I spent years believing my marriage conflicts were debates about fairness.
I thought we were trying to determine:
who was correct
whose perspective made more sense
whether something was “actually” a big deal
whether the emotional reaction matched the offense
And because I believed that, I responded the way many decent, well-intentioned people respond when they feel accused unfairly of something: I defended myself.
I did this a lot.
Not because I wanted to hurt anyone. Not because I didn’t care. Not because I was secretly abusive or manipulative.
But because I genuinely believed we were trying to establish the truth. I interpreted the moment as a disagreement about what had taken place, and each of us were presenting our case to one another. I thought she was trying to convince me to think and feel as she did. I was doing the same in return.
That’s the part I didn’t understand.
Most relationship conflicts are NOT truth-seeking exercises. They are safety-seeking exercises.
One person is trying to figure out:
Are you safe to come to when something is hurting?
Will you protect yourself, or will you protect us?
Will I be alone in this relationship every time our thoughts and feelings differ?
But the defensive partner—people like me—often experiences the conversation completely differently.
We hear:
You’re bad. You failed. You’re selfish. You’re the problem. You should be ashamed.
And once shame enters the chat, self-protection takes over. So instead of responding to the hurt itself, we respond to the accusation we THINK we heard.
That’s why these conversations go sideways so fast.
One person is saying: “Something hurt me.”
And the other person is answering: “But I’m not a bad person, nor was I trying to hurt you!”
Those are completely different conversations.
I didn’t understand this during my marriage. I thought I was fighting for fairness. But many times, I was accidentally communicating something much more painful:
“If your feelings conflict with my self-image or my beliefs, I will choose myself over you every time.”
That’s the thing people feel in relationships. Not the dishes. Not the forgotten errand. Not the tone. Not the text message. The loneliness of realizing:
I’m totally alone when he doesn’t agree that I should feel this way.
That realization changes people.
And once enough of those moments pile up together, trust starts dying quietly in the background long before anyone says the word “divorce” out loud.
This is the work now.
Not becoming perfect. Not agreeing with everything. Not abandoning yourself.
Just learning how to stay emotionally present long enough to care for another person before rushing to defend your own innocence.
That’s hard. But it’s learnable. We can practice it. We can build a new habit of responding in ways that serve our relationship and result in our partner experiencing love even when our thoughts and feelings collide.
And I think a lot of good people are starving to learn how.
Matthew Fray is the author of “This is How Your Marriage Ends: A Hopeful Approach to Saving Relationships”, a relationship coach, and formerly the blogger at Must Be This Tall To Ride.
I spend most of my time helping people navigate conflict, communication breakdowns, repair, trust, and long-term relationship pain.
That work currently lives in three places:
• My book, This Is How Your Marriage Ends (1,000+ Amazon reviews, 4.6 stars)
• 1-on-1 coaching (If you need more flexible time or day options than my scheduling calendar allows, simply reply to this email newsletter that you’d like to schedule a time to meet.)
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