M. Suzanne Terry

Incredibly, this is the closest thing I have to a picture of me in a cape.

I really like knowing things. And I like being helpful. These are both good traits by themselves. But with their powers combined, they can be really annoying.

In conversations, I will often give advice. Sometimes, it’s welcome, and it’s a positive experience for both of us. But other times, I know as soon as I say it, it’s unwanted. One might think that at this point I would stop talking. Unfortunately, one would be mistaken. Despite the clear signs of disinterest – the pressing together of the lips, the glassy eyes, the faltering eye contact – I storm straight ahead, not exactly oblivious but not quite sure how to make my mouth stop moving.

It doesn’t help that my career choices act as enablers. No matter what my job title is, I tend to end up in the role of teacher or trainer. I like teaching, but when imparting knowledge is your job, it’s sometimes hard to shut those floodgates.

My habits are enablers, too. I read voraciously, broadly, and deeply. My side hustle is SEO writing, which requires me to learn about things I normally wouldn’t choose to learn, like car parts and marine cargo insurance. When I read the news, I try to read from various sources that lean toward different parts of the political spectrum so that I can pull out the things they agree on (that’s the news – everything else is commentary) and wrestle with my own conclusions. I like reading the work of writers and journalists who are similar to me, but I learn more from reading the work of those who aren’t, so I try to keep a healthy balance of both.

Most people will say reading is a good thing, and I agree and also love it, so I’m not going to stop. But when someone is talking about a topic I’ve read a lot (and thus thought a lot) about, it’s excruciatingly difficult not to interject my two cents, even if it’s clear they aren’t interested in it.

Hello, my name is Suzanne, and sometimes I act like an insufferable know-it-all.

[Aside: I only consider this a weakness concerning unwanted advice. If you ask my advice, I will give it, and I will give it thoroughly, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Fair warning though – if you ask for my advice a lot and consistently don’t take it, that might be my kryptonite – the one thing that can make me refrain from giving you advice at all. Don’t be an askhole. I mean, you have the right to live your life and make all your own choices, free of my input (which, frankly, is a lot healthier than depending on me – or anyone – to tell you what to do). So if that’s what you want…do that and quit asking what I think.]

[Aside P.S.: If you are wondering if the statement above is about you, rest assured that if it is, I have already said it to your face. Possibly in those exact words.]

Occasionally, though, there comes a golden moment.

I’ll be rambling on about what they should do, see the signs that they aren’t open to what I’m saying, and manage to stop. They’ll usually proceed – cautiously – and when it’s my turn in the conversation again, I get to ask them questions about the things they said so that I can really understand where they’re coming from. Once I’m able to catch myself, it’s pretty easy to shift back into the role of listener. Because at its root, listening begins with gathering information.

And I’m super at that.