Wild Lion*esses Pride by Jay

Wild Lion*esses Pride by Jay

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The 12 Barriers to Communication
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The 12 Barriers to Communication

How Communication Can Block Connection and What to Do Instead

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Wild Lion*esses Pride from Jay
Feb 26, 2025
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The 12 Barriers to Communication
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A close-up photograph of thick, coiled ropes neatly arranged on a wooden ship railing, secured around wooden belaying pins. The warm golden lighting creates a sense of nostalgia and craftsmanship, highlighting the texture of the ropes and the worn wood. The scene evokes themes of structure, connection, and tension—symbolic of communication, trust, and the ways in which conversations can either secure or constrain relationships.
The knots we tie in conversation can either secure understanding or create tension. Just like these ropes, communication can be structured, intentional, and supportive—or it can become tangled with control, judgment, and misdirection.

I’ve walked away from conversations feeling unheard, frustrated, or even invisible. And I’ve also been the one who—without meaning to—shut someone down just by how I responded. It wasn’t until I learned about Thomas Gordon’s 12 communication barriers that I understood why.

These barriers aren’t just personal habits.

They are deeply embedded in the way Western societies teach communication. Most of us weren’t trained to listen—we were trained to respond, to fix, to correct.

We grew up in systems built on hierarchy, dominance, and obedience—where communication flowed top-down. Whether in families, schools, workplaces, or institutions, we learned that authority speaks and others follow. Orders were given, consequences were enforced, and emotions were often dismissed as obstacles to efficiency. Even encouragement often came in the form of evaluation and judgment rather than validation and presence.

So, without realizing it, we repeat these patterns.

We step into conversations not to understand, but to direct. These barriers show up when we think we’re being helpful, when we believe we’re giving good advice, when we push someone toward the “right” decision.

They also surface when we’re uncomfortable—when we rush to end silences, when we dismiss emotions we don’t know how to hold, or when we try to steer a conversation back into familiar, controlled territory.

And every one of these barriers does the opposite of what we intend. They don’t bring us closer. They don’t solve problems. They don’t make the other person feel understood.

Instead, they create resistance, defensiveness, and emotional distance.

They undermine trust.

They erode a person’s sense of agency.

A well-intended correction can feel like a dismissal. A logical argument can feel like invalidation. A piece of advice can subtly communicate, I don’t trust you to figure this out yourself. These barriers don’t just affect individual conversations—they reinforce systemic patterns of disconnection, power imbalance, and control.

And the worst part? Most of us don’t realize when we’re using them.

  • We think we’re helping, when we’re actually directing.

  • We think we’re motivating, when we’re actually pressuring.

  • We think we’re being logical, when we’re actually dismissing.

And then we wonder why the other person withdraws, shuts down, or lashes out.

One of the hardest things to do is listen without interrupting, without preparing our response in our head, and without shifting the conversation back to ourselves.

We resist this because we fear that if we don’t speak now, our thoughts will disappear. And if the moment passes and it no longer feels relevant, maybe it wasn’t as important as it seemed. Maybe it was just an impulse to reclaim space rather than an offering that deepened the exchange.

Silence isn’t a failure to contribute—it’s an opening for deeper connection.

Another difficult habit to break is judging others' experiences instead of acknowledging them. The urge to compare, correct, or suggest isn’t always about them—it’s often about our own discomfort with witnessing struggle without fixing it.

People don’t need us to solve them. They need to be heard.

Sometimes, presence is the most powerful response.

Thomas Gordon identified these 12 barriers as some of the most common ways we unknowingly disrupt communication.

Yet they aren’t just personal habits to unlearn—they are part of a much bigger cultural script that prioritizes dominance over dialogue.

Once we recognize that, we don’t just change how we speak—we change how we listen, how we hold space, and how we navigate power in our relationships.

So let’s take a look at these barriers—not as abstract ideas, but as real, lived moments in our conversations.

