In this voice message, I talk about the concept of intent vs. impact. I share my “flaming sword” metaphor, point out the dangers of assuming ill intent in relationships, and touch on the importance of assessing your own intent and impact.
If you missed the first voice message and want a full explanation, have a listen. Basically, this is a more polished and prepared version of the voice messages I send my friends. I have no fixed length in mind—each one will be the minimum length necessary for me to make my point (without my signature babbling).
I’d love to know your thoughts on this audio transmission! Feel free to leave a comment, or email me at elusivekrystyna@gmail.com.
P.S. By request, I’ve added a transcript of this voice message below. Let me know if you appreciate it!
Transcript:
Welcome to another episode of Thinking Out Loud. This is the podcast-length voice message I would send you if we were friends.
The subject of this episode is exactly what it says on the tin, so to speak: intent vs. impact. These are really broad concepts, so before going any further, I'm going to define these terms:
For intent, the most relevant definition for my purposes is this one from Merriam Webster: "the state of mind with which an act is done."
For impact, I like this definition from the American Heritage Dictionary: "The effect or impression of one person or thing on another."
So why do I want to discuss these concepts?
Well, intent and impact—whether your own or someone else's—are almost always discussed during interpersonal conflicts.
People will make statements about the intent of another person, such as: "Well, they didn't mean to hurt me." or "They're not a malicious person."
And people will make statements about their own intent, such as: "I didn't do it on purpose." or "Well, I was just trying to help."
Sometimes people dispute the impact: "It wasn't that bad." or "You're taking this too seriously."
Both intent and impact matter. They rest on two sides of a scale. So how do you know when to place more weight on one of the sides of that scale than the other?
There's obviously no one perfect answer to that question, and there are many ways to look at it. When I had the idea for this podcast, I knew that the main idea I was going to share is this metaphor that I came up with for assessing intent vs impact, which I call "the flaming sword" metaphor.
I first articulated this metaphor in November 2022, in a voice message I sent to a friend.
Let me lay this out for you:
Imagine you're dealing with a person—whether it's a friend, romantic partner, or a family member—who has a flaming sword, and they're swinging it around wildly and they hit you with it. And it was completely unintentional, and they're sorry, and they apologize to you. And you accept the apology, but the thing is, when they hit you with the flaming sword, you got cut and burned, so you say to them, "Can you try to get a handle on this sword you're wielding and not do it again?" And they say, "Sure, of course." And maybe that's the end of it. Maybe they normally have a good handle on the flaming sword, they just got careless for a minute, or they had never stood so close to someone before, and they just weren't aware of their potential to cause harm. But sometimes, that's not the end of it. Maybe they strike you with this flaming sword again and again, and it becomes clear that they have no ability to control it. They have no ability to put the sword down; it's surgically attached to their hands. And who knows, maybe at some point in the future, they'll figure it out. But by that point, you'll be covered in burns, an unrecognizable husk of yourself. So when you reach a point where the damage you're sustaining is severe enough, either because each blow from the sword is severe, or because you've taken enough hits that the overall damage is severe, that's the moment where impact outweighs intent.
At that point, you need to protect yourself. Sometimes this means distancing yourself from someone you've become close to. Sometimes you can just take a few steps back, out of the range of the sword, but close enough to still interact with that person. But sometimes you need to completely disconnect. Maybe they don't have a flaming sword, they have flaming throwing stars, or flaming arrows. Their weapons, unfortunately, have range.
When you first connect with a new person, you have the opportunity to make a decision about how deep to go with them. How close to stand, metaphorically speaking. In the past, I would stand very close to people, taking flaming blow after flaming blow. I had many limiting beliefs that kept me stuck in those situations, unable to step away. I'd think, "Sure, this person is slowly destroying me, but they care about me—how can I abandon them? There's got to be a way to fix this. I just have to keep absorbing these blows."
At this point in my life, if I see that a person is wielding a weapon they can't control, whether it's a flaming sword, or flaming nunchucks, well... I wish them all the best. I hope they figure out how to control that flaming weapon so they stop hurting people. If possible, I may give them some tips on how to begin learning to exercise control over that weapon. But until they do, I'm going to protect myself. I'm going to choose not to allow them to set me on fire or cut me to shreds. I'm going to stand far enough away that I'm out of range.
It's helpful to know that someone has good intentions despite whatever negative impact they may be having. That means it's likely you can have a dialogue with them. That means it's possible to make them aware of the negative impact of their actions. That means there's a possibility for change.
