Sometimes the most important question in a relationship is not, “What do they say?” but “What chair are they offering me?”

There is something I have come to understand about human interaction that has changed the way I look at relationships.

Every time we interact with another person, they are, in some way, offering us a chair.

Not a physical chair.

A position.

A place.

A role.

A level of access to their life.

And if we pay attention, they are constantly showing us which chair they want us to occupy.

Sometimes they offer us the chair of a friend.

Sometimes the chair of a listener.

Sometimes the chair of a healer.

Sometimes the chair of a counsellor.

Sometimes the chair of an educator.

Sometimes the chair of a guide.

Sometimes they need us to simply sit beside them while they go through something difficult.

And there is nothing wrong with sitting in those chairs.

In fact, much of life is about being willing to sit in the chair that another person needs us to sit in.

But here is where it becomes important.

The chair someone needs you to occupy is not necessarily the chair you belong in.

We can spend so much of our lives sitting in chairs that other people have chosen for us that we eventually forget that we have a chair of our own.

And somewhere in the room, perhaps right at the back, there is another chair.

Your chair.

Your throne.

Not a throne because you are better than anybody else.

A throne because it represents the place where you are completely yourself.

The place where you don’t have to perform.

The place where you don’t have to prove your value.

The place where you don’t have to earn your right to belong.

The place where you can simply be.

We probably won’t sit in that chair all the time.

Life doesn’t work that way.

We have responsibilities.

People need us.

Children need parents.

Partners need each other.

Friends need friends.

Clients need professionals.

Students need teachers.

People in pain sometimes need healers.

So we will move between chairs.

We will serve.

We will support.

We will guide.

We will listen.

We will give.

But we should never become so comfortable sitting in everybody else’s chair that we forget to return to our own.

So perhaps there is a question we should begin asking ourselves whenever we enter a relationship or have an important interaction:

“Which chair are they offering me?”

Because people reveal a great deal through the chair they offer.

Are they offering you a chair of respect?

A chair of trust?

A chair of friendship?

A chair of equality?

A chair of connection?

Or are they offering you a chair where you are only valuable when you are useful?

Are you welcome when you are helping, but unwanted when you have needs of your own?

Are you listened to?

Are you respected?

Are you allowed to speak?

Are you allowed to disagree?

Are you allowed to be yourself?

Because sometimes the chair tells us everything.

And sometimes there is no chair.

That’s important too.

Sometimes someone’s actions are telling you:

“There is no place for you here.”

They may never say those words.

Instead, they may show you through constant judgement.

Through rejection.

Through disrespect.

Through cruelty.

Through disconnection.

Through making you feel that you continually have to prove yourself.

Through making you feel like an outsider in a room where you are supposedly welcome.

And when there is no chair, perhaps we need to stop asking:

“How do I get them to give me one?”

Perhaps the better question is:

“Why am I still standing here?”

There are rooms we need to leave.

There are relationships we need to step away from.

There are environments where our continued presence is simply an ongoing rejection of ourselves.

And leaving does not always mean anger.

It does not have to mean revenge.

It does not have to mean hatred.

Sometimes leaving is simply recognition.

There is no chair here for me.

And that’s okay.

Not every room is our room.

Not every relationship is our relationship.

Not every person is capable of offering us the place we need.

And we don’t need to turn that into a battle.

We simply need to recognize it.

Our nervous system can sometimes tell us before our conscious mind does.

Notice what happens inside you when you are with certain people.

Do you relax?

Do you breathe?

Do you feel safe enough to be yourself?

Do you feel that you belong?

Or are you constantly tense?

Are you monitoring every word?

Are you trying to earn acceptance?

Are you shrinking yourself?

Are you performing?

Sometimes the body recognizes the chair before the mind does.

So perhaps, from today, ask yourself a simple question when you interact with someone:

“Which chair are they offering me?”

Then ask:

“Is this a chair I want to sit in?”

Because being offered a chair doesn’t mean you have to accept it.

And if they don’t offer you a chair at all, perhaps you already have your answer.

You don’t have to stand there forever.

You don’t have to beg for a place.

You don’t have to convince somebody that you deserve to sit.

You can leave.

And perhaps, somewhere else, there is a room where someone has already made space for you.

But most importantly, never forget this:

There is a chair that belongs to you.

You may spend much of your life sitting in other chairs.

You may serve.

You may teach.

You may heal.

You may guide.

You may support.

But every now and then, you must return to your own chair.

Sit down.

Breathe.

And remember who you are when you are not trying to be what somebody else needs you to be.

Because life is not only about finding a place to sit.

It is about learning to select carefully where you sit.

And sometimes the wisdom isn’t in choosing the right chair.

Sometimes the wisdom is knowing when to stand up and leave.

Ask yourself: Which chair are they offering me?

And if they are offering me no chair at all, why am I still there?

Select carefully where you sit.