and receive many signals that are nonverbal, such as our facial expressions and body language. These cue our partner as to how we feel when they’re talking. These signals also give us clues about when it’s our turn to provide verbal feedback. This is called the signal-response system. In a very important way, the signal-response system is what makes or breaks secure attachment and a secure-functioning relationship. It affects both attachment security and arousal regulation in significant ways.
The signal-response system is first experienced during infancy, when the baby signals nonverbally to the caregiver—for example, the mother. The baby might coo or smile, and the mother responds and signals back by smiling and cooing or talking baby talk to which her baby responds, and so on. This back-and-forth between them is called the signal-response stream, and it’s rife with errors. Think of it as two separate minds trying to find each other; only in this instance, the responsibility is placed squarely on the mother. In the case of a crying baby, the mother must connect with the baby again and again to understand what she needs. She might try picking her up, feeding her, changing a wet diaper, and so on, until she reads the signal correctly. This requires a caregiver with the energy and curiosity to “locate the baby’s mind” over and over again. This interactive function is called interactive regulation (caregiver-baby-caregiver) but it begins with external regulation (caregiver to baby). In order for the caregiver to find the baby, they must allow the baby to lead much of the time. If the caregiver insists on leading, they will only find themselves.
The signal-response system is very fast and has granular components that are almost microscopic and largely faster than thought. All of these interactions are seemingly fluid until they’re not. Errors or glitches go unnoticed because these two nervous systems will automatically error-correct swiftly. However, if a series of errors repeat (a cluster of micromoments) or sustain, or if swift error correction isn’t forthcoming (a matter of milliseconds), then a subjective experience of distress will arise. This distress often appears first as anxiety, yet it can escalate rapidly and become frustration, fear, anger, and eventually threat.
When a baby signals and the response takes too long, the baby’s level of distress increases and contributes to how they will signal in the future. Failure to respond to the baby’s signals definitely has consequences. If the baby suffers a consequence for having signaled in the first place—perhaps the caregiver responds in a hostile manner—this affects how the baby will signal in the future.
We’re talking here about consistent patterns of signal-response disturbance. There’s no interaction without error. That's why it's important be aware of the error and repair the rupture. Consistent failure to error-correct, reattune, or repair the infraction can impair the child's ability to regulate in the future. These signals, or bids for connection, happen all the time between couples and when the appropriate response is missing, partners become dysregulated (out of sorts). These errors are commonly called misattuned micromoments, where partners are out of tune with each other.
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This process is demonstrated in the ‘still face’ experiment conducted by
Ed Tronick. It demonstrates how vulnerable we all are to the emotional or non-emotional reactions of the people we are close to. It demonstrates how babies try to achieve connection. They have a clear reaction to a lack of emotional connection from their mothers and fathers. Even very young babies have demonstrated that they can respond to emotions of the adults who care for them. Babies are actively engaging and shaping social interaction with the adults in their lives. |
These patterns occur in humans of all ages who are seeking emotional connection.
- The first stage is the reach which is generally a physical movement of arms out.
- The second stage, the protest, is an attempt to engage the other person with emotion to obtain a reaction.
- The third stage is the turn away when the baby is so overwhelmed trying to get a reaction, they will look around the room or turn away from the parent.
- The fourth stage involves a final effort to get a connection and usually involves visible distress. This occurs because the baby is so dysregulated and desperate for connection, they use the only means they have of communicating which usually involves crying.
- The final stage involves the baby ceasing to attempt to get an emotional reaction from the parent. In a healthy relationship there is a reconnection as shown in the videos and this leads to the ability to repair the hurt that has occurred in the relationship.
Poor Signaling Affects Arousal Regulation
As you have learned, in a two-person system, the autonomic and central nervous systems are linked and regulated by each partner. Each partner will respond to internal and external stimuli differently based on their childhood experiences with signaling and responding. Even the most secure-functioning couples will struggle from time to time around signal-response issues.
Mitch and Kendall, who frequently get into trouble when discussing topics important to one or both of them, are a good example of a couple who struggle with signal-response issues. Here’s some background: Mitch was raised by a cold, distant, and judgmental mother who didn’t respond if he was upset. Kendall was raised by a ranting father who lectured her and “loved to hear himself talk.” She wouldn’t dare interrupt her father when she was little. In fact, she remembers sitting there wishing he’d just go away and leave her alone. When discussing a problem, Mitch expresses himself in an animated, emotional manner, and Kendall will sit quietly, poised, and almost perfectly still while Mitch speaks. He appears to talk without pause and becomes increasingly repetitive and excited (aroused). Kendall’s expressions remain the same—unflinching, imperturbable, but present. It’s no surprise when their conversations lead to distress.
