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Boundaries

The Key to Handling Over-Talkers: Speak Up Rather Than Avoid

Personal Perspective: Compassionate tactics for dealing with conversational narcissism.

Key points

  • We encourage over-talking when we don’t speak up about it and establish our needs and boundaries.
  • People tend to over-talk when they’re hungry for attention and validation. Interrupt with compassion.
  • Avoidance and excuses may get you out of over-talking situations, but don’t solve the deeper issue—self-care
Source: wayhomestudio / Freepik
Source: wayhomestudio / Freepik

Recently, my partner and I met a couple who spent the first 20 minutes of our acquaintance monopolizing the conversation. Suddenly, my partner gently and amiably blurted out, “I’m wondering if you’d like to hear something about our lives?”

There was a sudden startled silence while everyone took in this abrupt lane-change in the conversation; inside me bombs burst in air and men dove for cover. Though we've talked at great length about how to handle exactly these kinds of situations, I couldn’t believe she interrupted them so blatantly, though privately I was jumping up and down and clapping.

Being an inveterate people-pleaser, I tend to assume that interrupting people who are talking at me and dominating a conversation—that is, taking care of myself—will lead inexorably to awkwardness, embarrassment, and hurt feelings. And indeed, the few times I’ve seen someone call time-out on other people’s over-talking, those people do in fact look a little stricken—apologetic, guilty, embarrassed, even if they admit to appreciating the frankness.

Me, I’m generally so busy trying to head off the possibility of hurting people’s feelings that I neglect to take care of my own, and then I get mad at others for being selfish and oblivious rather that at myself for not speaking up.

The truth is, those of us who routinely find ourselves on the receiving end of conversational narcissism bear some responsibility for its proliferation, because we don’t address the problem head-on. We don’t alert people who are over-talking that we’re zoning out, or would prefer to share the conversation rather just be the listener, opting for avoidance rather than interruption.

And speaking for myself, avoidance tends to build up a charge of anger and indignation over time that has me judging people’s character (“over-talkers”) rather than their behavior (“over-talking”). And this compromises my ability to be compassionate, and understand that people tend to over-talk because they’re hungry for attention and validation (as am I, and I have my own strategies for attaining these precious commodities, which may well be off-putting to others).

Do any of these evasive tactics sound familiar: ducking when you see an over-talker coming, feigning another obligation, telling them you’ve gotta run when you don’t or have work to get done when you don’t, glancing blatantly at your watch, trying to drag some innocent bystander into the conversation so you can make an escape, or just avoiding their company altogether?

The problem is that though ducking and dodging may solve the immediate problem and give you an exit strategy, it doesn’t solve the deeper issue of self-care—which will still be there when you finish whatever work you claimed you had to do, and will follow you into all your interactions with others.

I recently ran across the following post in a Reddit thread on dealing with over-talking, and though the author was serious about the efficacy of these suggested tactics, they strike me as falling under the heading of what not to do: “Look as disengaged as possible. Shift weight from one foot to the other. Put your hands on your hips. Look at your phone. Look around the room. Don’t make eye contact.”

Why not just speak up rather than praying that the Earth will suddenly open up and swallow this person whole?

The fact is, interruption isn’t necessarily rude—certainly no more than hogging a conversation is rude—and the way my partner did it with the couple we’d met had no blame or shame behind it, not even a hint of exasperation. Just a straight-up change of subject, a gentle if somewhat abrupt asserting of ourselves into the conversation, shifting the dynamics of it to include all of us, not just the other couple. That is, creating an opportunity rather than waiting for one.

After a moment that felt to me like an eternity, the man responded by saying, “Oh. Yeah. Sure. Sorry. Yes, tell us something about yourselves.”

