They can't read your mind

"If I have to ask, it doesn't count"

Chapter 9 · 2 min read

I think this belief holds all the others in place. Suppose you accept everything so far. They can't see how you feel, hints don't land, and years together don't confer telepathy. You might still say that asking spoils it. If you have to tell them to run you a bath, the bath is only obedience. You wanted it to come from them.

I want to take that seriously, because there's something true in it. An unprompted kindness has a particular sweetness. It tells you that you were in someone's thoughts when you weren't in the room. I'm not going to argue that the sweetness is imaginary. Chapter 17 suggests a way of getting more of it.

But look at what you're valuing when you say it doesn't count. There are two parts to an act of care. One is knowing what's wanted. The other is being willing to do it. The habit puts nearly all the weight on the first. Did they work it out? Yet the knowing is a matter of information, as chapter 3 said, and it has little to do with love. The willing is where the love is.

When you ask, you supply the information yourself and leave the willing entirely to them.

Think about what it means when someone is asked for something and gives it gladly. You say, "I've had an awful week. Could you do bedtime so I can have a bath?" They say, "Of course. Go on, I'll bring you a cup of tea." They've heard you and taken you seriously, and they've put down what they were doing and given you their evening. I don't see how that can fail to count. It's as clear a demonstration of care as you could wish for. All that's missing is the guess.

There's research on which kinds of support help. Natalya Maisel and Shelly Gable followed sixty-seven couples day by day. Support from a partner was beneficial only when it was responsive, meaning that it fitted what the person actually needed and made them feel understood and cared for. Support that wasn't responsive didn't help. The authors point out that in earlier studies, receiving support from someone close had often gone with feeling worse. For support to be responsive, the supporter has to know the need. The most reliable way for them to know is to be told. So asking makes it more likely that the care you get is the care you wanted.

Consider also what the test measures. When you stay silent and wait, you aren't measuring love, because a loving partner and an indifferent one will both fail to read your mind. You can only tell them apart by asking. One of them says "Of course." The other sighs and says "Can't you do it?" The plain ask shows you which one you've got, and the test can't show you that.

Surprises can survive all this. You can tell someone what you need and still leave them room to meet it in their own way. "I'd love you to make a fuss of my birthday" tells them what's wanted. How they do it can still be a surprise.