
RELATIONSHIPS · PSYCHOLOGY · EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT
I am a conflict avoidant. Not mildly, not situationally — constitutionally. My nervous system learned early that conflict meant blood, abandonment, and endings. No repair. No reconnection.
No growth. Just blood and death.
I was forged in a landscape of layered brutality—from the bloodied floor of my childhood home to streets defined by a national epidemic of violence. My reality was shaped by a spectrum of destruction that spared nothing: not men, women, or children, nor the very earth and animals beneath our feet. A country where national crisis is the only constant. Again I repeat – It was an upbringing marked by the systematic slaughter of every living thing—a total war waged through mascucilicide, femicide, filicide, and the cruelties of ecocide and zoosadism.
The lessons went bone-deep: when tension rises, disappear. And when you can’t disappear — fight like your life depends on it, because once it did.
This is the anxious-avoidant dance. Anxious attachment and avoidant attachment finding each other across a crowded room — as they always do — and colluding, without agreement, to suffocate every invitation toward secure connection. My ACE score sits above 6. Abandonment. Betrayal. Violence. Intimate partner violence. The full catalogue. What lives in my body is not a personality quirk. It is a survival architecture — built for a world that no longer exists, running on a child’s logic in an adult’s life.
So I avoid conflict. I run like a boy.
And when I do engage — in conflict and in apology — I am emotionally dysregulated. I say things that do not match my ideal self.
Things I regret before they finish leaving my mouth.
I have a lot to learn about how to fight right.
I say that without flinching. Because naming it clearly — without performance, without self-pity — is the first act of repair.
“Conflict is not the enemy of love. Avoided conflict is.”
The Pattern Has a Name
In heterosexual (cissgendered) relationships, research consistently identifies a pattern that clinical psychologists call demand-withdraw. Men are more likely to be the ones who avoid or withdraw from conflict. Modern studies suggest this difference is often driven by relational power and a desire to maintain the status quo — not an inherent gender trait. It is learnt. Which means it can be unlearnt.
ROLE – TYPICAL BEHAVIOUR – OUTCOME
The Withdrawer
Retreats, stonewalls, goes passive. Uses contemptuous words or virtuous verbal violence — then disappears. Lowers their own distress by exiting. Raises the other person’s.
A cycle: one partner pushes for resolution, the other retreats further. The distance grows.
The Demander
Initiates, presses for change, seeks emotional engagement. Stays in the room. Often labelled “too much.” Often exhausted.
Stays present but often pays the cost of it.
I know which role I have inhabited. The Withdrawer. Sometimes articulate enough to dress it up as patience or calm. But it is avoidance wearing better clothes.
I am trying to learn to fight right. Slowly. Very slowly. Sloth-and-snail pace.
I am trying to see conflict as a growth opportunity — a source of connection — a place of repair — a synonym for real love.
I am at Grade 000. Foundation phase. Early childhood development stage. Still reading and learning. Not great at execution yet. You cannot wipe out fifty years of bad conflict habits in a few months. It is an ultra-ultra marathon. I will pace myself. Forgive myself. I will at times crawl, shuffle, walk, and hardly run. But I will keep moving — one pole at a time.
Along the way, I came across three resources that have given me intellectual scaffolding — even when my emotional execution is still catching up. I share them here, not as a person who has arrived, but as a person who has started walking.
Three Resources. One Direction.
RESOURCE 01 — FIGHT RIGHT · THE GOTTMANS
Conflict is Connection in Disguise
Drawing on decades of research from their “Love Lab,” the Gottmans argue that successful couples do not avoid fighting — they simply fight right. Conflict is not a sign of a failing relationship. It is an essential opportunity for deeper intimacy. Sixty-nine percent of conflicts in relationships are “perpetual” — stemming from fundamental differences in personality or values that will never be fully solved. The goal is not resolution. It is understanding.
The book’s core insight: conflict is how partners reveal their true needs, fears, and dreams. Avoiding it leads to emotional distance and resentment. The fight itself is not the problem. The way we fight is.
THE 5 SECRETS OF FIGHTING RIGHT
1. START GENTLY
The first three minutes predict the outcome. Express feelings and needs without blame — softened start-ups prevent immediate defensiveness before the argument has begun.
2. MANAGE FLOODING
When your heart rate crosses 100 bpm, the brain’s rational centre shuts down. Take at least 20 minutes to self-soothe before continuing.
3. ACCEPT INFLUENCE
Stay open to your partner’s perspective. Be willing to compromise. Refusing to share power is one of the top predictors of relationship failure.
