Introduction
What is Verbal Processing? | Internal vs External Processing | Processing Styles in Relationships | It’s Not Always Binary
5 Tips to Support Verbal Processors
(1) Feeling Versus Fixing | (2) Naming Your Needs | (3) Questions For Relationships | (4) Options for Solo Processing | (5) Your Processing Style is Morally Neutral
Conclusion
A Loving Reminder: You’re Allowed to be “Messy”
I close my laptop after work, barrel into the living room like a freight train, turn to my partner and say, “I’m about to have a yap attack.”
Look at any report card from my childhood, ask any partner I’ve ever dated, or find any of my former bosses on LinkedIn, and all of them will agree: I’m a yapper.
This could be, of course, the autism and ADHD. But anyone who’s spent time with me will tell you that when I’m trying to untangle a problem, I have to talk it out.
If I only try to think through something internally, I’ll give myself a headache. My problem-solving and making sense of the world often happens in dialogue, externalizing my thought process and smoothing it out in real time.
Verbal processing, generally speaking, describes our ability to understand language and express our ideas.
However, it’s become more popular in recent years to encounter this phrase in the context of processing styles, where verbal processing refers to a type of “external processing.”
Someone who is a verbal processor uses language (speaking, signing, writing, etc, usually in dialogue with others) to problem-solve, find clarity, and refine their thoughts.
Internal vs External Processing
You might think of processing styles through the metaphor of a child with a toy box.
Some children, when told to “go play,” will stop to consider which toy they want to play with. They might imagine what type of play sounds fun, or what toys they remember playing with the other day.
After giving it some thought, they’d go to the toy box, pick up their desired toy, and keep themselves entertained. They made the decision, at least in part, internally, before engaging with the external world.
Other children would immediately rush to the toy box and tip it over, spilling every single toy onto the ground, examining all the possibilities for inspiration.
They might start picking up different toys, maybe playing for a moment with some and switching to others until they realize through engaging with the external environment which toy they’d really like to play with.
Folks who have a more internal process will take time to think, and can arrive at a decision (or at least clarify their thoughts!) without needing to vocalize or share them externally.
Folks who are external processors, however, need to spill the metaphorical toy box. They need to actually “play” with their ideas, consider different possibilities, and collaborate in some way to arrive at a decision or get further clarity.
Verbal processing is a form of external processing which involves using language as your preferred medium for processing things externally, or outside of you.
I like to highlight here that while we often think of folks who speak out loud as verbal processors, that’s not always the case or the only way to process verbally. Folks may also sign or write, for example, as their way of processing through language.
It’s important to know, neither approach — internal or external — is wrong or better.
Internal processors, when given space and time to think, are able to work with complexity independently, which is a strength!
They can bring a grounded presence and listening ear when they engage with others. They can be amazing synthesizers, helping to take in lots of information, while bringing greater focus to a conversation that could easily go off the rails.
External processors, when they have an open expanse to play with ideas, can capture different possibilities in creative ways. When they harness this strength, they can be generative and inspiring collaborators, deepening and complicating a conversation.
Both processing styles have a shared goal of clarity, but a different map for arriving there.
Processing styles can make interpersonal relationships tricky, though.
If we aren’t aware of what we need and how our processing style might be different from others, it can definitely impact our relationships.
This is actually how most people I know (including me!) started to learn about processing styles, especially for those of us who are neurodivergent.
It’s when it’s impacting other people, or we’re not able to meet someone else’s needs, that we may start to wonder if we’re doing something “wrong.”
For internal processors, it’s often when others are personalizing their need for space and to “digest” things first as being exclusionary or pushing others away (“you never let me in!” “you always make decisions without me” “it seems like you’ve already made up your mind”).
For external processors, it’s when they receive feedback that they’ve overwhelmed someone, need to get to the point faster, or aren’t very attuned to the other person’s experience (“it’s like you’re talking at me” “I’m not sure what you want from me” “can’t you get to the point?”).
Sometimes, it can feel like we’re speaking different languages altogether.
An internal processor might think the point of the conversation is to convey conclusions and sort out any loose ends, but an external processor hasn’t “decided” anything — they’re trying to untangle all of the available information, and none of it is remotely close to feeling settled.
And you can imagine how these needs can feel competing or even triggering at times!
