DEAR HARRIETTE: I feel awkward when people ask me how much money I make. I recently got a new job at a large tech company as a vice president, and now many of my friends and family keep asking me how much I make. In my opinion, it’s always rude to ask how much money someone makes, so I always tell people that I’m not going to give them that information. The problem is that when I say that, people get visibly uncomfortable or make jokes about it. Some will say things like, “Oh, it must be a lot if you won’t tell us,” or “Must be nice!” Others push even harder and try to guess the number out loud.

DEAR HARRIETTE: Whenever I share a conflict, dilemma or even something I’m skilled at with a particular friend of mine, I’ve noticed that she responds by overexplaining it back to me – often as if I don’t fully understand my own situation or abilities. For example, if I talk through a personal issue, she’ll reframe it in basic terms, offer unsolicited lessons or explain my own feelings and motivations to me as though she’s just discovered them. If I mention a professional experience, she’ll break it down or correct me in ways that feel unnecessary and dismissive. What bothers me most is that this is someone who considers me a peer and a friend.

Hello, dear readers! Welcome to the monthly letters column. We hope the new year is treating you well, and that those who made resolutions are having a few victories. Forming new habits continues to be a popular topic, and we’ll explore new research in an upcoming column. And now, on to your mail.

DEAR HARRIETTE: Recently, my daughter asked me to tell her more about my early life. Over the years, I’ve made a point not to talk much about it, but now that she’s older and asking, I think it’s OK to share. When she asked me, I started off by explaining that I’ve never told her about my past because I didn’t have a happy childhood. The words were barely out of my mouth when my husband interrupted, insisting that happiness is subjective and that I should focus on the good life I have now. I hear what he’s saying, but he does this all the time. He accuses me of complaining or being ungrateful when I’m just sharing my truth. It’s instances like these that keep me from sharing about my childhood in the first place. I love my husband. I just wish he’d give me the space to vent or mourn or cry if I need to without his voice telling me to be strong. We’ve been married for decades. Is there any hope for change?