Ask Clearly

Hunter has never once wondered whether wanting something makes him needy.

When he wants breakfast, he asks for breakfast.

When he wants affection, a head appears beneath your hand.

When a closed door stands between him and wherever he has decided he belongs, he makes his position known.

There is very little ambiguity.

Humans are more complicated.

We soften our requests. We hint. We wait for someone to notice. We say it doesn't matter when sometimes it does. We worry that asking for what we want will make us demanding, selfish, difficult, or somehow too much.

And then we are disappointed when no one reads our minds.

Hunter seems unconcerned with this problem.

He asks.

Sometimes the answer is yes.

Sometimes the answer is no.

And remarkably, neither outcome appears to alter his fundamental opinion of himself.

Perhaps that's the part worth noticing.

Asking clearly isn't the same as demanding.

It doesn't guarantee an answer we will like.

It simply gives another person the opportunity to know us.

There is a kind of vulnerability in that.

And maybe a kind of freedom, too.

Wanting something doesn't make you difficult.

What would you ask for if you didn't have to apologize for wanting it?