An external processor needs to untangle things in a more collaborative way, but doing so can easily overwhelm an internal processor, who needs space and time to unpack what they think, especially when new information is introduced.
That doesn’t mean that these are two opposite ends of the spectrum that can never meet!
An internal processor might need to make an effort to invite others into their thought process and share their feelings more explicitly. They might need to unpack how they arrived at a conclusion, as others with a more external style might not feel understood or connected in the absence of a shared process.
External processors might need to slow down and respect that not everyone is available for processing in this way. They may need to be more intentional about checking in, pausing, and inviting others to offer feedback, to ensure conversations don’t become unintentionally one-sided.
Processing styles aren’t so binary, either.
I’m a verbal processor, but my feelings are often delayed, because sometimes “intellectualizing” — taking something that I feel and turning it into a mental or cognitive exercise — allows me to bypass or distance myself from my underlying emotions.
So while I need to talk things through to ultimately make sense of them, I also need to drop into my body and get in touch with my emotions first. These can’t always happen on the same timeline.
It can sometimes feel like having one foot on the gas and one foot on the brake, because I can feel an urgent desire to problem-solve through externalizing, but I still need to slow down and turn inward to get in touch with my emotions first.
Thanks to somatic coaching, I’ve learned how to slow down and stay in contact with my body, how to name and express my emotions without bypassing them, and how to suss out when it’s an appropriate time to be in my head versus needing to stay with my heart.
Sometimes, I actually need to resist the urge to immediately process with my words, and spend time with my feelings.
Similarly, I’ve dated internal processors who would take time to sort things out in their minds, but the moment we started talking, that connection and conversation would surface emotions they hadn’t realized were there, which complicated what they thought was already settled.
They needed to practice knowing when to take space, versus when to come together and approach a conversation that might be uncomfortable, knowing that conflict can be generative.
In other words, your “processing style” does not mean that you’re automatically feeling your feelings while you process.
It describes a pattern in your problem-solving and cognition, but how and when you access your emotions can and likely will look different or even be seemingly at odds with one another.
In fact, most people find that feeling and problem-solving (“fixing”) can’t happen at the same time, but they confuse these as being one in the same.
This can make your processing style much less binary than “I need to be alone first” versus “I need to yap about it.” You might need both or lean on them in different contexts, and need to experiment to figure out what’s actually supportive for you (more on that below).
While beyond the scope of this blog post, you may also find that something like an attachment style — like anxious or avoidant (though attachment theory is more complex than this binary!) — can intersect with your processing in different ways, too.
5 Tips For Supporting Your Processing Style And Relationships
I’ve compiled my five best tips for folks who process verbally — especially those who may be looking for ways to support themselves that don’t involve monologuing at the nearest bystander (said with love, because I’ve been on both sides of this!).
That said, I think this advice can be helpful to folks generally in figuring out how they can accommodate their own style, too.
1. Ask yourself: Do I need to feel this first?
As I shared above, while we may think that we’re dealing with our emotions when we’re processing verbally, that doesn’t always mean we are!
In fact, sometimes we’re avoiding our feelings altogether by distancing ourselves from them when we make them a hypothetical scenario to analyze.
Sometimes cognition can be like a fidget spinner, giving us something to ponder in the abstract, instead of bringing us back into our bodies and the sensations there, which is where emotions really live.
You probably need to feel something first if your desire to process is paired with intense urgency. If you need to process right now, you’ve probably skipped the feeling step!
If there’s urgency there, consider creating some intentional space to check in with your body, scanning for discomfort and focusing on the sensations first.
You might also try naming and describing the emotions that are present — not to change them or contemplate them, but to identify and bring them closer to the surface. Weaving this into your verbal processing can be extremely helpful in ensuring that you aren’t spinning your wheels.
2. Practice discernment: Is the person you’re talking to ready and able to hold this?
We may think that asking someone, “Can you talk?” is adequate permission to process, but in my experience, it isn’t quite enough.
“Can we talk?” means something different to everyone, and if you want to get technical about it, the “we” here implies that the conversation would be collaborative.
But sometimes, verbal processing is not really collaborative at all, depending on what you need. That’s why, if you’re looking to verbally process with someone, it’s important to be honest about what kind of participation you’re asking for.
