By Ellen Blaufarb

LATELY, I’VE BEEN PONDERING THE PHENOMENON OF WOMEN TALKING TOO MUCH. Now, I have been known to get lost in my storytelling, so I am particularly sensitive to people’s reactions to my diatribes. My pondering has taken me on a journey to understand those women who talk without sensitivity to the receiver of their conversation.

I have observed people avoiding these speakers. They try not to sit next to them at a meal, and move away from the area in which these women are holding their discourse. They back away when the person is speaking to them. These are very serious clues that they are rambling on too long.

I have attached all kinds of theories, as have friends who think these ramblers are wonderful, interesting, loving people. They just talk too much. These are women who have a lot to say and can’t seem to stop when they have an ear to bend.

Some of our theories are:

• These are women who need to be heard because they were discounted or not listened to at some time in their life;

• These are women who wanted to be writers but never got an opportunity to be read;

• These are women who are terribly anxious and use words as an antidote for their uncomfortable state;

• These are women who live alone and are lonely;

• They were teachers;

• These are women who can’t stand the quiet.

I know someone who is never quiet from the time she wakes up in the morning. I have heard her humming, singing to herself, talking to herself. She is happiest when she has a listener. I feel sad for these lovely gals, as they are pushing people away. My conclusion is that they can’t help themselves. They have practiced a style for so long, talking is what they do.

In one conversation — actually it was not a conversation — I was listening to a tale when I started to speak. The woman on the other end of the phone just kept on talking, so we were both talking at the same time. That is not having a conversation, though it is interesting; it is like singing a round, you only listen to your part.

In preparation for this column, I discussed the talking problem with several friends. We shared our strategies for dealing with these lovely, intelligent, energetic gals. One method was to have someone in your home call you on your landline or cell phone while you are using the other apparatus. You can then say, “I have another call coming through. Got to go!”

Another strategy when on the endless phone call is to ring your own doorbell and say, “There is someone at the door. I need to go.”

We are all too polite, and then too, these are friends we care deeply about and don’t want to insult or hurt their feelings. How would it be to say, “What you are talking about is boring me, can you please stop.” Too aggressive, you think. Or maybe you can say, “I really care about you, but you talk too much. I would like to have conversations with you, but you make that impossible.” Too insulting, you think. It is no wonder we resort to our strategies when we can’t listen anymore.

Recently, my daughter and I were visiting with her childhood best friend and her friend’s mother. Pat is a lovely, giving, talented, generous, intelligent woman who talks too much. She tends to tell “Phyllis” stories (stories that are about horrible tragedies). In the midst of one of her too-long, too-much-detailed stories, her daughter, Laura, interrupted and said, “Mom, can you just get to the point. We really don’t want to hear every detail.” Only daughters can get away with that behavior. My daughter and I all but applauded Laura’s courage. Only daughters can be forgiven for that kind of direct response.

I guess I am really getting around through the back door to the issue of conversation. Conversation has an imperative attached to it. It means sharing equal time. It means knowing your audience. It means picking up on the thread of ideas and adding to the other person’s interest. It means sharing (short) stories that have some point. It is not easy to be a good conversationalist.

Since I live alone, Marshmallow and I have very simple conversations. He barks occasionally and has this guttural sound when he is angry with me. I say important things like “Off,” “sit,” “come” and “stay.” I have less quiet time when with another person. I generally have to be “on” when I meet with friends over a meal or spend time in a car, so it is talk, talk, talk. I love it when I spend extended time with a friend for a few days and we fall into a pattern of quiet where we are still together, but we are reading a book or engaged in our separate pursuits. I am finding that performing a task together eliminates the need to talk about the same old thing.

And finally, I am realizing why games have become such a big part of my daily choices. When playing a game, I am in a social situation and enjoying the conviviality and yet not needing to get into any deep ponderings about life.

In a world that is used to noise, it is no wonder we can become uncomfortable when there is a lull in the conversation. When having dinner with friends, it is often wonderful to have a woman who talks too much present, because she always has something to say and then you can just sit back, let your eyes glaze over and think your own thoughts amid the pleasant drone of someone’s speech. I have convinced myself one more time that I can tolerate the incessant talk if it helps the other person to have someone who appears to be listening.

Ellen Blaufarb is a marriage family therapist and counselor at Liberty High School.