Do you ever hear a word and suddenly it takes on a whole new meaning?
That happened to me recently.
Over the past few weeks, two of my daughters, in completely unrelated conversations, each used the same word to describe someone.
Transactional.
The first time, I nodded and moved on.
The second time, I found myself wondering why that particular word had caught my attention.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
At first, I thought I knew exactly what it meant.
A transaction is simply an exchange. You pay someone for a service. You buy a cup of coffee. Two businesses make a deal.
Simple enough.
But relationships are built on exchanges, too.
Friends take turns listening.
Partners support one another through different seasons of life.
Teachers are paid to teach.
Coaches are paid to coach.
Healthy relationships involve giving and receiving.
So what makes someone transactional rather than relational?
Transactional relationships are built around what someone provides.
Relational relationships are built around who someone is.
The difference is subtle, but profound.
A transactional relationship asks:
“What can I get from this?”
A relational relationship asks:
“What can we build together?”
That realization led me somewhere unexpected.
I found myself looking back at relationships that had ended.
Some faded naturally. Others ended abruptly.
It had me wonder: Had any of them been transactional?
Or was I simply trying to make sense of loss through the lens of a new word?
Have I ever mistaken someone’s interest for genuine connection?
Have I confused being pursued with being cherished?
Have I overlooked the difference between someone who values a relationship and someone who values what the relationship provides?
Those aren’t comfortable questions.
But they’re worthwhile ones.
Anyone who has ever held a powerful position in business may have experienced this when they are no longer in a seat of influence.
Or when someone pursues a romantic relationship and then moves on after the excitement of the chase is over.
Both experiences can leave someone feeling hurt, abandoned, and wondering:
Was I valued… or was I simply valuable?
Our feelings are real.
Our interpretations are hypotheses.
Sometimes those hypotheses are right.
Sometimes they’re incomplete.
Sometimes they’re simply wrong.
The stories we tell ourselves often feel like facts because they’re built from genuine emotions.
But emotions aren’t always evidence.
Maybe the goal isn’t to decide who was transactional.
Maybe it’s to become more discerning about the relationships we choose, the ones we nurture, and the way we show up for others.
One word didn’t give me answers.
It gave me better questions.
Now, when I find myself certain I know someone’s motives, I’m trying to interrupt that certainty with one simple question:
What else might be true?
Because curiosity is almost always a better place to begin than certainty.
And I’ve come to believe that’s where growth begins.
Has there ever been a word, idea, or conversation that completely changed the way you looked at something?
I’d love to hear about the moments that shifted your perspective.
Happy Wednesday!
Jackie