I Was In The Wrong

Sometimes the problem is me. A major part of my healing journey has been in looking at my own toxic traits.

An example of this is I grew up dealing with conflict by avoiding and fawning. I never realized how harmful it was to be on the receiving end of these behaviours until I started doing a deep dive into my life, looking at what roles I’ve played in the downfall of my past romantic relationships. The deeper I dove, the more I discovered it wasn’t only in romance that these behaviours were hurtful.

FAWNING:

• I’d appease, trying to smooth everything over, apologizing profusely—even though deep down I didn’t actually believe I was in the wrong. Because I was apologizing to make the conflict go away, not because I was genuinely sorry, my behaviours never changed. To some, this came across as manipulation, even though it wasn’t intentional on my part. For me, it was survival skill I developed during childhood.

•I was a people pleaser, never wanting to rock the boat. It felt better to say “yes”, silently building resentment, than to risk disappointing or angering another by speaking up or saying “No.”

AVOIDANCE:

• I’d stonewall, turning cold. I’d emotionally lock people out, withdrawing my affection and love as a form of punishment.

• I wouldn’t tell the other person that I felt hurt. I’d pout, respond less, or give short one-word/one-sentence answers. I’d say things like “I’m fine”, when I wasn’t.

• I’d expect people to read my mind and cater to these behaviours, thinking “If they really cared about me, then they should already know what’s wrong.”

PASSIVE-AGGRESSION:

• I’d become snarky and passive-aggressive, holding my pain like a bomb that I’d throw back in snide commentary or tuck away until a later date when the timing felt **just** right to get a jab in.

DEFLECTION:

• I kept a running mental tab on all the ways I felt harmed by others, but I’d never tell them. When someone else would share that they felt hurt by me, I’d deflect the blame, unleashing the arsenal:

“Yeah, well you did ___(this), ___ (this) ___, and ___(this)!!! 😡”

• This running tab, in the long term, would lead to me ending connections. To the other person, this ending often came out of left field as I never said anything prior, where to me, the sense of disrespect and not feeling safe within the connection had already been brewing inside me, sometimes for years. By the time I spoke up, there was no going back. I was done. It was game over.

• I’d gossip, telling everyone in my life how hurt I felt by the other person, except for the person themselves. The people I liked to vent to most were others who knew them. This created triangulation and social ruptures.

When I was most unwell, I’d physically attack myself. I didn’t know how to deal with relationship tensions and interpersonal conflicts as no one had ever taught me. Conflict itself felt life threatening—I wanted to avoid it at all costs.

Initially, I didn’t see myself as the problem in my relationships as I wasn’t the one who was outwardly screaming (unless I was drinking. There were times when the drugs and alcohol brought out the absolute worst in me).

When the same pattern repeats again and again in different faces and bodies, however—be it in romance or friendship—then I’ve learned that yes, I actually am playing a role in the continuation of that cycle. This was an ego-shattering revelation for me, as once I discovered I played a role, I felt deeply ashamed of how I’d been acting. At this point in time, I’d been a mental health advocate for over 10 years. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Coming to this realization was what gave me my power back.

PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY

I can’t change other people but once I became aware of my own harmful behaviours, I learned that I can change me. And then I also learned that I can choose what relationships I foster. These are things that are within my power.

The much harder part of healing has been in actually changing my behaviours. Changing my conflict style has involved learning to say “No” and to set boundaries (and then to actually hold those boundaries—Whoo! That’s tough!!!) I’ve learned that I need to speak up right away when I feel harmed by someone else’s behaviour—and I need to speak up directly to them, not to everyone else.

Over the last few years I’ve done a deep dive into:

“What is a healthy relationship?

What does it consist of?”

I’ve learned that when someone cares about us and experiences a secure attachment style, they:

• Criticize us to our face and speak kindly behind our back.

• They hear us out when we voice that we feel hurt by them, validating our experience before sharing their own.

• They make time to talk in person (whenever possible) within 24 hours of the rupture occurring.

• Apologies are followed by changed behaviour.

• Boundaries are respected.

• They genuinely like, value, and appreciate us a person (as we do them).

• There’s a mutual sense of respect and trust within the connection.

And no, it’s not always perfect but this is the foundation that both people keep returning to. The opposite of these, like the behaviours I outlined at the beginning of this blog, stem from an insecure attachment style, which can cause substantial harm over time.

