Honoring Conflict as an Opportunity for Transformation
At the breakfast table one morning I was having a loud conversation with significant other, listing his every fault, when I heard our tenants moving around downstairs. I was immediately embarrassed and ashamed, hoping they hadn’t heard. After all, we’re peacemakers, known for our wonderful skills in resolving conflict, helping people talk out their problems, etc. And I was yelling like a banshee.
A few days later, a therapist friend confessed that she’d thrown something at her significant other. She too felt embarrassed and ashamed. We each thought we were more “enlightened” than that.
Resolving conflict used to be easy. When I was a kid, I just beat my little brother into submission and gave my little sisters THE LOOK. They were quiet and we had no conflict, right?
In adulthood, I developed a pattern of avoiding conflict until I reached the point of exploding. Then I would revert to my old pattern of being the biggest or scariest one in the conflict as a way of dominating the conversation. It seemed that I had two channels: complete avoidance or explosion. In most cases, the explosions happened with the ones I was closest to: mostly husband(s) and children. Often, I scared myself, so I know I was effective in scaring the other.
Recognizing that the avoid-explode pattern wasn’t workable, I began to learn more about conflict resolution. I read self-help books. I took personal development courses. I got counseling. I studied communication skills. I learned a lot about relationships. I went to law school and learned the rules of civilized argument. And I got really good at helping others resolve their conflicts. But, when triggered, I still found myself acting in ways that I’d rather not publish to the whole world.
Along the way, I realized that my father was good at exploding and my mother was the queen of conflict avoidance. Lucky me! I’d learned from both role models and had developed my own blend. Okay, not so lucky.
One of the problems with avoiding conflict is that you wrap yourself into a pretzel. There isn’t much self expression. There’s little room for taking a stand for what you believe. After a while, you lose yourself and become a reactive machine, doing whatever you can to stay away from conflict. You forget what is important to you and who you are. Or so it appeared with my mother.
Of course, for my conflict-avoidant mother, my explosive father was the perfect partner. He gave her lots of evidence about why avoidance was her best course of action. But his way of addressing conflict didn’t work well for him either. In our family, we didn’t have much in the way of open communication. Even when he wasn’t exploding, the rest of us walked around on eggshells, not knowing when the next blast was coming.
I’ve learned that if I want to break the patterns of dealing with conflict that were programmed in my family of origin - in other words, most of my patterns, I need someone from outside the family system to help me learn and develop healthier and more effective ways. I took a number of classes: Building Sustainable Relationships with Barry & Janae Weinhold and Compassionate Communication with Jerry Donoghue. I built a support structure for healthy relationships. I moved on from old patterns and began working on conflict in a more structured way, much like what I offer to couples as they work through relationship issues in mediation or the collaborative divorce process. I've learned a lot. I haven't yelled at anyone in many months.
All that work on myself has also strengthened the foundation of being compassionate with the conflicts of others and has improved my skills in resolving divorce conflict. I know what it feels like to have my old programming take over and to say things I’d never say in my right mind. I’m more compassionate with myself when I revert to old patterns.
From exploring my reactions to conflict, I have learned a lot about myself and others. In conflict, I can try on new ideas and refine my own opinions through discussion. I can see how the patterns in my family have been passed down and I can work on breaking them. I have learned that my explosions have more to do with my hot-buttons than they have to do with my partner. When a conflict triggers my emotions, it gives me clues about where I have more work to do on myself to become that enlightened being that I want to be. Most of the time, I can catch myself avoiding conflict and talk about it before I get to that explosive stage.
Someday, I may actually reach that point of enlightenment where I welcome conflict as an opportunity for transformation.