We’ve all been on both sides—shut down and shutting down, silenced and silencing. The point isn’t blame. The point is awareness.

Because once we see these patterns, we can start choosing something different.

1. Commanding, Ordering

⛔ This is about control, not cooperation.

“You must stop crying.”

“You have to get over it.”

“You will listen to me.”

Commanding doesn’t just shut down conversation—it strips away choice. It’s not a dialogue; it’s an ultimatum. Instead of inviting someone to explore their feelings or consider options, it dictates what they must do, forcing submission or resistance. The moment someone hears an order, they don’t think about solutions—they brace for control or push back against it.

I’ve been on the receiving end of this. When I was struggling, I heard: “You must pull yourself together.” It didn’t help. It didn’t make me feel capable. It made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to process my emotions. The expectation wasn’t healing—it was suppression.

And I’ve done it too. “You have to stop letting people treat you this way.” I thought I was offering guidance, but I was actually imposing my expectations on someone else’s situation. Instead of empowering them, I was subtly saying, I know better than you.

✅ What helps instead? Offering choices, not commands.

Instead of “You must get over this,” say: “What do you think would help you move forward?”

Instead of “You have to do something about this,” say: “What options are you considering?”

People don’t need control. They need space to find their own solutions.


2. Admonishing, Warning, Threatening

⛔ This is about fear, not understanding.

“If you don’t stop this, you’ll regret it.”

“If you don’t listen to me, I won’t help you anymore.”

“That’s enough—if you keep this up, you’ll lose everything.”

A warning rarely sparks change. More often, it creates panic, compliance, or defiance. When someone feels like they’re being cornered, they don’t reflect on their actions—they focus on escaping the threat, whether that means shutting down or fighting back.

I’ve had this used on me. I was once told: “If you don’t toughen up, no one will take you seriously.” Instead of pushing me to grow, it filled me with self-doubt and resentment. Fear didn’t build my confidence; it made me more afraid of making mistakes.

And I’ve done it too. “If you don’t fix this, your life will fall apart.” I thought I was giving a wake-up call, but I was actually taking away their ability to think through their own decisions. I wasn’t helping—I was pressuring.

✅ What helps instead? Encouraging reflection, not panic.

Instead of “If you don’t stop, you’ll ruin everything,” say: “What do you think the consequences might be?”

Instead of “If you don’t change, you’ll regret it,” say: “What kind of support would help you make a change?”

Fear doesn’t build confidence—understanding does.


3. Moralizing, Preaching, Reminding of Duty

⛔ This is about obligation and guilt, not guidance.

“You should be more grateful.”

“You must forgive them.”

“It’s your responsibility to do the right thing.”

Moralizing assumes there’s one right way to feel, think, or act—and pressures the other person to conform to it. It doesn’t encourage self-reflection; it creates guilt and resistance. Instead of fostering insight, it forces compliance through obligation.

I’ve been told: “You should stop being so sensitive.” It didn’t help me gain perspective—it made me feel like my emotions were a burden.

And I’ve done it too. “You should just move on.” I thought I was helping, but I was actually shaming someone for not being in the place I thought they should be.

✅ What helps instead? Inviting curiosity, not judgment.

Instead of “You should forgive them,” say: “How do you feel about what happened?”

Instead of “You must take responsibility,” say: “What feels right for you in this situation?”

People don’t need lectures. They need space to explore their own values.


4. Giving Advice, Making Suggestions, Offering Solutions

⛔ This is about fixing, not listening.

“If I were you, I would…”

“Why don’t you just try therapy?”

“My suggestion is to…”

Unsolicited advice often feels dismissive. It suggests the person hasn’t thought about their own solutions or isn’t capable of figuring it out. Even when the advice is well-intended, it can subtly send the message: You don’t know what you’re doing, so let me decide for you.

I’ve heard: “You just need to sleep more.” It didn’t make me feel understood—it made me feel like my struggles weren’t real.

