One of my blind spots is this:
If something would be helpful to me to hear, I can assume it would be helpful for others too.
That assumption isn’t malicious.
It comes from sincerity, curiosity, and a genuine desire for understanding.
But I’m learning that readiness matters as much as insight.
Depth isn’t the problem
I don’t think my issue is that I go too deep.
Depth is how I make sense of the world.
It’s how I connect.
It’s how I regulate.
For a long time, that depth lived mostly inside me.
I asked myself the questions.
I reflected internally.
I carried it alone.
Recently, for the first time in my life, I’ve been in environments where I’m invited to externalise that process — in groups, in training, in shared reflection.
Of course there’s excitement.
Of course there’s energy.
Of course some of it spills.
That doesn’t mean something is wrong.
It means something has finally been allowed.
The blind spot: assuming consent where there isn’t any
Here’s the part I’m learning to sit with.
Just because I find reflection helpful
doesn’t mean others are ready to receive it.
Even gentle reflections can feel intrusive if:
- there isn’t enough relational safety yet
- the container isn’t clear
- the person hasn’t asked
What feels like curiosity to me can land as exposure for someone else.
That doesn’t make them fragile.
And it doesn’t make me wrong.
It means depth needs pacing.
Insight without timing can overwhelm
I’m good at noticing patterns.
Tone.
Language.
Incongruence.
Unspoken dynamics.
But seeing something isn’t the same as being invited to name it.
I’m learning that maturity here isn’t about silencing myself.
It’s about asking a quieter question first:
Who does this reflection belong to right now?
Sometimes it belongs to the group.
Sometimes to the individual.
Sometimes only to me.
Holding a reflection doesn’t mean denying it.
It means respecting the moment.
Why this blind spot exists at all
This isn’t a random flaw.
It comes from years of:
- living internally
- making sense alone
- learning that reflection was how I survived
Now that I’m in shared spaces, my system is still catching up.
There’s a part of me that lights up and thinks:
“We can talk about this here.”
Sometimes that’s true.
Sometimes it’s early.
Learning the difference is the work.
What I’m practising instead
Not shrinking.
Not shaming myself.
Not going flat.
Just adding one more skill to the mix:
Relational consent.
Before reflecting, I’m learning to check:
- Is this wanted?
- Is this the right container?
- Is there enough safety?
- Or am I emptying my own process into the space?
Depth doesn’t disappear when I wait.
It ripens.
A closing truth
People who never go deep don’t have this problem.
This blind spot only appears once you’re already:
- self-aware
- reflective
- alive
- and learning how to be with others, not just yourself
I don’t want to lose my depth.
I’m learning how to carry it with care.
That feels like growth.