"Don't Go Fix It": What My Wife Taught a Problem-Solver
The short answer
Some conversations aren't requests for a solution. My wife, Julie, sometimes starts with "Don't go fix it. I just need to tell you about something." For a man who sees problems to fix everywhere, that instruction is a gift. Being heard and being fixed are different needs, and presence comes before solutions.
My wife, Julie, opens some of our conversations like this:
"I need to tell you about something. Don't go fix it. This is not a problem. Don't go fix it. I just need to tell you about something."
And I thank her for the instruction.
Why do problem-solvers struggle to just listen?
Because fixing is how we show up. I just see problems to fix. It's served me well for 30 years in business. A customer has an issue, I solve it. A process is broken, I rebuild it. My house painter mentions his son's website, and I've rebuilt it before he reaches the end of the driveway.
That instinct follows me home. When someone I love tells me about something hard, my brain starts working the problem before they've finished the sentence. I'm already thinking about who to call, what to change, and what the three options are.
Most of the men I coach are the same. That's part of how they got where they are. The trouble is that the instinct that wins in the boardroom can make the person across the dinner table feel unheard. She wanted to be listened to, and she got a consultant.
What does "don't go fix it" actually ask for?
It asks me to switch off the part of me that's most useful at work, and to bring the part that's most useful at home: attention.
Being heard is a different need from being fixed. When Julie tells me about something hard and asks me not to fix it, she's asking me to be present with her in it. She doesn't need my three options. She needs to know I'm with her.
What I love about her instruction is that it's clear. She tells me up front which kind of conversation this is, and that makes it easy for me to give her what she actually needs.
How do you practice this if your partner doesn't say it for you?
Ask. It's a simple question: "Do you want me to help solve this, or do you want me to just listen?" It feels awkward the first time. After that it becomes one of the most useful questions in a relationship, because it removes the guessing.
Then, if the answer is "just listen," do the hard part. Don't offer the solution even when you can see it. Let the silence sit. Ask how they're feeling about it. Stay in the conversation until they're done, and then thank them for telling you.
This is presence, and it's the same discipline I write about in the Power of Silence: quieting the noise so you can actually be where you are. At home, the noise is often your own urge to fix.
Life is a gift. It's meant to be shared, and sharing it well sometimes means saying nothing at all.
When was the last time you solved a problem nobody asked you to solve?
~b