And I’ve done it too. “You should just quit that job.” I thought I was helping, but I was actually taking over their process instead of letting them navigate it themselves.

✅ What helps instead? Asking what they need.

Instead of “You should try this,” say: “Would you like my thoughts on this?”

Instead of “If I were you, I would…,” say: “What have you already considered?”

People don’t need quick fixes. They need space to think for themselves.


5. Convincing with Logic, Lecturing, Arguing

⛔ This is about invalidation, not understanding.

“That’s not actually true.”

“You’re not seeing this logically.”

“Statistically, your fear doesn’t make sense.”

Logic doesn’t override emotion. When someone is feeling something deeply, throwing facts at them doesn’t make the feeling disappear—it makes them feel erased. It turns the conversation into a battle of right and wrong, where the goal becomes proving a point rather than understanding each other.

I’ve had people debate my feelings with facts, and it didn’t make me reconsider my emotions—it made me feel erased.

And I’ve done it too. Someone was afraid of flying, and I said, “Statistically, planes are the safest mode of transportation.” I thought I was helping. Instead, I was dismissing their fear.

✅ What helps instead? Validation, not argument.

Instead of “That’s not true,” say: “I can see why this feels that way to you.”

Instead of “You’re not thinking logically,” say: “That makes sense from your perspective.”

People don’t need to be proven wrong. They need to feel understood.


6. Judging, Criticizing, Blaming

⛔ This is about blame, not support.

“You always overreact.”

“You never think things through.”

“You’re so careless.”

Criticism puts people on the defensive. It makes them justify themselves instead of reflecting. Judgment doesn’t open up conversation—it shuts it down.

I’ve been told: “You always make things harder than they need to be.” It didn’t make me change—it made me feel unseen.

And I’ve done it too. “You never listen.” I thought I was addressing the issue, but I was actually attacking them as a person.

✅ What helps instead? Speaking from experience.

Instead of “You always overreact,” say: “I feel overwhelmed when this happens.”

Instead of “You never listen,” say: “I feel unheard right now.”

People don’t need blame. They need clarity and understanding.


When we stop imposing, controlling, or invalidating, we stop turning conversations into battles. We create space for listening, reflection, and connection.

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7. Praising, Agreeing

⛔ This is about evaluation, not connection.

“But you can do this!”

“That’s not a problem for you.”

“You did a great job!”

Praise sounds encouraging, but it subtly sets expectations rather than fostering connection. When praise is generic, excessive, or used to push someone toward a behavior, it can feel manipulative rather than supportive. It assumes a person should feel a certain way about themselves—whether they do or not. And when the praise doesn’t match their internal experience, it doesn’t build them up—it isolates them.

I’ve been on the receiving end of this. Someone once told me: “You’re always so strong—you’ll handle this easily.” Instead of feeling empowered, I felt pressured to perform strength rather than be honest about my struggle. It made me question whether I could share my real feelings at all.

And I’ve done it too. “You’re so good at this—you’ll figure it out.” I thought I was offering encouragement, but I was actually minimizing their struggle and placing an expectation on them. Instead of seeing where they were, I was pushing them toward where I thought they should be.

✅ What helps instead? Appreciation, validation, admiration.

Instead of “You’re great at handling things,” say: “I really admire the way you’re navigating this situation.”

Instead of “That’s not a problem for you,” say: “How are you feeling about it?”

People don’t need praise—they need to feel truly seen and acknowledged.


8. Insulting, Ridiculing, Name-Calling

⛔ This is about humiliation, not honesty.

“Scaredy-cat!”

“You always think you know better!”

“Wow, that was dumb.”

Insults, sarcasm, and ridicule don’t challenge people to grow—they shut them down. Even when intended as a joke, these remarks erode trust and self-worth. They shift the focus from the issue to the person, making the conversation about identity rather than behavior. And when someone feels attacked, they don’t reflect—they defend.