Naming what to expect (what you’d like to talk about) and what you need (what that person can offer you) can help ensure that someone doesn’t sign up for a conversation that they quickly realize they weren’t prepared for, leaving both people involved feeling resentful or hurt.
This requires a level of self-honesty that can be difficult when we’re upset or overwhelmed, but I promise, it gets easier with practice.
If we need to monologue about a situation at work, and have someone listen and not offer feedback, it’s important to be clear about that.
If we need to talk about something in our past that’s heavy, and then we expect to hear advice at the end, it’s helpful to communicate that upfront.
If we need to vent about a partner and just want our emotions validated, saying so can go a long way.
This is also where paying attention to urgency, as I mentioned above, is very important.
If we’re feeling urgency around our need to process, it’s likely not the best idea to pick up the phone and call someone with the expectation that they can and will hold space for us.
If we’re not in a position to accept someone’s “no,” we need to slow down until we can really hear it.
3. Know that your processing style may not change, but your awareness and flexibility can.
For some of us, external processing can turn into a verbal tornado, making it difficult to notice when other people are uncomfortable, or to leave enough space for someone else to get a word in (this is also a trait that neurodivergent folks are shamed for a lot in popular culture).
And while it’s not our responsibility to set someone else’s boundaries or magically intuit when someone is overextending themselves, we do need to be intentional about how we show up in our relationships.
This means doing what we can to stay present with someone, having the courage to name what we’re seeing in our dynamics (or what we’re afraid of), taking in feedback when it’s offered to us, and doing our best to be attuned to the experiences other people may be having.
This can be really, really tricky in practice though, especially if shame is still very present for us.
I thought that being AuDHD (autistic and ADHD) meant that I inherently lacked the ability to attune to other people, so my only options must be to either heavily mask or accept that I’ll probably overdo it.
That meant any feedback I got about my processing style inevitably brought up more shame (“I am bad”) because the feedback felt like it was about me as a person, rather than something about my communication and our compatibility.
However, I’ve realized that I have more “range” in my relationships than I thought, and it comes down to having a set of questions that I come back to when I’m navigating communication challenges:
How is shame influencing how I show up in my relationships?
Am I avoiding a conversation that needs to be had? Am I stifling my authentic expression? Is there an “elephant in the room,” but I’m too scared to name it? What might that say about unmet needs or fears that I’m having in this moment?
Can I show up in this relationship in a more embodied way?
When I’m with this person, can I take deep breaths? Can I feel my feet on the ground? Can I notice what’s happening in my environment?
In other words, am I safe enough to be in my body?
If this isn’t possible, this is my starting place for what I might need to practice or get support around. It might also be an indication that I just don’t feel safe with this particular person, which is important information.
Have I talked about communication styles and boundaries with this person before? (Should we talk about that again?)
Not just informing them of my communication style, like it’s this shameful confession I need to make, but inviting them to share about theirs and learn more about each other.
Naming what I’m observing in our dynamic (or what I’m afraid of having happen), how I tend to process things and why it helps me, learning about their style and how to accommodate it, and giving them explicit permission to interject or set boundaries can all take some of the pressure off.
And I cannot stress enough: Many of us have heard the word “boundaries” so many times that it’s lost its meaning or we gloss over it when we see it!
I encourage folks to read more about boundaries (and how they’re different from requests!), as it can be easy to blame someone’s processing style rather than recognize where boundaries haven’t been made explicit or aren’t being respected.
Are there social accommodations we can try?
I’ve had friends request the use of a timer when one of us processes, with the idea being that when it goes off, we’ll check in again around how we’re feeling. While it works for some folks, I’ve found this can create a sense of time scarcity for me, which takes me out of the moment too much.
Instead, I like to generally check in and ask about how much capacity someone has, whether that’s a time estimate or just a vibe (“my battery is pretty low” or “I’ve got energy for this!”), knowing that this can change at any time.
I also really like the option of hand signals to indicate when someone is approaching their capacity for processing around something (my favorite is using a hand heart, which is a cute way of saying, “I love you and I’m still listening, AND when you finish this thought, my heart needs your attention”).
Can I practice creating a “container” around my processing?
Sometimes I will be a runaway train, despite my best intentions.