But good intent is not a get out of jail free card.
In the toxic friendship I've written about many times, good intent was repeatedly used as a defense for any negative impact. I came to know this person so deeply that I knew most of their beliefs and values. And when it came to close friendships, this person believed that as long their intentions were good, it didn't matter how much their actions hurt. The other person should just deal with it, "absorb it," etc.
For example: They thought I was overreacting when I asked for an apology for standing me up for a phone call (I had to ask, because they didn't offer one). When I asked them not to give me unsolicited criticism because I found it painful, they thought I was being unreasonable. They would stop for a while, then just do it again. And during my major health crisis, they told me they thought "some of the things I was experiencing weren't real," and they refused to apologize because it was their right as my best friend to intervene when they thought I was in danger. And any attempts they did make to control their flaming sword were seen as a huge imposition, as a huge sacrifice they were making for me. Never mind the sacrifice I was making by continuing to absorb those blows.
A nuance I'd like to bring up is that sometimes people genuinely believe they have a certain intent, but it's a delusion. And I've had enough relationship experience at this point to be pretty good at telling the difference between someone who genuinely has good intent despite any negative impact they may be causing, and someone who only believes they have good intent.
When you truly care about someone, seeing them in pain hurts you, at least a little. And knowing that you've had a hand in that pain hurts more. But there was little concern from this friend for the impact they were having on me, for the pain I was experiencing. They were mostly concerned with their own comfort, with their ability to just wave their flaming sword around without complaints.
And further, this person never fully grasped that they were holding a flaming sword.
Sometimes that's because, like in this case, there's a layer of delusion in the way, but sometimes it's just because you haven't even given them the opportunity to see themselves as a flaming sword wielder.
Years ago, I said something to a close friend that hurt their feelings, and instead of mentioning it to me at the time, whether in that exact moment, or two days later, or even a week or a month later, they assumed ill intent on my part. They assumed I was being mean on purpose. And this led to a fight over a year later, when they had a strange reaction to me telling them something I expected them to be happy about, and instead, they confessed this hurt they'd been holding on to, based on words I had no recollection of saying or typing. I basically told them, "Look, I am your friend. I am your close friend. I was never trying to be mean to you. So if I say something to you and you think I'm being mean on purpose, I need you to either assume you just took it the wrong way and let it go, or tell me how what I did or said made you feel, within a reasonable timeframe. Say something like, 'Hey, I know you probably didn't mean it that way, but you said this thing, and this is how I perceived it, this is how it made me feel."
I know it's hard if you're a conflict-averse person, but if you don't let the person in question know about the negative impact of their actions, then you won't get the chance to learn their intent. You'll miss the chance to allow them to apologize and change. And if you stay in the relationship anyway, then you'll inevitably become resentful.
I think it's almost impossible to be close to someone if you ascribe ill intent to them by default or even the majority of the time. Unless they state that ill intent, for example, "Yeah, I was lashing out" or "Yeah, I wanted to hurt you," then you should assume good intent, even in the face of negative impact. Being generous with the other person's intentions is—in my view—a foundational piece of a healthy, sustainable relationship.
In long-term relationships, if one or both parties are constantly saying, "You're trying to hurt me," that signifies a lack of trust. Underneath that statement is a belief like "I don't trust you to act with care toward me" or "I don't trust that you have my best interests at heart."
Most relationships that get to that place, if no counseling is sought or is effective, end, often painfully.
But if they don't, if you stay in a relationship where the other person repeatedly demonstrates ill intent... that can cause long-term emotional damage.
Years ago, a different friend was in the beginning stages of a serious romantic relationship, and whenever they talked about the issues they were having in the relationship, they kept saying, "They did this to hurt me." At the time, I was genuinely confused by this. My reaction was, if you genuinely believe that they're doing these things intentionally to hurt you, why are you staying with them? You're not married to this person. You don't have kids with this person. You don't own property with this person. If you genuinely believe that they repeatedly do things intentionally to hurt you, then get out of the relationship.
But now I can see that it was likely an attempt to heal a relational wound. This friend had been in a years-long, emotionally abusive relationship, and they had been told by their partner at various times that their hurtful actions were done on purpose.
It's obviously more complicated in situations where the relationship starts breaking down after you share children, property, and decades of life together, but in general, ninety percent of the time, the intentions of the people you're close to should be good. Maybe they cause negative impact, but baseline, their intentions should be good. If they're not, in my opinion, proceeding is a doomed endeavor.