I’ve had this happen to me. When I hesitated on something difficult, I was told: “Stop being such a coward.” Instead of pushing me forward, it made me feel ashamed and small. The problem wasn’t just the words—it was the underlying message: There’s something wrong with you.

And I’ve done it too. I once said: “Oh come on, don’t be dramatic.” I thought I was diffusing tension, but I was actually dismissing their emotions. I wasn’t calming them—I was telling them their feelings weren’t valid.

✅ What helps instead? Respect and direct communication.

Instead of “You’re such a coward,” say: “I see that this is really difficult for you. What’s holding you back?”

Instead of “You always think you know better,” say: “I’d like to understand your perspective—can you explain it to me?”

People don’t need to be put down—they need to feel safe to express themselves.


9. Analyzing, Diagnosing, Interpreting

⛔ This is about labeling, not understanding.

“Your problem is that you’re insecure.”

“You’re just overwhelmed right now.”

“This is happening because of your past trauma.”

When we analyze someone instead of listening, we reduce them to a diagnosis rather than a person. Even if our analysis is accurate, it lands as an attack rather than support. It shifts the conversation from their experience to our interpretation of it, taking away their ability to define their own reality.

I’ve experienced this. I once expressed frustration and was told: “You’re just projecting.” It didn’t make me reflect—it made me stop sharing altogether. Instead of feeling understood, I felt boxed in by someone else’s interpretation of my feelings.

And I’ve done it too. I’ve said: “I think you’re afraid of failure.” I thought I was helping them see something deeper, but I was actually telling them how they feel instead of letting them explore it themselves. Instead of inviting reflection, I was imposing a label.

✅ What helps instead? Asking, not assuming.

Instead of “Your problem is that you’re insecure,” say: “Do you feel like something is holding you back?”

Instead of “You’re just overwhelmed,” say: “This sounds like a lot—how are you feeling about it?”

People don’t need to be analyzed—they need to be heard.


10. Soothing, Comforting, Showing Pity

⛔ This is about dismissal, not support.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal.”

“Things will get better soon.”

“I went through the same thing.”

Comforting might seem kind, but it often minimizes the person’s emotions. Instead of making them feel understood, it makes them feel like they shouldn’t be feeling what they’re feeling. When someone is struggling, they don’t need their pain brushed aside—they need it acknowledged.

I’ve had this done to me. When I opened up about a painful experience, I heard: “Oh, don’t be upset, everything happens for a reason.” It didn’t make me feel better—it made me feel alone in my feelings. Instead of support, I felt dismissed.

And I’ve done it too. “You’ll be fine, don’t stress so much.” I thought I was helping, but I was actually dismissing their emotional reality. I was trying to offer relief, but what they needed was validation.

✅ What helps instead? Validating their emotions.

Instead of “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal,” say: “I see why this is upsetting. Do you want to talk more about it?”

Instead of “I went through the same thing,” say: “That sounds really hard. How are you feeling about it?”

People don’t need their emotions brushed aside—they need to know they matter.


11. Probing, Interrogating, Questioning

⛔ This is about control, not curiosity.

“Why did you do that?”

“What were you thinking?”

“How could you let that happen?”

Questions can be helpful—when they come from genuine curiosity. But when they are interrogative, judgmental, or excessive, they turn into a cross-examination rather than a conversation. Instead of inviting reflection, they demand justification.

I’ve been on the receiving end of this. Someone once asked: “Why didn’t you just handle it differently?” It didn’t help me think through my choices—it made me feel defensive and ashamed.

And I’ve done it too. I’ve asked: “Why didn’t you see this coming?” I thought I was trying to understand, but I was actually pressuring them to justify themselves. Instead of support, I was making them feel small.

✅ What helps instead? Open-ended, supportive questions.

Instead of “Why did you do that?” say: “What led you to make that choice?”

Instead of “What were you thinking?” say: “What was going through your mind at the time?”