Why does Mitch go on and on like that? Why does Kendall allow him to do that? Relatively unaware of himself, Mitch is largely reacting to Kendall’s unresponsiveness, believing she doesn’t understand him or is judging him. He’s not altogether wrong. Kendall is indeed waiting for him to finish, which he doesn’t do because she’s not signaling a need to talk, nor is she responding to his nonverbal cues. Kendall’s lack of facial expression causes Mitch to believe she is thinking something negative and he feels judged, like when his mother judged him. Kendall’s and Mitch’s fighting styles are actually amplifying their personal historical traumas, yet neither is aware.
So how can they remedy the situation? One option is for Mitch to pay attention to Kendall’s subtle cues while talking, which includes stillness, and checking in with her. Another is for Kendall to offer a response by nodding her head or saying phrases such as “I see,” “I understand,” or even “Okay, uh-huh.” She can also use touch and eye contact to stop him from repeating himself: “Honey, hold on. I get it. You’re wanting me to . . .” And if he continues to talk too long, she can say, “One more minute and let’s change the subject,” as a way to take control of the subject matter without hurting Mitch’s feelings.
The troublesome triad, if not understood as a problem intrinsic to the human condition, will lead to countless misunderstandings that you and your partner will presume to be intentional and personal. Therefore, can you fully trust your communication? Nope. Can you fully trust your memories? Nope. Can you fully trust your perceptions? Nope. So what can you trust? As my colleague Cary Glass has taught repeatedly to our medical residents, be curious, not furious. Check and cross-check your perceptions: what you hear, what you say, and what your partner hears. Ask yourself: Are we talking about the same thing? Is my face saying something different from my words? Is my voice? Is the shortcut I’m using with my partner really being understood? All of us can become arrogant about what we believe is true. The best way to error-correct is to remain curious, friendly, flexible, humble, and open to being wrong. Your relationship’s integrity is what keeps you safe and secure, not your adherence to fact, righteousness, performance, or perfection.
As you have learned, in a two-person system, the autonomic and central nervous systems are linked and regulated by each partner. Each partner will respond to internal and external stimuli differently based on their childhood experiences with signaling and responding. Even the most secure-functioning couples will struggle from time to time around signal-response issues.
Mitch and Kendall, who frequently get into trouble when discussing topics important to one or both of them, are a good example of a couple who struggle with signal-response issues. Here’s some background: Mitch was raised by a cold, distant, and judgmental mother who didn’t respond if he was upset. Kendall was raised by a ranting father who lectured her and “loved to hear himself talk.” She wouldn’t dare interrupt her father when she was little. In fact, she remembers sitting there wishing he’d just go away and leave her alone. When discussing a problem, Mitch expresses himself in an animated, emotional manner, and Kendall will sit quietly, poised, and almost perfectly still while Mitch speaks. He appears to talk without pause and becomes increasingly repetitive and excited (aroused). Kendall’s expressions remain the same—unflinching, imperturbable, but present. It’s no surprise when their conversations lead to distress.
Why does Mitch go on and on like that? Why does Kendall allow him to do that? Relatively unaware of himself, Mitch is largely reacting to Kendall’s unresponsiveness, believing she doesn’t understand him or is judging him. He’s not altogether wrong. Kendall is indeed waiting for him to finish, which he doesn’t do because she’s not signaling a need to talk, nor is she responding to his nonverbal cues. Kendall’s lack of facial expression causes Mitch to believe she is thinking something negative and he feels judged, like when his mother judged him. Kendall’s and Mitch’s fighting styles are actually amplifying their personal historical traumas, yet neither is aware.
So how can they remedy the situation? One option is for Mitch to pay attention to Kendall’s subtle cues while talking, which includes stillness, and checking in with her. Another is for Kendall to offer a response by nodding her head or saying phrases such as “I see,” “I understand,” or even “Okay, uh-huh.” She can also use touch and eye contact to stop him from repeating himself: “Honey, hold on. I get it. You’re wanting me to . . .” And if he continues to talk too long, she can say, “One more minute and let’s change the subject,” as a way to take control of the subject matter without hurting Mitch’s feelings.
The troublesome triad, if not understood as a problem intrinsic to the human condition, will lead to countless misunderstandings that you and your partner will presume to be intentional and personal. Therefore, can you fully trust your communication? Nope. Can you fully trust your memories? Nope. Can you fully trust your perceptions? Nope. So what can you trust? As my colleague Cary Glass has taught repeatedly to our medical residents, be curious, not furious. Check and cross-check your perceptions: what you hear, what you say, and what your partner hears. Ask yourself: Are we talking about the same thing? Is my face saying something different from my words? Is my voice? Is the shortcut I’m using with my partner really being understood? All of us can become arrogant about what we believe is true. The best way to error-correct is to remain curious, friendly, flexible, humble, and open to being wrong. Your relationship’s integrity is what keeps you safe and secure, not your adherence to fact, righteousness, performance, or perfection.