I've spent most of this episode discussing how to weigh intent vs. impact when it comes to other people in your life. However, I feel compelled to discuss looking in the mirror and assessing yourself in the same way.
For example, in the aforementioned toxic friendship, by the end of it, I realized that I no longer had good intent toward them. That was a large part of what allowed me to finally step away. I realized that I had become so damaged by their flaming sword, that I had started to stop caring if good things happened to them. I had started to stop caring if I hurt them with anything I did or said. I no longer respected them. Staying in that situation for years, absorbing the blows from their flaming sword, had broken me down so completely that there was no solution except to step away.
But that's an extreme example.
One good way to start examining your intent vs. your impact is just to ask yourself: What are the things I continually say I'm going to do, but don't actually do?
Think about things that someone else has asked you to do, whether it's some change in your behavior, or some form of help they've requested.
Do you keep telling a friend that you'll take a look at their manuscript but you never do? Even if your intent is good, that is, you intend to help them, the fact is that you're not helping them, and at a certain point, your friend is going to feel annoyed or angry or sad. They might feel like you don't care. They might feel like you're not a reliable person.
Has your partner asked you to stop leaving your socks all over the bedroom floor, yet you keep doing it anyway? Even if your intention is good, even if what's happening is that you just keep forgetting, at the end of the day, the impact is negative. Your partner feels like you can't or won't listen to a simple request. And every time they go in the bedroom and see those socks on the floor, resentment builds. And they may stop reminding you, because they feel like they're wasting their breath.
Intent cannot just be something that exists in your mind. Intent begins within, but eventually, if your actions aren't in line with your intent, you need to reassess.
And even if you do make your good intent known, that doesn't mean it's a shield against any attempts from a friend, family member, spouse, etc. pointing out the negative impact of your actions.
My former friend kept giving me unsolicited criticism with the excuse that their intention was to help, but it didn't make it hurt any less.
And recently, I had a hand in some major negative impact, and I've been heavily reflecting on how I've felt inclined to use my own good intent as a shield. I'm trying to give myself some grace, to not beat myself up about it, because I'm not perfect, I wasn't the only one involved, and it's entirely possible that even if I had made different choices, the outcome would've been very similar. I can't run that sliding doors experiment. But at the end of the day, the damage is done. I was partially responsible for hitting someone with a huge flaming sword. And I know it's an experience I'll be thinking about for a long time.
One last thing I'll point out is that sometimes this is a compatibility issue. One's person flaming sword is another person's harmless pool noodle. Getting hit with it is annoying, but not really damaging. For me, someone standing me up and forgetting entirely about plans is a huge flaming sword. Even one instance of this is enough to take out most of my emotional health points. But for some people, it's not that big of a deal.
So, just because someone is essentially telling you that you're wielding a flaming sword, that may not mean that you should change your behavior. If that's a behavior that's just a part of your personality that you can't foresee changing—for example, you just come across as really abrasive to some people—then it might just be a sign to step away from that person, whether entirely, or just to change the context in which you interact. For example, maybe you can be friends but not roommates.
Though I do recommend that whenever someone takes the time to tell you how your actions have impacted them, especially if you care about that person, to reflect on whether there's truth to what they're saying. And, if you value that relationship, to see if you can change your behavior to mitigate the negative impact on them. To see if you can take control of your flaming sword.
The tricky reality is, most people aren't malicious. Malicious people are out there, don't get me wrong. There are all kinds of people running around who either don't care about anyone else or who actively take pleasure in causing other people pain.
But that's not most people. Most people mean well despite any negative impact they may be having on you or others. So if your metric for giving someone the benefit of the doubt, for letting actions slide, for keeping them in your life, etc. is "Well, they didn't do this because they enjoy inflicting pain on me," you're going to end up dealing with a lot of hurtful actions, getting resentful and maybe even traumatized.
I'll leave you with this thought. My therapist once told me that, in her view, most people are doing their best... it's just that—unfortunately—sometimes their best isn't very good.
And I'll let you contemplate that in the context of other people in your life and how other people might view you. How good is their best? How good is your best? Food for thought.
So, those are the thoughts that I have for you this month that I thought would be best transmitted in audio format. As always, feel free to leave a comment if you're comfortable posting publicly. If you prefer to comment privately, feel free to e-mail me. I hope you have a good day whenever you're listening to this, and bye for now.
Share this post