I got a handwritten note from a friend last week. She had to drop something off for me, so she included several paragraphs of updates about her family.
The note was newsy and seemingly happy, but my gut told me she wasn’t doing well. Some tiny whisper in my mind told me to pay attention to a few words that didn’t quite fit with the rest. And then I suddenly knew — without knowing why — that my friend was miserably unhappy. She was stressed and crumbling inside, despite all the happy talk.
I picked up the phone and called her. I told her that I could tell she’s not doing well and that she was hiding what stress was doing to her. I asked what I could do to help.
“How did you know?!” she asked in a tone of shock. “The people I work with think I’m fine. My family thinks I’m fine. You hardly ever talk to me, so how did you know this about me? You’re right, but how did you know?”
The answer to that is complicated. I don’t read minds. I’m not a psychic. But I do read subtle clues from other people, especially in person. Nobody purposely taught me this skill. In fact, the way I learned was very unhealthy. But it’s a skill that all children need to learn.

I used to ponder who I really am; today I just ask who I am for now
I choose love over hate, because the author of the story’s not done
You can’t see inside my heart, but my words invite you to know me
What if biggest risk to our lives comes from our own unhappiness?
Time and maturity should change what we believe we need in mates
We’re often oblivious to what matters in life until it’s too late
Black Friday orgy of consumerism makes me very uncomfortable