But I can still do my best to check in before processing, ask how the person is feeling after and what they might need, and express gratitude in an affirming and positive way (instead of saying “sorry I yapped at you so much,” saying something like, “thank you so much for listening, I feel really cared for and I don’t take it for granted”).
Is it possible that we’re just not compatible at this time?
At this stage of my life, I struggle a lot to be in close relationships with people who avoid conflict and aren’t used to talking about the relationship dynamic openly and often.
Without clear communication, it’s hard to maintain balance between someone who struggles to take up space and someone who struggles to modulate the space that they take without prompting. (And I have been both in different relationships, so I really empathize here!)
It doesn’t mean that either of us are bad or wrong. It just means that their struggle to offer feedback directly, and my need for direct feedback, often creates a dynamic that doesn’t feel supportive for either of us.
4. Experiment with solo alternatives for processing.
To be clear, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with needing to process in conversation with others.
And, I know it can feel disempowering when you don’t have trusted people for this, or the folks you rely aren’t available or can’t meet the specific need you have (for example, your friend that, bless them, doesn’t give great advice around career stuff, or a parent that struggles to validate your emotions and skips straight to “here’s how I’d fix that”).
While a therapist or coach can be a great touch point for verbal processors, it’s also true that many of us can’t afford therapy or coaching, or have experienced harm in these contexts.
To that end, I’m sharing my personal go-to processing methods that help me when I need or want to process alone:
Writing or Recording a Letter
This might be a letter to someone I’m in conflict with, but it also might be a letter to a part of myself that’s showing up in this moment (like my inner critic) or a version of myself (like my inner child).
‘Campfire’ Journaling
This is a type of processing I came up with that’s inspired by parts work! It allows me to connect with my inner world, while also engaging the conversational element of external processing that helps me move through things.
As I share in the video above, this is an exercise where I draw a campfire with a one word intention over it, like “care” or “honesty.” I then invite the different emotions and parts within myself to gather around this fire.
I write from the perspective of each part, asking what they are feeling or struggling with, and then after each part has shared, I go back and write a response to it.
Verbal Processing + GoblinTools
GoblinTools is a suite of AI tools that are designed for neurodivergent folks. One of those tools, Consultant, allows you to share something you need advice around, and it will respond with a pros and cons list, as well as a recommendation.
The Consultant tool has a little microphone icon, so you can actually verbalize your situation out loud if you’d prefer, and because it’s AI, it won’t judge you for talking in circles or not being succinct.
It’s important to remember that the point of using this tool is not to let AI dictate your decisions, but rather, let AI respond to your situation, and then use your gut, your discernment, and your reaction to that advice to figure out for yourself what feels true and right.
For those of us who use tarot cards, it’s much the same idea, of accessing the insight we already had rather than looking to an external authority.
Part of what makes external processing so helpful generally isn’t that people always give us the right answer, but that reacting to someone else or our environment allows us to find the answer that was already within us.
(To be extra clear, because I care about this a lot: I’m not supportive of uncritical use of AI, but really appreciate that GoblinTools is free, committed to using more ethical models where possible, and has a focus on accessibility and supporting executive function with specific tools.)
Role-play as a YouTuber, Coach, or Advice Columnist
In my experience, folks who verbally process to find clarity can give really great advice to others, because they’re creative problem-solvers that can imagine many possible options and paths, and often have an affinity for language.
You might consider role-playing as a way of accessing the advice you would offer others.
You might turn on your webcam and pretend to be a Youtuber who’s addressing a question from a viewer. You could record a voice memo, and pretend that you’re in “coach mode,” giving a pep talk to a friend. Or, you might turn your journal into an advice column, and write from the perspective of someone who’s giving advice on your specific struggle.
Process Through Art
Verbal processing might be focused on language, but external processing can be so much more! If you already engage in one type of external processing, chances are, you’ll benefit from exploring other kinds, too.
External processing can be any medium that allows you to externalize something that you’re wrestling with internally.
The book “Feel Something, Make Something” by Caitlin Metz is my favorite resource for finding more tangible ways to untangle emotions and find clarity without bypassing your feelings.
The book includes how-tos on zine-making, body- and mind-mapping, self-portraiture, and even writing a manifesto!
Literally Just… Talk To You
I know for many folks it’s not the same, because the connection with another person can be a powerful support while we process. But that said, you might be surprised when you try just… talking to yourself.