CHANGING MY WAYS

Learning to speak up when I feel hurt, and expecting others to do the same, has now become a trusted filtration system within my connections. For friends who’ve continued to grow alongside me—also taking personal accountability so as to change their ways—it’s fortified our connections as we learn to navigate these new terrains together. In other connections, it broke them as they shared a similarly unhealthy and harmful conflict style. As I healed, I no longer felt safe to continue those relationships the way they were.

WHERE IT BEGAN

As we age, our primary caregivers teach us, through example, how to deal with conflict and live in community. We mirror and learn from the environment we grow up in. We can’t do life alone, especially as young children. If a baby is left to fend for itself, it will die.

When we don’t grow up in a secure and emotionally healthy environment, we may learn to get our needs met by screaming, lashing-out, slamming doors, or even by engaging in violence. On the other end of the spectrum, we may learn to fawn, avoid, or develop a “I can do everything alone” type attitude.

The aim, as children, is:

“Don’t get kicked out of the tribe.”

From there, we adapt to what will best help us fit in and survive.

MODERN DAY CONSEQUENCES

In the dating world, we often call these attachment and conflict styles: “games”, but, really, they’re not. Although there are people who are purposefully malicious, in my experience, a great deal of harm actually comes from unhealed wounds. These childhood wounds may appear as “hot and cold” behaviour, where someone gets close and then suddenly pulls back. This can unintentionally get someone hooked as it’s like falling in love with a slot machine—when that person is available and present, the emotional reward is substantial, but one never knows when they’ll get that reward again. This push-pull behaviour is often rooted in a disorganized attachment style, where closeness and fear became intertwined.

Other people might appear overly eager and clingy, while some seem completely aloof, often pushing a “good vibes only—no drama” type attitude. The former is an anxious attachment style, where the latter is an avoidant one.

Avoidance seems to be the most prevalent in our society these days, especially among men. It’s often seen in behaviours such as ghosting, which can be quite painful to be on the receiving end of. The more I’ve turned down dates and bids for friendships, the more I understand why avoidance feels easier (and why I fawned and people pleased to begin with). A lot of people don’t do well with disappointment or rejection. Rejection can stir up a lot of past wounds that may cause a person to outwardly explode, offloading all their unresolved pain onto whoever reminded them they had it. As much as it hurts to be on the receiving end of that, it’s a good indicator the rejection was needed. A verbal or physical explosion to hearing “no” early on is a telltale sign that person doesn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with conflicts and tensions, in a healthy way, that arise in all close human relationships. The harder part, for me, has been in learning that someone reacting with fawning or emotional avoidance is equally incapable of coping with conflict in healthy ways. All of these behaviours are symptoms that a person’s emotional skills are still developing.

In my 15 years of mental health advocacy, a major issue I’ve seen in our society is loneliness. Every relationship has conflict but most of us don’t have the skills to navigate that. We can’t seem to disagree about anything anymore without people either disappearing from our lives completely or feeling as if we’ve instigated a full on war by thinking differently. The mindset of “if you’re not with me, you’re against me” leaves no room for curiosity, nuance, differences, or growth. Our society has become highly polarized and conflict avoidant. Criticism itself feels like an attack to many (and I’m with them on that—that was me, and it’s still something I’m actively working on as I know how vital feedback and criticism are in helping me grow).

BREAKING THE CYCLE

The magic, from what I’ve learned, is in the repair process—can both people come back together after there’s been a rupture and make it work again? This requires humility on both parts, conversation, listening, forgiveness, and changed behaviour.

These, amongst many other things, have not been easy changes for me to learn and apply. They’re a constant practice. The more I’ve embarked on my healing journey, constantly looking at what roles I’ve played (or am playing), the more I seek out relationships with others who share similar values, self-awareness, and are actively doing the work to own their part and build healthier connections.

Many of us operate on autopilot. We don’t ever self-reflect or look at our role in things until a crisis happens and we’re forced to. It’s much easier to blame everyone else, or to turn around and blame ourselves, when in reality all relationships take two.

Fortunately, we’re not children anymore. We don’t have to mirror our parents or the environments we grew up in. We can change our behaviour. This is how we end the cycle. When we take personal responsibility for our part, we heal ourselves which in turn heals our relationships, our children, and our communities. This is why I believe those in the addiction recovery communities today will be amongst the future leaders of our planet.

A person who can say:

“This is how I mucked up and this is how I’m going to do better going forward” and then actually does it is far more safe and trustworthy than someone who pretends they have it all together.

Humility requires admitting to our faults and then actively choosing to change our ways. This how we change the world. This is how we, as individual adults, can empower ourselves and begin to change the course of our planet. It starts with: “I was in the wrong.”