Interpersonal conflict can bring out things in us that we (and others) do not like. Our usual way of interacting may turn into one that is uncharacteristic of us and how we want to show up. Our responses may surprise and upset us. We might be consciously or unconsciously aware we are re-enacting a parent’s or someone else’s reaction, though we don’t like it. Our communication style at these times may also remind us of other occasions we also acted in this manner. In the end, it’s mystifying why we interact the way we do. While other times we have a good idea of why.

The raw emotions that reflect our hurt, anger, rage, disappointment, dejection and other distraught feelings from the interaction frequently account for how we communicate in conflict. We might also not like how the outcome is headed – such as getting the result we want. We may try different ways of responding in hopes we will persuade the other person to see things our way. Or, feeling fed up, despairing and exhausted may also contribute to who and how we become under conflict stress.

Having lost perspective and a sense of how we want to be and be perceived despite the impact of the conflict, we often don’t have the wherewithal to contemplate the optimal way of responding that aligns with our hopes and expectations for the relationship and outcome.

Consider these questions as you bring to mind a conflict in which you acknowledge you weren’t who you wanted to be.

• What was the conflict about?
• What characteristics did you demonstrate that were not the “you” you wanted to be?
• What seemed to bring that on (your answer to the previous question)?
• How do you describe who you became?
• What did you dislike most about who you became?
• What worked about how you acted? In what way(s)?
• What didn’t work? In what way(s)?
• If you have become a person you don’t like in other conflicts what themes may there be, such as what specifically provokes your reaction, who triggers you, the reasons you attribute for the other person’s words of deeds, etc.?
• How would you prefer to be that aligns more closely with how you want to manage conflict?
• Next time, how might you be intentional about achieving your preferred way of being when in conflict?
• What else occurs to you as you consider these questions?
• What insights do you have?

Sometimes, walking away from a conflict is the optimal choice. We might realize there’s no useful purpose in continuing to interact when, for instance, both of us are being positional, blameful, angry and tense. We may wait until we gain composure and more perspective on what we both need to resolve matters. However, we may decide the issues are not worth fighting about, or that the conflict is too laden with risks to the relationship.

Other possibilities are that we don’t care enough, or we care a great deal and fear negative repercussions on the relationship. Or, perhaps we are just fed up, discouraged, pessimistic, hurt and hopeless.

This week’s blog invites you to consider a conflict you walked away from when answering the following questions.

• What was the conflict about?
• How do you describe what specifically you walked away from?
• For what reasons did you do so from the above possibilities or others that explain why you walked away?
• In what ways was walking away a good choice?
• In what ways was it not a good choice?
• What would have had to occur to preclude you from walking away?
• What did you walk to?
• Thinking about this situation now, does your original choice about walking away still feel like the optimal one? Why?
• How does your original choice not feel like the optimal one? Why not?
• What choices – other than walking away – are you considering now that you didn’t when the conflict first happened?
• What else occurs to you as you consider these questions?
• What insights do you have?

The expression “to lose our temper” refers to various angry reactions to conflict. Our voices might go up; our faces might contort or become red; we might speak quickly and with expletives; we might rant and rave; and we might otherwise respond in ways that demonstrate our temper is rising and we feel out of control of our emotions.

It’s times like this we say “I lost my temper” (or someone says that to or about us by observation). In either case, it’s not the optimal time to engage in conciliatory conversations because that’s clearly not the state of mind we are in. Rather, it’s a time to step back and gain some distance – to reduce the hotness of the temper and regain our cool.

If you bring to mind a time you lost your temper to answer the following questions, it will hopefully help to deconstruct what you lost.

• How do you describe your usual temperament?
• What is the situation in which you lost your temper?
• In what ways did you feel you lost your temper such that it was obvious you were not in your usual temperament?
• If you were able to observe yourself, what were the facial and bodily signs you were losing your temper?
• What resulted in you losing your temper?
• What did you ‘lose’ when you lost your temper?
• What impact did that (your answer to the previous question) have on the conflict?
• What was the impact on the other person? How did she or he respond to you?
• What do you generally have to do to regain your temper? What did you do in this situation?
• How might you have retained your usual temperament in the situation you described?
• What else occurs to you as you consider these questions?
• What insights do you have?

Sometimes, when in conflict, we may react with a resounding “Who cares?” as a way to dismiss the interaction and make it sound unimportant. Such a response might seem to be somewhat of a defence rather than a true proclamation of our perspective on the dynamic and its impact. The question “Who cares?” is reminiscent to me, too, of that oft-used expression from a number of years ago that went something like, “Tell someone who cares”.

It occurs to me that often we care more than we show it or want to, and possibly, the degree to which we are experiencing emotions about the interaction and its effect on us is really quite significant. Maybe, we don’t want to admit how much the conflict hurts or our fear of being hurt trumps admitting it.

When thinking about the times you have asked “Who cares?” in response to a conflict or situation, consider these questions to check out whether it matters, or if you or someone else cares.

• What was happening in the conflict when you said “Who cares?”
• To whom did you say that (to the other person, to a friend, other)?
• What prompted you to ask “Who cares?” at that moment in time?
• What may you actually care about with respect to the dispute that is niggling at some level of consciousness?
• How is your response having an impact on the outcome (that you haven’t referred to yet)?
• What do you care about regarding the other person?
• Who else may care about the outcome of the dispute? Why is that?
• What do you think the other person cares about regarding the conflict between you?
• What might you both care about that you are not mentioning?
• How are you not caring about yourself?
• What else occurs to you as you consider these questions?
• What insights do you have?