Drafts of My Heart

Draft 7: Learning Language

Learning the Languages of the Heart

Lately, I have been trying to understand the "languages" of the people within my circle. I've listened carefully, not just to their words, but also to the slip of the tongue, the rhythm of their replies, and the emotions tucked behind every reaction in a conversation.

Before I share my conclusions from these observations, I'd like to open up about the way I naturally communicate.

When I was young, maybe in my early teens, I discovered a simple technique that shaped the way I connect with others. If I wanted to know something about someone, I would first share a little piece of myself. For example, if I wanted to know your favorite color, I might begin with,

 "Hey, do you know there's a purple flower called 'forget-me-not'? I've been looking for purple flowers, and I discovered it while searching. I've fallen in love with purple." 

More often than not, people would respond by sharing their favorite colors or flowers. And for those who only nodded, I would gently follow up, "How about you? Do you have a favorite color or flower?" Then the conversation would flow naturally.

That became my way of communicating, sharing myself first, not to dominate the conversation, but because I genuinely wanted to draw others out. When I open my heart, it's usually because I long to know theirs, too.

But as I grew older, I realized something. That not everyone communicates the same way. I assumed that when people shared something about themselves, it was their way of inviting me to do the same. I thought they wanted to know me, too. But I learned that it is not always the case.

Some people have told me that they appreciate my way of conversing, how we exchange stories and experiences like mirrors reflecting one another's hearts. But others have gently pointed out that when they share, they don't always want me to respond with something about myself. To them, it feels like I am taking the spotlight away.

And that stings. Because in truth, I never meant to make it about me. It can feel heartbreaking to be misunderstood, to be called self-centered or "too much", when all I really wanted was to connect. Sometimes, it feels like speaking two different languages in the same room, I speak with openness, they speak with silence, and in the end, we both leave feeling unheard.

What makes it harder is the imbalance. I've tried to adjust to their language, learning to stay quiet, to hold my stories, to listen patiently even when my heart longs to relate. And I do this because I want to love them well. Yet, there are moments when it feels unfair. Because even when I've explained that this is how I communicate, some people still never try to adjust in return. They accept my silence but never offer me space for expression. They receive my listening but rarely listen back.

And that's when the ache grows heavier. It feels like carrying a part of yourself that no one wants to know, or holding a language that no one cares to learn.

But in these moments of quiet grief, I remember that even this is a lesson in grace. Not everyone will meet me where I am. Not everyone will learn my language. And that's okay. Because God knows my heart. He understands the language of my soul, even when people don't.

Still, I believe love works best when there is a willingness to meet halfway. Relationships whether friendships, family, or community, thrive when both sides learn to step into each other's world. If I can take the time to listen in silence, I hope others, too, can someday take the time to listen to my stories. Because love is not only about being heard, it is about hearing each other.

So to those whose language is like mine, let us also be more attentive to those whose language is different. But may we also remember that our voices matter, too. It is not selfish to hope for understanding; it is simply human. And when the pain of being misunderstood weighs on us, may we take comfort in the God who speaks all languages, the One who listens without judgment, who invites us to pour out our hearts without fear of being too much.

As Scripture reminds us,"Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" (Colossians 4:6).

In the end, communication is not only about words, it is about learning hearts. And when we choose to listen with grace, to speak with love, and to trust that God hears us even when others don't, we find a deeper kind of peace. Because His is the language that never fails.