There’s a magic response that stops conflict from escalating

Act 2, Scene 2. At the kitchen table:

Wife (to husband): Whenever you tell me I’m shouting, I immediately lower my voice. When I tell you that you’re shouting, you always deny it.

Husband: That’s not true.

Wife: Well, this morning when I said you were speaking too loudly, you told me you weren’t.

Husband: That’s because I wasn’t.

Wife: And this is what I mean. You almost always tell me that it isn’t true.

Husband: Because it’s not.

If this was a “choose your own ending” story, what option would you choose?

At this point, the couple goes back and forth until the end of time (“You deny it,” “I don’t deny it,” “You’re denying it now,” “Only because you’re wrong,” “See, you’re denying it,” “Because you’re wrong....”).

Wife says to husband, “Oh, I guess I must have been imagining it. Sorry for the false accusation.”

Wife throws her coffee cup on the floor and stomps out of the room muttering, “You’re impossible to deal with!”

Husband and wife don’t say another word to one another. Ever.

Husband and wife start chuckling, then cracking up hysterically. “It’s a riot how we can have conversations like this every night of the week! What a hoot!” And they live together happily ever after.

Now I’ll choose the ending.

Act 2, Scene 3. Still at the kitchen table:

Wife: So you don’t think you were speaking loudly this morning.

Husband: Exactly. In fact, because I know you don’t like me to raise my voice, I make every effort to keep it low, especially if we’re talking about a “heated” topic.

Wife: That’s very thoughtful. But there must be a reason that I think you’re shouting. Could it be that because the conversation doesn’t feel so friendly that it feels to me as if you’re shouting?

Husband: Yes, maybe you’re right about that. The kids often tell me that I’m yelling at them when I’m not yelling — I’m just correcting their behavior quietly but they don’t like it.

Wife: Might it be possible that you’re not speaking loudly, but that there is something unpleasant about the way you’re speaking? Maybe you’re sounding harsh? Or critical?

Husband: Hmmm, maybe.

Wife: Would you be open to me asking you to be a bit more gentle if I feel “shouted at,” even if you’re not shouting?

Husband: Definitely. Because then you’re not accusing me of doing something that I don’t think I’m doing.

Wife: Great.

Resolving Rather than Defending

Although it may seem like a giant leap from Scene 2 to Scene 3, it’s actually just a tiny step to constructive communication. Here’s the magic sentence that causes the transformation in the conversation above: So you don’t think you were speaking loudly this morning?

Unlike every sentence before it, this one receives and holds a communication (“So you don’t think...”) instead of tossing it back (“That’s not true.”)

There are many ways we defend ourselves against criticism from others. Sometimes we counterattack (“Well you do the same thing, so I don’t see why you’re complaining”). Sometimes we deflect (“You seem to be in a bad mood”). But most often, we defend ourselves (using some version of “I’m not a bad person, and you’re wrong to suggest that I might be!”).

Unfortunately, the refusal to receive and hold a communication invariably results in combat and/or unresolved hurt.

Fortunately, anyone can decide at any point in a conversation to start receiving and holding. In fact, the unpleasant first conversation above could have gone completely differently if the husband had responded as follows to his wife’s original complaint:

Wife (to husband): Whenever you tell me I’m shouting, I immediately lower my voice. When I tell you that you’re shouting, you always deny it.

Husband: So you’re upset that I deny raising my voice.

Wife: Exactly.

Husband: The truth is that I feel so confused when you say that I’m shouting because I know you don’t like me to raise my voice so I make every effort to keep it low, especially if we are talking about a “heated” topic....

And then the conversation could continue to resolution as per the second scenario above.

And the couple could live happily ever after.

See how easy that was?

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 931)