4. UNCOVER DREAMS
Gridlocked conflicts are usually about deeper values. A fight about dishes might be about respect. Find the dream within the conflict.
5. MASTER REPAIR
Repairs are any attempt to de-escalate — a joke, a touch, a genuine apology. The repair matters more than who started it.
THE 5:1 RATIO
For every one negative interaction during a fight, stable couples maintain at least five positive ones. Validation and humour are structural load-bearing walls.
RESOURCE 02 — THE 5 RS · DR. BETH POLIN
Beyond “I’m Sorry”
The 5 Rs framework moves beyond a reflexive apology and toward actual repair. It was developed to address the gap between the words we say and the trust we need to rebuild. A simple “I’m sorry” often soothes the speaker’s guilt more than the listener’s wound.
1. Regret
Show sincere, authentic remorse for the harm caused. This is about acknowledging the other person’s pain — not just your desire to end the discomfort of the moment.
2. Rationale
Explain why it happened without turning the reason into an excuse. Context helps the other person understand — but it does not transfer responsibility back to them.
3. Responsibility
Take full ownership. Say: “This is on me.” Research by Polin identifies this as the single most critical component of any apology. Not the most comfortable. The most critical.
4. Repentance
Promise to do better. Commit — genuinely — to not repeating the same mistake. Words without this commitment are performance, not apology.
5. Repair
Take immediate, tangible action to fix the damage or make amends. This is how the other person knows you are invested in the relationship, not just in your own relief.
RESOURCE 03 — LERNER’S 9 RULES · DR. HARRIET LERNER
The Intent Behind the Words
Where the 5 Rs focus on the structure of the apology, Lerner’s rules focus heavily on intent and emotional impact. An apology can be structurally correct and still be weaponised. Lerner dissects how we use apology to manage our own guilt rather than the other person’s hurt.
No “Buts”
A true apology stands on its own. The word “but” immediately negates everything before it, converting the apology into a justification. “I’m sorry, but you made me—” is not an apology. It is a counter-charge.
Focus on Your Actions
Keep the focus on what you did — not the other person’s reaction to it. “I’m sorry you feel that way” puts the problem back on the victim. It apologises for their sensitivity, not your behaviour.
Don’t Overdo It
Excessive apology — histrionics, endless remorse — hijacks the moment. It shifts attention from the other person’s hurt to your own guilt. The apology becomes about you.
Avoid the Blame Game
Do not get caught in who started it or who is more to blame. Focus solely on your part. Even if you are ten percent responsible, own your ten percent cleanly.
Include Reparation
Offer an act of restitution proportionate to the harm. Words are necessary but insufficient. Action confirms that you understand what was lost.
Corrective Action
Back your words with a genuine effort to change the behaviour that caused the pain. This is Lerner’s version of changed behaviour as the best apology.
Prevent Repeat Performances
Commit to ensuring — with real effort, not wishful thinking — that the mistake does not happen again. Commitment without a plan is just a more elaborate apology.
Don’t Use It to Silence
An apology must not be used as a weapon to shut down conversation. “I said I’m sorry — why are you still upset?” demands the other person’s gratitude rather than earning it.
Recognise When It Isn’t Enough
Some deep hurts require more than a single apology. They require long-term rebuilding of trust through sustained, consistent changed behaviour over time.
“I am not learning to be a better fighter. I am learning to be a braver one.”
The Personal Reckoning
Reading these three frameworks together, what strikes me most is how consistent they are across their differences. The Gottmans speak to the architecture of conflict. Polin speaks to the architecture of repair. Lerner speaks to the ethics of the apology — the places where we weaponise remorse or use sorry as a door to slam rather than a door to open.
All three say the same thing beneath different vocabularies: changed behaviour is the only apology that lasts.
For those of us who learnt conflict as violence — who file it under blood and ending — this reframe is not just intellectually useful. It is necessary for survival. Because the alternative is a life where you avoid every difficult conversation until the silences pile up and become a wall. A life where you mistake peace for health. Where you call your avoidance maturity.
I have made that mistake. Many times. With many people I loved.
I will at times crawl. Shuffle. Walk. Hardly run.
But I will keep moving — one pole at a time.
Good luck with your own conflict and apology journey.
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Sources: John & Julie Gottman, Fight Right: How Successful Couples Turn Conflict Into Connection (2023). Beth Polin, “The Components of a (Truly) Meaningful Apology,” Harvard Business Review. Harriet Lerner, Why Won’t You Apologize? Healing Big Betrayals and Everyday Hurts (2017). Andrew Christensen & Neil S. Jacobson, research on demand-withdraw patterns in couples conflict.
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