That first argument is always the worst. Maybe not qualitatively, but it’s the worst in that it shatters the illusion that “Our relationship is different.” Everyone has that illusion. “Yes, people argue, but not us. We’re going to be fine. We’re going to be in line with each other, we’re never going to disagree, and if for some odd reason one of us is ever inclined to be on a different page as the other, well, one of us will just give in to the other gracefully. It’ll be easy, because we love each other.”
And then reality hits. We’re just like everyone else.
It may be something small, something mundane. It doesn’t really matter what it is. What does matter is the idea of it. “We’re now people who can argue. We’re not perfect anymore. What else might not be perfect?” Depending on your personality, it may not be hard to turn a mildly snippy conversation about replacing the toilet paper roll into a general commentary on the vitality of your relationship.
The truth is that disagreements are a natural part of any relationship. Research has shown that even in the most successful couples, the ones who communicate respectfully and caringly, and really trust each other, up to 69 percent of the disagreements they have won’t be resolved. The difference between them and the less successful couples is all in how they approach those disagreements. Differences of opinion are facts of life, they’re always going to be there.
Granted, disagreements are a fact of life, but who says they have to hurt as much as we assume they will? There are tools and concepts we can use to reduce both the intensity of the disagreements and the natural feeling of hurt that comes along with it. Let’s take these ideas apart. In order to do that, we need to understand were disagreements and the resulting conflict come from.
Where do disagreements come from?
Let’s consider an average young couple. He’s 23, she’s 20. They’re currently in kollel, though he’s got some ideas of going into business on the backburner. They’ve been in that “cute young couple” space since they got engaged. They’ve been married for maybe five months. Point number one for both of them to acknowledge is that before they even met each other, they’ve each got more than two decades of life experience that has nothing to do with committed relationships in general, and each other specifically. Our opinions, values, wants and needs, and likes and dislikes are all direct products of our lived experiences. Two people enter a relationship with such a wealth of differences. It makes complete sense that the way they’d approach any given situation would be at least somewhat different. It’s a given that there will be at least some situations in which they’d want completely opposite things.
These opposite expectations come from assumptions we have about what would make us feel safe. For example, let’s say the matter under discussion is which school to send our kids to, or where to go for Shabbos, or even what to have for dinner. My opinion in any of these, what I want to happen, is based on what I think will make me feel good, or emotionally safer, in the situation. Not getting what I want means I don’t have what I’ve decided I need in order to be safe. As humans, we have an instinctive need to do that which makes us feel better, safer, or less threatened in any given situation. When there’s something stopping me from being able to do that, we perceive that as a threat, and react accordingly.
Unfortunately, this instinct doesn’t stop just because two people are married. That’s where conflict comes from.
Yes, we care about each other. Yes, we have a deep emotional bond. Yes, there’s shared life experience, and what we’re trying to build together. When there’s even a small part of one of us that says that this issue is a matter of safety and self-preservation, though, all that doesn’t make much of a difference. If I don’t get what I want, I feel hurt and threatened. Even if I do get what I want, if it’s done in a way that makes me feel bad for wanting it, I still feel hurt.
So what do we do about it? How can we balance out the opposing assumptions, experiences and viewpoints leading to expectations with the need to build mutual respect and support for each other? There are a number of possibilities.
Step one is to acknowledge whatever expectations you have in a given situation, along with any assumptions you’re making that may lead to the expectation. “If we go to your parents, I’m going to be miserable” is an expectation formed by the assumption that “this time will be no different than the last three times we went.” The expectation, along with what it’s based on, has now been communicated. Now we can start to actually work together (key word, there) to figure out how to navigate it as a couple.
This is not a one-sided deal. Any time we share something of ourselves that hasn’t been shared before, we’re exercising vulnerability and trust that it will be taken the right way. The only way I’m willing to take a chance and share something about myself is if I trust that it won’t be taken advantage of, and that it will be respected, regardless of whether or not you agree with it. Whoever I’m sharing with has to be aware of that, and take the role of supportive listener seriously. It’s not a switch you can just turn on, it has to be consciously developed from the beginning.
The listener has to learn to be receptive. This means not just hearing the words, but being able to get into a state of curiosity about what the other person is saying, and really trying to understand it properly. If I’m listening, I’ll probably have some assumptions about what you mean, why you’re saying it, and what that means about me (we’ll get back to this one), the situation, and our relationship in general. I need to notice those and walk them back. I need to understand that the one thing that’s probably not true is exactly what I’m thinking about what you mean. It’s my assumption; it’s a product of my experience. It’s not coming from you. There may be similarities, but the odds of me getting it exactly right are pretty low. That’s something I need to allow myself to acknowledge.
We mentioned before the assumption that whatever the other person is thinking or saying has something to do with me. That’s a particularly dangerous assumption to make. Yes, we’re having a difference of opinion, but that doesn’t mean your opinion or reaction to my opinion is anything more than just that – your opinion. If I’m able, I can remind myself of that. If I need to, I can look at whatever evidence I have that it might be more than just an opinion. Odds are, though, it’s not personal. Just as any other opinion, it’s based on experience, assumptions, and expectations. It’s not based on me.
It’s very common for young couples to learn about the importance of being mevater. This can be a beautiful idea – deciding that something is truly worth giving up on, that it’s really not necessary. It’s a great skill to have and use appropriately. Possibly a more useful skill is that of measuring our own assumptions, noticing our expectations, and learning how to appreciate and respect those of our spouse. Starting marriage with that mindset helps use the inevitable differences of opinion as grounds for growth and creating closeness.
Yeshaya Kraus, LCSW 