It’s important to talk and it’s important to do it clearly but respectfully.

I’m learning how vital communication is more and more with each day. How? From the immense frustration I experience from miscommunication or the sheer lack of communication altogether.

Tons of my friends over the years have shared their exasperation over some annoying habit their roommate has, or something their roommate said or did. We’ve all experienced something like it before — their big mess that creeps onto your neat side of the room, their blaring music that blows out your eardrums, their boyfriend or girlfriend you feel like you’re dating because he/she is in your room so much, etc. You’re uniquely created people sharing a confined space; it happens.

It makes sense for my friends to release their frustrations. But for the most part, I also understand where their roommate might be coming from, too. I don’t think most roommates are malicious or out to get us (but if you’re one of the few who do have roommates like that, I’m so sorry). They’re just going about their business.

We all tend to get caught up in our own little worlds.

So let’s all just put it out there and admit that most of us are not telepathic. In order to make up for our mind-reading deficiency, we need to open our mouths and talk. We need to tell each other what’s bothering us, or else the problem will continue and one of two things will happen: a) your frustration will build into anger and seep out into your relationships with other people in your life, or b) your head will eventually explode.

Neither option sounds very beneficial, for you or anyone else.

Speaking of head explosions, I’ve also experienced what it’s like to communicate poorly with friends and family back home. Unlike many people (especially girls), I’ve never been a big fan of talking on the phone. I saw my family and friends every week, if not every day, and never saw the need to talk on the phone for hours when I had just spent the last 24 hours with them.

Imagine, then, what it was like for me to go from seeing them every day to being a four-hour drive away, with me investing so much time in my life here at Binghamton. Yes, that’s right — I got caught up in my own little world in Binghamton. And we’ve already talked about what happens when we get caught up in our own little worlds.

I hated phone calls, gave up on letter writing and wasn’t consistent with e-mails. I didn’t make much effort to touch base with my family or friends at all. I got all flustered when they didn’t seem to make the effort for me and was completely confused as to why my friends were getting frustrated with me. And because we lack mind-reading abilities, my relationship with my family and friends either ceased to exist or hung by a thread.

Fortunately, that’s not where most of my relationships with my friends and family back home stand now. After freshman year, we all took initiative. Either my friends or family brought the issue up with me or I just went up and confronted them.

Believe me, taking initiative is never easy. It requires the combination of being aware of the situation and caring enough to do something about it, not one or the other. Sometimes it may not even work the first time. It takes a lot of practice.

But weigh the cost of what happens when you stay silent to what happens when you speak up, and I think you’ll end up comparing exploding heads and broken relationships to the possibility of being somewhere better than you were before.