It takes courage to admit to having certain interests. Whether it’s a guilty pleasure or just conventionally unpopular, there are topics, activities and media that may be a huge part of our lives and yet we assume we should avoid bringing them up in most conversation settings. For someone to reveal a love of anime or British baking shows, then, is a testament to their willingness to be vulnerable and perhaps to your ability to make them feel comfortable enough to share it. So when I say most of my close friends play Dungeons and Dragons (D&D), it’s not because there’s a personality type or positive value I associate with the game (that’s for another article). It’s because, if they’ve talked to me about D&D or whatever their particular niche interest is, it’s indicative of a trait that truly creates good friendships and relationships: direct communication.

The psychologist Dr. John Gottman, who studied conversation snippets between married couples to predict the health and outcome of their relationships, noticed that communication centers around what he calls emotional appeals. Essentially, when I ask a friend, “What are you doing this weekend?” it’s likely that I’m indirectly asking the emotional appeal of “Can I hang out with you this weekend?” Or sometimes I’ll rant to a friend about a crazy week and get upset with them for trying to propose solutions to the issues, because this time I just needed someone to validate that I’m struggling or hurting.

There are two morals to Gottman’s work. You can guess the first: Couples that were more direct about their emotional appeals stayed together longer and with fewer conflicts.

I know all of the reasons I’ve hesitated to be direct with others. It’s mainly a list of thoughts I expect they will think if I suddenly ask to hang out or open up about a problem: “Does he not have other friends?” “He seriously can’t handle that?” “Who even cares about that?”

Yet since starting at Wash.U., I’ve been blessed to meet people who will face their own emotions. People who told me I seemed cool and they wanted to hang out with me or asked to catch up after months without seeing each other. Platonic friends who hug me goodbye before breaks or say “I love you” over the phone. People who don’t answer “How are you?” with “Fine” when they aren’t. People who let themselves talk excitedly about a terribly-written show they can’t help but watch.

In all of the times when people have chosen to be vulnerable with me, I’ve never found myself thinking any of the intrusive thoughts I assumed others would. And the friends who have opened up to me are the ones I’m now closest to and have held onto despite no longer being in the same classes or clubs.

That’s where the second moral of emotional appeals comes in. I attended a presentation over the summer from another psychologist, Dr. Assael Romanelli, who outlined his pet theory about communication, which I found more practical and easy to swallow: We attract people with the same level of directness as ourselves.

This makes intuitive sense. You don’t want to spend time around someone who overshares any more than someone who never shows that they care about anything, and over time you’ll settle in with people who share your communication preferences because that leads to less friction. Put Gottman’s couples aside, and you can rest assured that there’s no right or wrong level of directness; you’ll find friends who are comfortable with whatever approach you prefer.

But this theory also puts a decision into our hands. The way you choose to communicate will shape the pool of people you communicate with the most. For me, if I feel most supported and inspired by friends who speak directly, I’m only going to be able to keep these friends if I honor that and do the same for them.

Trying to be more direct this year has honestly lifted a massive weight from my shoulders. While conflicts and dicey situations come up regardless of how we communicate, I can assure you that the awkward moments that arise from being too open are much less of trainwrecks than the ones that arise from avoidance, repressing feelings or juggling multiple stories. And if anyone does find my occasionally long and/or negative answers to “How are you?” off-putting, I can’t say I mind when I’ve also found a new D&D group.