A coworker questions your proposal during a meeting. You think, She wants to undermine me in front of the team.
Your spouse walks into the room, says very little, and begins looking at a phone. You think, She’s still angry. She’s trying to punish me.
A friend does not return your message. You think, I’m obviously not that important to her.
In each situation, something happened. But almost immediately, we added a story about what it meant and why the other person acted as they did.
The story may be true. It may be partly true. Or it may have little to do with what is actually happening.
The problem is that we rarely experience our stories as stories. When we fall into the habit of assuming others’ motives, we experience them as facts.
We See Behavior but Infer Motives
We have direct access to our own thoughts, feelings, and intentions. We know when we are tired, worried, distracted, or trying to help.
However, we don’t have the same access to another person’s inner world. We observe their words, tone, facial expressions, and behavior, and then interpret what those things mean. We see the behavior, but we infer the motive.
Someone interrupts us, and we conclude they do not respect us. Someone fails to follow through, and we decide they do not care. Someone disagrees with us, and we assume they are trying to be difficult. Someone withdraws, and we interpret the silence as rejection or manipulation.
Because others’ motives are invisible, the mind fills in what it cannot see. It creates a story that makes the behavior understandable.
This is not necessarily a flaw. We could not navigate relationships without interpreting their motives. The danger comes when we forget that we are interpreting and treat our conclusions as the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Behavior Becomes Motive—and Motive Becomes Character
Our stories often develop in a predictable way.
We begin with something observable: “You did not consult me before making the decision.” Then we assign a motive: “You wanted to control the outcome.” Finally, we make a judgment about character: “You are selfish and controlling.”
Within moments, a specific behavior has become evidence of who the other person is.
This progression changes the conversation. It is one thing to discuss a decision made without consultation. It is much harder to have a productive conversation about whether someone is fundamentally selfish, uncaring, manipulative, or irresponsible.
When we attack someone’s character, they naturally defend their character. So the conversation moves away from the behavior that could be understood or changed and toward a struggle over identity.
The other person may respond: “I am not selfish. You’re the one who always has to get your way.”
Now both people are defending themselves and prosecuting the other. The original concern has disappeared beneath competing judgments.
We Explain Ourselves Differently
There is another reason our stories create conflict. We often interpret our own behavior more generously than we interpret the behavior of others.
- When I speak sharply, I know I am under pressure. When you speak sharply, I may decide you are disrespectful.
- When I forget something, I know I have too much on my mind. When you forget, I may assume you do not care.
- When I withdraw, I may believe I am trying to calm down. When you withdraw, I may conclude you are punishing me.
We explain our own behavior in light of our circumstances and intentions. We are more likely to explain another person’s behavior in terms of their character and this difference can leave each person feeling misunderstood. Both know the complexity of their own experience, while encountering the other mainly through visible behavior.
Emotional maturity asks us to recognize that the other person has an inner world as complex as our own.
Our Stories Shape Our Reactions
The meaning we assign to an event affects what happens next.
Suppose your spouse is quiet during dinner.
- If your story is, He must be tired, you may respond with patience.
- If your story is, He is upset with me, you may become anxious.
- If your story is, He is deliberately shutting me out, you may respond with anger or withdrawal.
The behavior is the same. Your interpretation changes your emotional experience and your response.
Your response may then influence what the other person does. If you become critical because you assume your spouse is punishing you, he may withdraw further. His withdrawal then appears to confirm your original conclusion. We often unknowingly create the very pattern we fear.
This is why taking responsibility for our perceptions–and catching ourselves assuming others’ motives–is so important. We do not choose every thought that enters our mind, but we can become aware of the stories we are telling and decide whether to act on them without examination.
Strong Emotions Make Stories Feel More Certain
Stories become especially convincing when we feel threatened, hurt, or afraid, in other words, in the middle of a key moment. Our attention narrows. We look for an explanation that will help us make sense of what is happening. Once we form that explanation, we notice evidence that supports it.
For example, if I believe:
- My spouse does not value my opinion, I remember the times she made decisions without me. I may overlook the many times she sought my input.
- A coworker is trying to undermine me, every question sounds suspicious. I may fail to notice that he asks equally challenging questions of everyone.
- My teenager is irresponsible, I interpret each mistake as further proof. Acts of responsibility become exceptions rather than information that might require me to revise my story.
Our feelings are real and important. But the strength of a feeling does not prove the accuracy of the interpretation that produced it.
Feeling rejected does not necessarily mean someone intended to reject us. Feeling controlled does not establish that the other person was trying to control us. Feeling disrespected does not give us complete knowledge of another person’s motives.
Certainly, the feeling deserves attention. And the story deserves examination.
Separate What Happened from the Story You Told
In The Art of Dialogue, Preparation includes examining our perceptions and assumptions before entering a difficult conversation. One practical way to do this is to separate the observable event from the meaning we assigned to it.
