Before I put my podcast, “Reimagining Love,” on hiatus, I would ask Todd for feedback after every episode (he was a devoted listener, which, turns out, is also a love language!). Once, he told me a particular episode was, “Hands down my least favorite.” A slog, in his words.
In case you didn’t already know, I am notoriously thin-skinned, ready to turn all but the most positive words into the harshest of critiques. However, as he expressed his feelings, I felt neutral, even a bit curious.
What made the difference wasn’t that Todd softened his words or delivered them as a “feedback sandwich” (compliment, critique, compliment). He hadn’t done either of those. He was direct and clear. What made the difference was that I was able to hear the premise underneath his words.
He was telling me about his experience, not delivering a verdict on the show or on me.
Relationships need feedback
When you share an observation about me, I can use it as fuel to grow, and it tells me you care enough to notice. That’s feedback.
But three elements must be in place for this to work: the me, the you, and the we.
- The Me: I need a foundation of self-compassion. Otherwise, I’ll hear your feedback as commentary on my entire worth, and I’ll respond with defensiveness, attack, or retreat.
- The You: You need to be able to share in a way that is both tactful and truthful. People-pleasing is all tact, no truth. Brutal honesty is all truth, no tact. At best, it’s a boundary violation; at worst, it’s cruelty masquerading as a favor: “I’m just saying this to help you!”
- The We: We need a culture of positivity between us. I need to trust that you’ll share with me the good stuff too.
Without these three elements in place, your words will land as criticism instead.
The difference between feedback and criticism isn’t how “nicely” you package it. It’s whether you’re reporting absolute truth about who your partner is or offering your experience in hopes of understanding each other better.
Being in an intimate relationship means we have a front-row seat to our partner’s life. This gives us so many opportunities to notice how they handle their health, their parents, their boss… their podcast. Here’s where the rubber hits the road: when you are providing feedback, your partner is centered. You love them. You know them well. You believe in them. And you are feeling troubled by a choice they are making.
Even well-intentioned feedback lands as criticism when there’s already an agreement in place. If your partner has told you, “I’m tackling this, I’ve got it,” more commentary is redundant, and at that point, the work becomes yours: self-soothe, trust, and focus on something else.
The line between care and overstepping gets incredibly thin. Here are some reminders as you consider when, how, and why you might share your observations with your partner.
Ground your feedback in your experience
“Those glasses don’t look good on you” is criticism, because it’s delivered as fact.
“I like the other pair better” is feedback, because it’s delivered as preference.
“You were rude to the waiter” is criticism, because it is a verdict.
“Your tone sounded sharp to me, and I felt uncomfortable” is feedback, because it’s delivered as your experience.
“You are not a victim in your relationship with your boss” is criticism, because it’s a judgement. “It’s hard for me to hear you struggling so much in your relationship with your boss, and I wonder if we can brainstorm some next steps” is feedback, because it includes your experience and an offer to collaborate.
When you speak in absolutes, your partner is likely to respond with absolutes of their own, and you end up in a battle over the truth instead of a conversation about each other.
Focus on behavior, not attacking their character
“You are so inconsiderate” is a verdict on who your partner is.
“When you did that, I felt hurt, because I pride myself on considering other people’s needs” names an impact without labeling their identity.
Watch for red-alert phrases
These are a tell that your mouth is moving faster than your motivation check:
“I’m just going to be really honest here.”
“I might regret saying this.”
“This may be hard for you to hear.”
When you hear yourself reach for one, pause.
The same goes for urgency. Urgency is suspicious; it’s often less about supporting your partner’s growth and more about you attempting to control the moment or proving a point because of your own uncomfortable feelings. When you feel the urgency to get your point across, that is the most important time to stay quiet and get self-reflective. Ask yourself what’s fueling your observation. Do I believe this serves my partner’s growth? Or is part of me invested in making them the problem so that I don’t have to be?
Your practice this month
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Start by asking yourself:
- Am I stating this as fact, or offering it as my perception?
- Am I describing their character, or behavior and impact?
- Am I reaching for a red-alert phrase, or am I leading with care and curiosity?
- Am I feeling urgent and impulsive, or am I feeling spacious and trusting?
- Prep them. “Can we find a time to talk about something?”
- Regulate yourself first. Come from a calm place. If your partner feels like you’re flying off the handle, they will reflexively get defensive, and your concern will not be heard.
- Name your hesitation. “This isn’t easy for me to say, and I’m a little worried about how it will land.”
If it’s spoken as absolute truth, it’s probably criticism. If it’s offered as perspective, it’s probably feedback.
Xo,
Dr. Alexandra
