What Is the Cost of Avoiding Difficult Conversations? Usually More Than You Think

After Cash witnessed my sudden cardiac death, I would ask him a question that sounded like the right question.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep.”

Perfect.

Conversation over.

Except I knew he was going to say yes. What else would a 17-year-old teenage kid say? 🤣

That was part of the problem.

I could tell myself I had checked on my son without actually asking the questions I was afraid to hear the answers to.

Then Cash would ask me if I was okay.

“Yep.”

We were both doing it.

Two people trying to protect each other by saying absolutely nothing.

Months later, we were at a wrestling meet when the kid he was wrestling suffered a horrific injury. His right arm hyperextended so badly that his wrist folded back toward his armpit.

Cash lost it.

He started screaming. He was banging his head against the mat. I came out of the stands, grabbed him, and tried to calm him down.

I couldn’t.

He was looking straight through me.

Finally, I grabbed him, shook him, and said, “Cash, do you trust me?”

He looked at me and said something I will never forget.

“Dad, I can’t hear the sirens.”

Later that day, I finally asked the question I should have been asking months earlier.

“So the sirens affect you?”

He told me yes.

Then he said, “I don’t know who to tell. Every time I hear them, I’m afraid. I always wonder if they’re coming to get you.”

That is what I had missed.

I thought I had been protecting my son by not digging into something painful.

I was actually protecting myself.

I didn't want to hear that Cash was hurting because I didn't know how to fix it. I didn't want to learn that he had his own healing journey when I was still trying to figure out mine.

So I asked questions that gave me comfortable answers.

That is the danger of avoiding difficult conversations.

Avoidance feels easier in the moment. Sometimes it even feels kind.

But whatever we refuse to talk about does not disappear.

It waits.

Eventually, I realized that my job was not to fix what Cash was feeling. My job was to connect with him and create enough safety for him to tell me his story.

So we talked.

I asked deeper questions. I listened. He walked me through what he had experienced, what he was afraid of, and what he had been carrying.

Then we decided together that we would find someone he could talk to.

That experience changed how I think about difficult conversations.

The goal is not always to have the answer.

Sometimes the goal is to care enough to ask the question you are afraid to ask and then stay long enough to hear the answer.

That applies to your kids. Your marriage. Your employees. Your friendships. Your business.

The conversation you are avoiding might be uncomfortable.

But ask yourself a harder question:

What is avoiding it already costing you?

If there is a conversation, decision, or situation you know you need to face but you keep finding reasons not to, book a complimentary coaching conversation with me. We will figure out what you are avoiding, why you are avoiding it, and what the next honest step looks like.