Ask yourself two questions: What did I actually observe? What did I conclude that it meant?
For example:
Observation: My supervisor reassigned part of my project without discussing it with me. Story: She does not trust me and is trying to reduce my influence.
Observation: My spouse did not respond when I described what happened at work. Story: He is not interested in my life.
Observation: My daughter declined our invitation to Sunday dinner for the third week in a row. Story: She is pulling away from the family.
The observations may be accurate. The stories may also contain some truth. But separating them reminds us that they are not identical, which creates room to explore before coming to a conclusion.
Look for Other Possible Explanations
Once you recognize your story, ask: What else might explain this behavior?
Your supervisor may be trying to balance workloads. Your spouse may be preoccupied with a problem you know nothing about. Your daughter may be overwhelmed, managing another relationship, or needing more independence.
The goal is not to replace a negative assumption with a positive one. We can be just as mistaken when we make excuses for harmful behavior or insist that someone must have meant well. Nor do we need to decide which alternative explanation is true. Considering other possibilities simply reminds us that we do not yet know.
Remain open—and, when appropriate, ask. That posture allows you to enter the conversation with curiosity rather than accusation.
Test Your Perception
We cannot resolve uncertainty entirely within our own minds. Instead of assuming others’ motives, at some point, we simply need to ask. Testing a perception means describing what you observed, acknowledging your interpretation, and inviting the other person’s perspective.
You might say: “When you became quiet after I brought up the trip, I wondered whether you were upset with me. Is that what was happening?”
“When my responsibilities were changed without a conversation, I interpreted that as a lack of confidence in me. I’d like to understand your thinking.”
“When you declined dinner again, I began wondering whether something about these gatherings has been uncomfortable for you. Am I reading that correctly?”
Each statement distinguishes between what happened and what you made it mean.
Notice the difference between saying, “You were trying to embarrass me,” and “I felt embarrassed and found myself wondering whether you were making a point at my expense.”
The first statement announces the other person’s motive. The second owns your experience and tests your perception.
Listen to the Answer
Testing a perception is not useful if we ask the question but refuse to consider the answer.
Sometimes the other person will offer an explanation that changes our understanding. At other times, they may acknowledge that our perception was accurate. Frequently, the truth will be more complicated than either person’s initial account.
Listening does not require unquestioning acceptance. People are not always fully aware of their motives, and they are not always truthful about them. Patterns of behavior also matter. Still, we should be cautious about claiming greater certainty about another person’s inner world than they have themselves.
Listen for information you did not have. Ask follow-up questions. Notice where your experiences differ. Be willing to revise your story when the evidence calls for it.
Understanding Motives Does Not Erase Impact
Even when we discover that the other person’s motive was different from what we assumed, the impact of the behavior may still need attention.
Your spouse may not have intended to dismiss you, but you may still have felt dismissed.
Your coworker may not have intended to undermine you, but raising the concern publicly may still have created a problem.
Your friend may not have intended to neglect the relationship, but the lack of contact may still be painful.
Healthy dialogue makes room for both intention and impact.
You can say:
“I appreciate knowing that you weren’t trying to exclude me. I’d still like us to talk about how decisions like this are made.”
“I believe that you were trying to help. The way it happened was embarrassing for me.”
“I understand that you’ve been overwhelmed. I also miss our friendship and want to talk about how we stay connected.”
Correcting a mistaken assumption does not require you to dismiss your experience or abandon a legitimate concern.
When the Pattern Is Real
We should not use uncertainty about motives to ignore repeated behavior. If someone regularly lies, breaks commitments, ridicules you, or violates boundaries, you do not need definitive knowledge of their motives before responding. You can address the behavior and its impact.
You might say:
“I cannot know everything you intended, but this has happened several times, and it is damaging my trust.”
“I’m not going to argue about why you said it. I need the name-calling to stop.”
“I understand that you see this differently. I am still not willing to be treated this way.”
Testing perceptions rather than assuming others’ motives is a form of humility, not permission for others to avoid accountability. We can remain open about motives while being clear about patterns, consequences, and boundaries.
Hold Your Stories with Humility
We all tell stories about other people. We have to. Relationships require us to interpret words, behavior, and meaning. But emotional maturity asks us to hold those stories with humility.
We can distinguish what we observed from what we inferred. We can notice when behavior has become a judgment about character. We can look for explanations we have not considered. We can test our perceptions rather than treating them as facts. And we can remain honest about impact without claiming certainty about intent.
The next time you find yourself thinking, I know why they did that, pause. Ask yourself:
- What do I know?
- What am I assuming?
- What else might be true?
Then, when appropriate, take your questions into dialogue.
The story you have told may be accurate. But it may also be keeping you from seeing the person—and the possibilities—more clearly.