If it feels awkward at first, that’s understandable! My coach shared that sometimes she’ll go for a walk around the block, and pretend to be on the phone, when really she’s just talking herself through a problem she’s trying to solve.
I do a similar thing with voice memos, or sometimes I’ll write in a journal and quietly read it aloud as I’m writing.
(In fact, every blog post I write is just me quietly talking as I type — this is one way in which our processing styles can be a strength!)
5. Remember: Your processing style is morally neutral
At different points in my life, I was afraid to acknowledge the ways that my verbal processing was connected to the struggles I was having in my relationships.
Deep down, I believed that if I couldn’t change this thing about myself, examining its impact on others would only make me feel more helpless and ashamed.
So unconsciously, I avoided looking more closely at this, assuming there was nothing I could really do.
When I received any feedback about it from friends, I would shut down, despair, spiral, and even self-isolate — and it cost me a few relationships that I really cherished.
I wish I’d known back then that it wasn’t necessarily the processing style itself that was an issue!
Much of the tension I’d experienced previously really stemmed from the urgency behind my processing (because I hadn’t felt the feelings yet, and I didn’t know how!).
This was made even more intense by the underlying hypervigilance I felt around taking up “too much” space. This made me ping pong between totally restraining and stifling myself, but then emotionally unloading when I couldn’t maintain the mask… which only led to more shame.
This left me disconnected from my emotions and body, retreating into my head, struggling to recognize the capacity of others, and that meant that I wasn’t just monologuing — I wasn’t present.
It took years before I realized what my friends were reacting to wasn’t necessarily the verbal processing itself, but the lack of negotiation and connected presence.
It wasn’t just “you’re talking way too much.” It was, “I feel like you don’t see me, or like you’re not really here with me.”
And that really helped me shift from shame to what I wanted all along: Connection. This feedback came from friends who wanted to connect with me, not abandon me.
Many of my relationships have gotten stronger simply by releasing shame, focusing on presence, and letting less compatible connections have the breathing room they need to be renegotiated or ended.
One last (loving) reminder: You’re allowed to be ‘messy.’
It’s true that my relationships feel a lot better just by focusing on what’s truly within my control.
Checking in about my relationships more intentionally, learning about boundaries, accessing my emotions, learning ways to process independently, and making myself more vulnerable when I’m feeling insecure has made a big difference.
That doesn’t mean things are always perfect, though.
There’s no end point at which you are perfectly embodied, healed, and present, and therefore will never have conflict or discomfort in your relationships ever again.
(Tattoo this on my forehead, please, because I still find myself believing that I can heal my way into perfect relationships. Oops.)
Some days, I still close my laptop after work, barrel into the living room like a freight train, turn to my very internal partner and say, “I’m about to have a yap attack.”
Sometimes I don’t even say that!
Sometimes I start blurting things out the second I walk into the room, and have to make an effort to slow myself down to make sure I didn’t just dive roll past my partner’s emotional state and needs, like I’m some kind of hyperverbal Sonic the Hedgehog.
Being “good” at relationships isn’t about becoming so skilled, thoughtful, and attuned that we never show up in ways that are messy, imperfect, and, well, human. It doesn’t mean we never hurt anyone or end up hurt ourselves!
Instead, it’s those skills and the thoughtfulness accompanying them that allow us to build a foundation of trust, so that inevitably, when we show up in our mess and someone gets hurt, we are able to work through it in ways that reflect our values.
And I don’t say “mess” in a derogatory way here, either! Because every human being on this planet has mess.
If you’re a verbal processor, I want you to know that the way you relate and make sense of the world is not any more or less “messy” than anyone else.
Many of the people in my life now enjoy the chaotic rollercoaster of me trying to process my way through something, because they often relate and find meaning in it with me.
Being a verbal processor is what makes me a really interesting writer, a great advice-giver and brainstorm partner, and an empathetic coach to folks who, like me, need someone to help them untangle the mental and emotional knots that come with being human.
Which is all to say, you’re doing just fine, I promise.
And if you want a shortcut — because I know this article was, haha, a bit verbose — the best one I know is to turn toward shame wherever you find it, and spend enough time with it so that you can offer it love.
Your “yapping” is lovable. Your inner world is beautiful and worth sharing. And your desire to connect with others and make meaning together is a precious, precious thing.
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