Passive, Aggressive, Assertive

Granny Lucy didn't take no shit

My great-grandmother, Lucy, was a pistol. She had this giant house where my uncles would sit on the porch and shoot feral cats with BB guns. The cauldrons in the backyard were used to make Brunswick stew for family reunions, and my mama often told me about her time climbing trees with Granny’s salt shaker, eating up all her sour apples. Lucy loved the hell out of us and simultaneously terrified us. She made the best skillet biscuits and didn’t take no shit from anyone. Farming land, birthing ten babies, losing some of them to disease and war, and living a long life on Earth, fortified her strength.

The women in my family are strong for good reason.

My favorite memory of her is visiting my grandma’s house after Lucy had major surgery. I came barreling through the front door that slapped hard on the hinges behind me, and she dragged herself one thud at a time in her wheelchair. 

“Nikki!” she said, an inch of ash hanging from her cigarette, “They took my leg!” She was mad as hell, ready to fight a kid, fight a doctor, fight a bear if she found one in front of her. Lucy’s leg had gone gangrene with diabetes. Her kids had to decide whether to let her die or chop off her leg.

Granny would rather be dead.

But she let me put my head on her big old chest as I sat down on her lap in the wheelchair and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Granny,” I whispered and buried myself in her musk and Marlboro smell. She died soon after, around my thirteenth birthday. I’m lucky to hold her memory in my heart. 

As aggressive as she was, Granny was passive, too. Boundaryless in some relationships and circumstances, yet bold and clear in others. The older I get, the more I realize how common that is. We process anger and big emotions in a wide variety of ways. Most people are a good combo of passive and aggressive, given the context, while hopefully working toward assertive communication. You know, cause some conversations and boundaries are necessary when lines get crossed.

“I know who you are…” Mountain Mama just needed to restore her heart and take a nap so all her things could be lush, green, and blooming again.

I like this scene in Moana because she’s lying dormant, dying. Te Fiti isn’t a bitter, angry lava monster; she’s a fertile, generous goddess who’s been robbed. Like so many women. As soon as she is seen, restored, and nurtured, her vitality returns.

Life beats us down, and people rob us of our time, energy, and resources. Pain keeps us without boundaries, stuck in systems that hurt or harm, and unable to say what we want, think, need, and feel. It takes effort and energy to develop the skills to not hold it all in but communicate, to not explode like a volcano but speak honestly in real-time.

Most people struggle to connect themselves to anger, but I hope this series is helping you see that it’s a regular emotion everyone faces. Moana and Te Fiti nose to nose reminds me of us as neighbors. What is better than being seen by a sister? Is there anything more refreshing than a friend who acknowledges your pain and encourages your healing? God, it’s good to grow together.

Alright now, let’s get into it: PASSIVE + AGGRESSIVE CHART

I know right?? How good is this chart? When I preached this message a few weeks ago, I realized I spent the first half of my life in a mostly passive state. My twenties are littered with relationships where people exploited my desire to help, built their lives, and achieved their goals on my back. Personal needs felt selfish, and making people uncomfortable or displeased with me made my skin crawl. I didn't know how to pick myself when there was a choice between me and anyone else. Can you relate? 

Through recovery, I finally identified with my anger, and boy, that chick turned extra aggressive in 2007. Full of side-eye and self-protection and I wish you would Grandma Lucy energy. (Did I start smoking again for a few years? I'll never tell.)

It's taken me time to become an assertive communicator who can own her needs, say them clearly, and lead above-board negotiations where my rights and others' rights are respected. I'm not perfect at this - the closer I am to someone, the more passive I prefer to be, but I live my life channeling big emotions like anger and anxiety in healthy ways. Through trying, failing, and succeeding, it's easier for me to communicate clearly during hard conversations, and I am not filled with shame if the words don't come out ideally. And I'm the queen of the circle back.

Big emotions and hard conversations are not one-and-dones. It takes as long as it takes.

We've got to resist the idea of perfection, prepare ourselves to process the feelings, and come back to the conversation as often as we need. Conflict and tension can produce greater intimacy and connection in a healthy relationship. Two people who are owning their part, saying sorry, making amends, and finding a way forward together, well…

It’s important to say that some of you are dealing with real jackasses. You can share your needs until you’re blue in the face, but these folks are not safe. They are incapable of communication where both people’s rights are valued and respected, or they’re emotionally immature but think they are God’s gift to the world. There’s no winning here - you can’t get on the same side of the problem to attack it together, so you get attacked or attack each other, and that’s a problem. Talk to loved ones or a third party (therapist, HR, trusted spiritual leader) and chart a path to emotional health with new boundaries. 

If I could give you anything besides a good meal, it might be the peace of mind that comes from assertive communication. 

Integrity is its own reward. 

Saying the thing that needs to be said with kindness and respect; doing the thing that needs to be done with generosity and compassion is transformative freedom. 

You’re worthy of respect and reciprocity. Knowing what you want, think, need, and feel is good. Part of self-care is communicating clearly without demanding or coercing anyone into an outcome. Let’s close with a little role play.

“Billy, when you did that, it made me feel so angry. Is that what you intended?”

“ No, Barbara, I’m so sorry for doing that. I wasn’t thinking about how that action might impact you. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, I can. I’m realizing that it really hurt because it reminded me of a family member who used to treat me like that. I know this situation is not that, but it made this sting more than it should have.”

“I can understand that. Thank you for sharing. Is there anything else you want to share?”

“Not right now, but I may need to circle back and talk this through again - would that be okay with you?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Thank you!! That makes me feel safe with you, and your response is helping me trust that it’s okay to talk about hard things with you. I don’t know if I’ll always say things right when I’m angry or hurt, so I appreciate your honesty and grace when I try.”

“Me either, so thank you for the same honesty and for allowing it to be okay to make mistakes in our relationship. That means a lot to me. I wasn’t able to do that growing up.”

“I understand that. Thank you for sharing.”

Listen, I’m no dummy. Things rarely go this smooth in real life, but if you’re anything like me, no one ever gave you a roadmap to help you say how you feel, connect it to a deeper wound, and walk through a process with someone else when you’re hurt or angry. Maturity is required here, but we can develop the skills necessary to talk this way with our loved ones. (The loved ones who are not jackasses, obvi.)

Be brave, neighbor. Assertive communication will change your whole life. But let’s agree to keep a little Granny Lucy generosity in our hearts and shade in our eyes, just in case.

Here’s a few pictures of Lucy from my Uncle Jin’s Facebook. I love ya’ll.