I’m not someone who enjoys conflictual situations. I never could be. I grew up in a house where calm days—days without yelling, without raised voices—could be counted on the fingers of one hand. As a child, I didn’t know how to deal with all that noise, so I found refuge in my books, scribbling messages to imaginary friends on the backs of my notebooks. It was that child’s way of coping, of talking to someone, of handling a hostile atmosphere.
Even now, I detest yelling, aggressive outbursts, raised voices, and threatening looks.
Little by little, I learned that avoiding conflict made it feel less damaging. So, I entered relationships where I wasn’t truly happy—but I didn’t say much. I kept quiet.
I saw myself like a Russian nesting doll: all my different versions, at different ages, coexisting not one inside the other, but jumbled together. I’d regress to the smallest one, wanting to disappear—but I didn’t. One mental exercise I often did was to view myself from the outside, to see the smallest version of me, ready to run away, reliving moments from childhood. That act of seeing myself from the outside has helped me, over time, make what seemed like tough decisions. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t happen overnight—but I succeeded, many times.
I know how heart-wrenching it can be to break out of the patterns you were raised with.
Maybe that’s why many people choose to stay stuck. I understand them—I have compassion, patience.
On the other hand, I’ve always been infuriated by sayings like “Better the devil you know than the one you don’t” or “It’s bad with the bad, but worse without the bad.”
These phrases imply that whatever you do, you’re just jumping from the frying pan into the fire. That there’s no escape. That patterns can’t be changed. So why even try?
But that’s not true!
Better alone—or better with good—than stuck in those proverbial “bads.”
Fatalism feels suffocating, self-limiting, toxic for any human being.
Which brings us to another option: asserting ourselves.
When we want to express our perspective, it’s important to do it while also considering the other person. Too often we confuse assertiveness with aggression—we speak without thinking. Ironically, we even say “I’m just thinking out loud.” And that’s how monsters sometimes slip out of our mouths—words that irreparably damage relationships. We say things we don’t really mean. Even if others forgive us, it’s hard for them to forget our harsh words, tone, or expression.
There are, of course, many tools and books to help us understand how we react in challenging situations.
One such tool is the Thomas-Kilmann Conflict Mode Instrument, which helps identify how we behave during conflicts.
It defines five conflict management styles, placed on two axes: assertiveness and cooperativeness.
- High assertiveness, low cooperativeness – Competitive Style
Competition is assertive and uncooperative. It’s a power-driven mode of interaction where one seeks to satisfy their own concerns at the other’s expense, using any means necessary. - High assertiveness, high cooperativeness – Collaborative Style
Collaboration is both assertive and cooperative. The goal is to work together to find a solution that fully satisfies both parties. This might involve exploring disagreements, sharing perspectives, or finding creative solutions to interpersonal challenges. - Moderate assertiveness and cooperativeness – Compromising Style
Compromise is a middle-ground approach. The aim is to find a quick, mutually acceptable solution that partially satisfies both sides. - Low assertiveness, low cooperativeness – Avoidant Style
Avoidance means not pursuing your own concerns or the other’s. It might take the form of postponing, withdrawing, or diplomatically skirting an issue. In the long run, it’s not necessarily a winning strategy. - Low assertiveness, high cooperativeness – Accommodating Style
Accommodation is cooperative but not assertive—it’s the opposite of competition. A person with this dominant style prioritizes others’ concerns over their own. There’s often self-sacrifice involved.
It could mean giving in to another’s wishes, even when you’d rather not, or yielding your viewpoint.
We certainly behave differently in different contexts and stages of life. Maybe we avoid more at work, are more competitive elsewhere, make compromises with family, accommodate parents, and so on. But we all have dominant tendencies. It’s helpful to become aware of them and work on ourselves when those patterns don’t serve us well.
Even if we don’t read about conflict communication styles, even if we don’t take assessments or talk to a coach, mentor, manager, or therapist, it’s worth remembering one phrase many of us probably heard from parents or grandparents:
“Always leave room for a proper goodbye wherever you go.”
I know a few people who seem to go out of their way to stir up conflict—to show how well-stocked they are with seeds of scandal, throwing vitriol as they go.
It’s sad that we often feel the need to scorch everything around us when we leave a person or place behind.
A therapist might say that such people are deeply wounded and vulnerable, that we should show compassion.
They’d probably be right.
But don’t we all carry wounds of our own—wounds we’re trying to tend to as best we can?
Walking through life with open wounds on display doesn’t help anyone—not ourselves, not those around us.
That’s why I’d start with knowing ourselves: analyzing, learning to manage our emotions, our feelings, our grudges—with care, attention, respect, and appreciation for both ourselves and others.
Confrontation is not our enemy—on the contrary, it can spark ideas and solutions, if ego is kept in check.
Good luck!
via: Forbes