It turns out that over-talkers aren’t generally offended—or even surprised—if you interrupt them, or even outright ask to be included more in the conversation. They’ve undoubtedly been told before that they talk a lot, or too much, and some of them may even appreciate the interruption, as it gives them an opportunity to share conversation rather than dominate it, to learn something new rather than recite well-worn stories, and perhaps even realize that the means they’re using to try and connect with others may be having the opposite effect.

One of the unfortunate ironies of being an over-talker is that you seldom attain the thing you’re really after—connection—because most people take to their heels, tune you out, or develop covert signaling systems to indicate to others across a room: save me. And should you find yourself in a situation in which an over-talker suddenly comes around and realizes what they’re doing (“Am I talking too much?”), don’t deny this truth out of politeness. Give it a moment to sink in that this is precisely what they’re doing.

Conversation comes from a word meaning something like intimacy, but abused it’s antisocial, and over-talkers wind up constantly sowing seeds that don’t bear fruit. They want to ingratiate themselves but end up annoying people instead. “The single biggest problem in communication,” George Bernard Shaw once said, “is the illusion that it has taken place.”

But the point of speaking up with such people isn’t to change them or project-manage their personalities, both of which are losing propositions. It’s to advocate for yourself and manage the flow of conversation. So it’s best not to focus on what the other person is doing or not doing, but on what you want and need.

Try this: “Sorry, I’m lost. Can you boil it down for me?”

Or “Great point. I’d like to jump in with a response to what you’re saying.”

Or “Pardon my interruption. I’d like to see if I’ve understood what you’re saying, then I’d like to share a thought I have about it.”

Or “Hey, hope you don’t mind if I change the subject.”

Or “Can I pause you for a sec? I feel like I’m losing connection with you because I’ve got something I want to share about this topic, and trying not to forget it is undermining my attention. Would you mind if I shared it before I forget?”

And use nonverbal cues. Raise your finger (that universal signal requesting a pause), open your mouth, and lean forward. Most people will recognize this as an indication that you want to speak. (And for those who don’t, there’s a promising bit of research out of MIT that might be just the ticket. Folks in the Media Lab there have developed a device—originally designed for people with autism, who have difficulty picking up on social cues—which alerts the user if someone they’re talking to starts showing signs of boredom or annoyance. It consists of a camera small enough to be mounted on a pair of eyeglasses, connected to a hand-held computer that runs image-recognition software. If you fail to engage your listener, the computer vibrates.)

If someone doesn’t get the hint, or if being talked at is a regular feature of a particular relationship, you may have to escalate.

Possible tactic: “Can I pause you for a moment? I feel like our conversation is a little lopsided in terms of sharing airtime, and I tend to feel more engaged in conversations when there’s more back-and-forth. I really appreciate your passion for this subject, but I wonder if you’d be willing to share the airtime with me more?”

Another possible tactic: “Pardon the interruption, but I’m having a hard time concentrating on what you’re saying because you’re talking a lot, and I feel a bit overwhelmed. I’m wondering if you’re aware that you’re doing this?” Then, depending on your relationship, you might even suggest a hand signal so that if they’re in the middle of talking and you feel overwhelmed, you can raise your finger or tug on your ear or something, and that will be their cue that you'd like to chime in.

Granted, these interruptions will test the intestinal fortitude of people-pleasers and conflict-avoiders, but it may be just the breakthrough you need in speaking up for yourself. It will trade a moment of awkwardness for the possibility of real and even lasting change, of getting under your belt an explicit experience of honoring your own boundaries, asking others to honor them, and refusing to be victimized by over-talking. Besides, it’s better than saying, “Dude. Do you, like, ever shut up?”

The willingness to interrupt over-talkers and take initiative in redirecting conversations comes under the general heading of assertiveness. It’s about asking for what you want, and respecting (and insisting on respect for) your needs and boundaries, rather than letting others roll over you with either their words, their personalities, or their agendas.

Refusing to speak up for yourself in conversation is not only a microcosm of other arenas of your life, but it's an obstacle to the essential work of being seen and heard and known, and the very human hunger to truly connect with one another.

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