What Do You Really Need? And How to Be Happy, Stop Wrecking Your Relationships, and Causing General Chaos

 “Everything We Do Is an Attempt to Meet a Need.” Marshall Rosenberg

I’m going to share a story.  Like the previous blog, this isn’t the exact story that happened but it gets at the same issue. We can use it to learn about how to save our relationships and flourish.

When Charlie’s best friend ghosted him, he told himself it was probably nothing.

She’d get back to him. She was just busy.

Then a week passed. Two. His birthday came and went. Nothing.

So Charlie texted her, "I guess I’m not worth a call anymore.” She didn’t reply. And just like that, a twenty-year friendship was gone.

Charlie’s not cruel. He’s not unstable. He’s just like a lot of us—hurt, lonely, and unsure how to ask for what he really needs. Probably not even really sure of what he needs.

Years ago, I was working with some people who lived in France.  They said their lives changed… and their marriage…and their work (One of these folks worked with very prima donna haute couture models in a hectically paced environment; the other was a consultant and past CEO) when they learned about Nonviolent Communications (NVC).  They introduced me to the work of Marshall Rosenberg, the psychologist and peacemaker who founded NVC.

Rosenberg worked in prisons. War zones. Schools. Marriage therapy. And what he saw over and over again was this:

“Violence is the tragic expression of an unmet need.”

That goes for fists thrown in a bar, or icy silence in a kitchen. It goes for terrorists, toddlers, CEOs, and yes—Charlie.

The truth is, we all need something. We just don’t always know what it is. And when we don’t know, we flail. We accuse. We sulk. We ghost. We shame. We create distance where we long for closeness.

At the heart of every person—whether they’ve hurt you or are hurting inside—is a bundle of universal human needs.

Needs like:

• To belong

• To feel safe

• To be understood

• To contribute

• To matter

• To rest

• To be treated fairly

• To play

• To have meaning

  
  

What separates those who live well from those who hurt others (or hurt themselves) is not whether they have needs—it’s how they go about identifying them and trying to meet them.

So how do you figure out what you need? Rosenberg taught this simple practice:

1. Notice the feeling. Are you angry? Jealous? Exhausted? Hopeless?

2. Ask: “What need is this pointing to?”

   • Anger might mean you need fairness, respect, civility, or acknowledgment.

   • Jealousy might mean you need connection or celebration.

   • Exhaustion might mean you need rest or support.

3. Say it without blame.

   Not: “You never help me.”

   But: “I’m needing more support today. Could you help me with the dishes?”

   
   

This takes humility. Courage. And self awareness. And practice. But it's worth it. Because when we say, “I need…” without shame or blame, we invite others to see us instead of defend themselves.

But what if they still say no? Maybe they even make fun of our need. That’s the hard part, isn’t it? And it happens.

You’ve figured out your need. You’ve asked kindly. And they just… don’t or can’t show up.

Here’s what Rosenberg taught—and what real peacekeepers live by:

We are responsible for our needs. Others are not responsible for our needs.

It’s okay to feel the sting. But instead of collapsing into self-pity or exploding into anger, we can try this:

• Ask someone else for support.

• Look for another way to meet the need.

• Grieve it. Yes, grieve it. Some needs won’t be met in the moment. But grieving with tenderness keeps your heart open.

  
  

Back to Charlie. After the silence stretched into winter, he sat down with a cup of tea and a notebook. He didn’t rage-text his friend again. Instead, he wrote:

“I’m realizing I’ve been feeling hurt. I miss our connection. I was needing acknowledgment on my birthday, and I didn’t know how to say that without sounding needy. I care about you, and I hope we can talk sometime.”

He never sent it. He didn’t have to. He’d said it out loud to himself. With clarity and compassion.

And in that moment, his need was seen—by him. And that softened something.

The real secret to the Good Life is not having all your needs met. That’s not life. It’s knowing what your needs are. It's learning to speak your needs clearly with with grace. It's letting people say yes—or no—without it breaking your soul AND its being the kind of person who wants to know what others need, too.

Because sometimes the best healing isn’t in getting—but in understanding. I could rattle off many stories right now about how this has helped me be more compassionate toward myself, toward others, AND get my needs met in ways that don’t bring the house down.

Something to experiment with should you dare:

1. Write down a time you got upset. Ask yourself, “What was I needing that I didn’t know how to ask for?”

2. Pick one need today—just one—and make a clear, blame-free request. Try: “I’d love to have lunch with someone. Are you free this week?”

3. Practice receiving a “no” with peace. Say, “Thanks for letting me know,” and see if there’s another way to meet that need.

   
   

By this way, this is where I went with that last blog about the note on the door.  I’ve set up a time to talk to the person who left the note. I've already thought about my own needs, now I will be curious about theirs.

Here’s a Rosenberg quote that helps me - “Behind intimidating messages are simply people appealing to us to meet their needs.”

So the next time someone comes at you with anger or silence or a guilt trip, try this: Instead of getting pulled into the drama, ask yourself, "What might this person be needing?” And maybe, "What do I need right now?”

That quiet pause might just save the relationship. Or at the very least, it might save you.

How might paying attention to our own and to others’ needs and learning how to express them help us journey together to the Good Life?