“Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky, but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love, belonging, and joy—the experiences that make us most vulnerable.” ~ Brené Brown
If the title of this post upsets you, don’t worry, it upset me too. I have a strong aversion to conflict. it doesn’t mean i accustomed to to be involved, but it does mean that I’m very open to any suggestions that might give me permission to no Get involved.
So when I learned the phrase “keep your peace,” I found myself particularly drawn to it.
The concept of protecting peace is one of avoiding conflict. It means that some arguments are not worth arguing about, and some people are not worth arguing about at all.
In this case, protecting your peace means choosing to disengage for the sake of your sanity. You end the conversation, block their number, and stop contacting them.
believe me when i say there are Literally so much Under what circumstances is this the correct and appropriate route to take. I refuse to waste my time on people who are disobedient—especially if they are also committed to causing me pain. I have found that protecting my peace in these situations is a very effective tool that I use generously.
That said, I do sometimes wonder if the idea of protecting my peace has become an excuse to escape any Conflict—even conflict that I might need to address head-on. It’s so tempting to think of never having to tangle with anyone else. If someone hurts or disrespects me, I have to protect my safety!
I can walk away without acknowledging what they did. I can even feel good because I’m protecting my peaceafter all.
But when I do this, what lessons do I teach myself and others? What message does it send when I allow the thought of “protecting my peace” to turn me into a doormat for others to step on? When did protecting my safety become disrespectful to myself?
About three years ago, my husband and I separated and were on the verge of divorce. Our marriage had been through too much hardship as a couple, and the anger and resentment we had developed toward each other was destroying the stable love we once had. We weren’t sure if separation could save the marriage, but we decided to try.
During the six months we were separated, we both spent a lot of time in therapy to confront the negative ways we were acting out in our relationship. For me, it’s stuffing my feelings up and exploding instead of talking about them while they’re still manageable.
I stoked resentment, hostility, and even anger in the name of “keeping peace.” My refusal to express my needs and feelings poisoned me and my marriage from the inside out.
What kept me silent was a simple yet devastating truth: I believed that speaking up for my needs and standing up for myself when things were difficult made me a grumpy or difficult person. Maybe if I were real Honestly, if I came in with expectations – if I insisted on getting the treatment I deserve, I don’t think anyone would be willing to put up with me.
So I swallowed the searing tonic of hurt and disappointment and called it “the peace that protected me.” To do otherwise would mean provoking “conflict,” and if I create conflict, then why should my husband (or anyone, really) put up with me? By avoiding conflict, I could continue to pretend everything was fine while building a wall of resentment between me and the people I loved most in the world, one brick at a time.
A very hard lesson I learned in the beginning was that sometimes standing up for yourself is the path to peace. Sometimes holding people accountable for their actions is my way of teaching them and myself What is my value. While avoiding conflict might feel good in the short term, it could have disastrous consequences for my self-esteem in the long term.
I can directly attest that it already has.
Not only that; extreme conflict avoidance also affects my social well-being. Although conflict is never pleasant, conflict resolution It can be very enjoyable indeed. It has allowed me to reconnect with the people I love, heal my wounds, and grow together instead of apart. If I allow myself to become too rigid in my avoidance of conflict, I will only alienate others. This is a lesson that if I hadn’t started learning sooner, it would have cost my marriage.
I am slowly but surely learning how to express my difficult feelings. I finally found the courage to say the hard things, to speak up when I was hurt or upset, and to say what I needed clearly and kindly.
In doing so, I saw my relationships begin to flourish in ways they never had before. Most importantly, through this work and the work my husband did on our relationship, we saved our marriage.
It’s not always easy. In fact, sometimes speaking out can feel more uncomfortable in the short term than suppressing things like you did before. But this time, I finally emerged fully and truly.
I have stopped swallowing poison and started offering the healing balm of my own self-expression. Despite the temporary discomfort of letting conflict surface, the long-term joy of conflict resolution and mutual understanding always wins out.
I guess, like most things, protecting our peace without avoiding healthy conflict and dialogue is all about finding balance (a skill we seem to be losing as a society, from what I can tell). We must learn when to protect our peace, when to stand our ground, and how to tell the difference between the two. Currently, I ask myself a few questions when deciding which path to take.
This list of questions requires further thought and perhaps some re-adjustment, but here’s what I’ve got so far:
1) Is this person someone I want to be in a relationship with?
2) Do I trust this person to listen to me if I share how they make me feel?
3) Do I think there may be long-term damage to my self-esteem and self-image if I don’t address this issue?
4) Is it safe for me to participate in this conflict?
If the answer to these questions is yes, I will have the courage to engage in conflict. I know the conflict may not be resolved yet, but at least I’ve tried my best. If the answer to these questions is no, I’d better protect my peace and walk away.
Maybe I’ll schedule a phone call with a trusted friend or a session with my therapist to talk about how I’m feeling about the situation. At least this way I will get some validation and empathy which will help me keep my self-esteem intact. I’m not saying it will be easy, but over time I do think having a system in place will help me find a balanced way to handle conflict.
I should try it. So do you, dear reader.
About Dr. Amber Waddell
Amber Wardell is a PhD in psychology and an author who talks about women’s issues related to marriage, motherhood, and mental health. Sign up for her free newsletter to get exclusive content delivered to your inbox. Pre-order her book Beyond Self-Care Chips: Choosing Nourishing Self-Care in a Quick-Fix Culture, Published October 29, 2024. compassionate feminism exist psychology today Join a feminist conversation centered on openness, empathy, and equity. Follow Amber on Instagram, Threads, TikTok, and YouTube for more content!
