Support and advocacy for Acoustic Neuroma (Vestibular Schwannoma) and hearing loss (especially single sided deafness)


The Gift of Not Having to Converse

Hearing loss brings with it a risk of social isolation. When communication takes so much effort and energy, it makes sense that a person may choose less and less interaction. While I am aware of this risk, at this time in my life, it doesn’t seem to be a concern that applies to me.

I run a customer service and tourism small business. I manage many staff as well as interact with customers on a daily basis, much of which is in person. I also spend a significant amount of time interacting with people on the phone.

I am the mother of two wonderful kids. My children are still on the younger side, with the eldest currently in middle school. My children love to share their lives and stories with me. It is a joy and a gift to be able to be present in their lives. One of my children is an extrovert who craves interaction, and both kids still enjoy hanging out with mom.

My job and home life combined mean that in a typical day, I do a ton of listening. My life is full of conversations and noise. It’s almost all good things, but also very tiring. Hearing fatigue plays a significant role in my daily life.

So sometimes, I just really crave silence and quiet. Or I realize that I don’t have the energy for some conversations, especially in hard to hear environments. I find that having the option to not have to talk to be a true gift. I am so grateful that the people in my life recognize this need that I have, and they work to create opportunities where I can skip the talking.

My favorite example of this is during my morning prep and breakfast. Full disclosure, I have never been a morning person, and the forecast is not looking good for that to change in the future 😆. I find that when I am just getting going for the day, I frequently don’t have the energy and focus for conversation. Especially before I have had that all-important morning coffee. Typically, I am not wearing my hearing aid as I make and eat breakfast,  as I let my hair dry after showering before putting my aid on. This makes hearing fatigue much more intense. Also, much of my morning prep entails a lot of running around and making noise, which is not conducive to focusing on talking. My wonderful husband has learned how expensive conversation is for me during the morning, so now he waits to chat about his morning news articles until a better space in the day. I so appreciate his thoughtfulness. The gift of a quiet morning sets my day up to be so much better.

Another challenging conversation time for me is ordering at restaurants. Frequently, restaurants are extremely hard for hearing. They are full of background noise. Also, people who have unfamiliar voices and cadences of speech are much harder to understand. I also have the joy of having unusual dietary needs that typically take some interviewing of the wait staff. This all combines to make the restaurant ordering a very fatiguing process at best. However, my husband will frequently take on this task for me, knowing that it is expensive for me. For him, it is not a big deal to have this extra conversation. He is happy to take this one for me and leave me with more listening energy for more important things.

We also frequently have car rides as a family and minimize the chatting. Because I often need to do lots of listening at the destination, we take the travel time as an opportunity for quiet. If we do end up in discourse, I have to frequently double-check what was said by the back seat denizens, as I can struggle with word comprehension over the road noise. Often, my kids use this as an opportunity to listen to an audiobook or music on headphones. I am grateful for the moments of quiet in the car.

Besides these specific situations, I regularly just revel in the joy of spending time with my people without needing to talk. Whether this is walking together in beautiful woods, drinking tea on the patio, or silently reading together on the couch, my hearing loss has added a layer of appreciation to my experience of just being present with a loved one. I am naturally on the more chatty side, but having hearing loss has really grown my love and understanding of the lovely moments that can be immersed in silence.



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About Me

Emily was diagnosed with a brain tumor at age 27 and decided to make that experience worthwhile by paying it forward to other brain tumor warriors. She is passionate about supporting people and advocating for hearing assistance around motherhood and running a family business.