He says he’s defending you, and he’s the one accusing you?
Leave the room
Look at where you stand after each discussion. Not at what he says he wants for you.
The net closes in
He holds your hand. He’s there to defend you, he told you so. And he opens the trial.
— “The accused will rise. Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”
— “I swear, Your Warship.”
— “Is it true that you are, and I quote: too different and too sensitive? Answer! Or forever hold your peace!”
— “True, Your Warship. Sometimes I’m a bit too emotional, but that’s normal for a planet.”
— “Objection, Your Warship, the accused is making unfounded judgements without proof.”
— “Objection sustained, answer in one sentence!”
He plays the Council of Elders, the judge and the lawyer, all by himself. He asks the question, and he objects to his own question.
Extract from chapter 25 — Advice Against
Trap
You don’t leave, precisely because he seems to be on your side. You don’t walk out on someone who’s defending you. So you stay, you explain yourself, and with every sentence you lose ground.
You have arguments, good ones, you even have proof. But every time you score a point, the rules change.
This isn’t a discussion, it’s a trial
“On his nameplate, I read: Counsel Against.”
He isn’t trying to understand you, he’s after a verdict. You don’t lose because you’re wrong: you lose because winning was never the point.
How do you get out?
You plead guilty, and you leave.
- Plead guilty. Guilty of being too sensitive, too imperfect, too free. Take the sentence, say thank you politely.
- Ask to leave. “May I go?” And go.
- Stop feeding it. No last word. No “but even so”. No message at 11 p.m. to set the record straight.
— “I’d rather be free than be right.”
Pleading guilty isn’t giving up
You don’t admit to any wrong and you don’t give up anything. You refuse to play. What you give up is the idea that he’ll end up saying you’re right. He won’t, and you don’t need him to.
How can you tell if it’s rigged, or if you’re the one acting in bad faith?
Look at one thing only: has the subject stayed the same since the start?
In a real discussion, you can be wrong and the subject doesn’t budge. In a trial, the subject moves every time you score a point.
And what if he says you’re running away?
He will. It’s even on the programme. Leaving isn’t running away from a subject, it’s refusing a format. You can say it just like that — “I’m happy to talk about it again, but not like this” — and leave anyway.
What it changes
You get back the hours you used to spend pleading. And the burden drops: as long as you’re pleading, you’re the one carrying the case. The moment you leave, he carries it on his own.
Remember
Look at where you stand, not at what he says he wants for you.
If the subject moves every time you score a point, it’s a trial.
I didn’t lose. I left the room.
Practical guide 05 — Leave the room
“My pen is my NO.”
The novel The Hammock and the Hummingbirds, by Karine Baridon.
Guide 04 — Write down the proof
Watch the hummingbirds