People don’t need to be interrogated—they need space to reflect.


12. Distracting, Mocking, Withdrawing

⛔ This is about avoidance, not support.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Someone’s making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“I’m done with this conversation.”

Avoidance sends the message: “Your feelings are too much for me.” It teaches people to hide their emotions rather than express them.

I’ve had this happen to me. When I tried to open up, I heard: “Let’s not get into that—it’s too depressing.” It didn’t make me feel lighter—it made me feel like my emotions weren’t welcome.

And I’ve done it too. I’ve said: “Can we just change the subject?” I thought I was preventing negativity, but I was actually shutting the other person out.

✅ What helps instead? Staying present, even in discomfort.

Instead of “Let’s talk about something else,” say: “I know this is hard—do you want to keep talking about it?”

People don’t need avoidance—they need to feel like their emotions are safe to share.


Final Thoughts

The way we communicate either creates connection or fractures it. Most of these barriers don’t come from bad intentions—they come from habit, from discomfort, from a desire to help in ways that unknowingly take something away: agency, validation, or choice.

When we replace control with curiosity, judgment with understanding, and avoidance with presence, conversations shift. They become safer. People open up. And instead of defensiveness, there’s trust.

I’ve caught myself using these barriers. I’ve been on the receiving end of them too. And the truth is, unlearning them isn’t about becoming a perfect communicator—it’s about becoming more aware. Paying attention. Pausing before reacting. Leaving space for the other person instead of rushing to fill it.

I’m still learning. Maybe you are too.

Here are some of the best things I’ve learned about communication—just between you and me:

  1. Speak for yourself. Say “I know,” “I think,” “I am”—not “Everybody knows,” or “We all feel.” It’s hard enough to know what’s true for you, let alone what’s true for everyone else. Own your words.

  2. Drop the judgment. If you have to evaluate, keep it personal. “I’m struggling with this,” instead of, “That’s a bad idea.” Judgment creates walls. Openness invites conversation.

  3. Acknowledge, don’t fix. People want to feel heard, not solved. Unless someone explicitly asks for advice, don’t assume they need it. Sometimes, “That sounds really difficult,” is the most powerful thing you can say.

  4. Be mindful of “Why?” questions. They can feel like an interrogation. Instead of “Why did you do that?” try “What led you to that choice?” A shift in phrasing can mean the difference between openness and defensiveness.

  5. Really listen. Not for your turn to speak, not to counter, not to fix—just to understand. If your own thought disappears while you’re listening, maybe it wasn’t as important as you thought. Let it go.

  6. Know where your story is going. If you’re sharing something, make sure there’s a reason you’re telling it. Does it add to the conversation? Or are you just making it about you?

  7. Check that your message lands the way you meant it. Saying something is one thing—having it received as you intended is another. If it matters, clarify.

  8. Make sure you understand what’s being said to you. Don’t assume. If you’re unsure, ask: “So what I’m hearing is…” It saves a lot of miscommunication.

Ultimately, good communication isn’t about always saying the right thing.

It’s about creating the space where real conversations can happen—where people feel safe, seen, and heard. And that starts with listening, not speaking.

Here’ to many wonderful communications - with ourselves (yes, we do all that which ourselves as well) and other.

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Glad to have you walk this path alongside me.

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Creating art, testing recipes, and sharing my reflections here is a labor of love, but it also comes with real costs. Since January 2024 I am on sick leave for mental health challenges. Monty and I make life workable with a disposable income of €350 / $380 a month.

For years, I gave everything—my wealth, inheritance, health, and mental well-being—to support my partner’s company. Trauma kept me from taking care of myself; my self was exiled, and I had no connection to it. Now, with my three jobs in the company on hold due to my sick leave, my colleague was unable to make up for the gap, and the market has shifted dramatically.

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I share more about my situation here:

When Healing Means Losing Everything

When Healing Means Losing Everything

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Jan 3
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