It happens easily with people we think we know. The friend who is always late. The colleague who complains. The person whose opinion we can usually predict. Familiarity becomes a shortcut, and a shortcut becomes the only road we take.
Then they try to tell us something different, using the same voice they have always had.
Listening does not ask us to forget what happened before. Trust may need time, and some boundaries still belong where we put them. But we can allow a person’s present words to reach us before fitting them into an old explanation.
There is a small kindness in not finishing someone’s sentence. In asking what happened next, instead of announcing what must have happened. In making room for an answer that surprises us.
We may still disagree when the story is over. At least we will be responding to the person speaking, not only the version we brought with us.