conflict and compassion
That one time that I started a journal...
To be real, I almost gave up on it, fueled by the same fears I had when I started it. But, here I am. Because the words we're pouring out of me today.
It’s hard to put into words exactly how these past few months have felt or been. It’s hard to say, “these past few months have been _______”, because they’ve been a lot of things. 2018 has brought about immense change for us. We moved back to Nashville, Coy started a new job, I was making big graduate school decisions, we found a new church and have started building a sweet little Nashville community.
In many ways, this season has been full of expectation and anticipation and excitement— I am thrilled about graduate school and I start next week. In other ways, this season has been full of conflict and grief and frustration, mostly surrounding the financial implications of going back to graduate school as a late-twenty something after becoming accustomed to a salary. Prior to making the decision to go back to school, Coy and I had hopped on the “let’s buy a house” train. Our recent combined income was going to make that a possibility and we were really excited about it.
Until the realities of graduate school sank in and then our collective excitement evolved into collective anxiety (and even collective panic). I’m not going to waste my energy venting about how ridiculous interest rates are on student loans (but seriously-- can’t I just promise someone I’ll pay them back and then get 0% interest? #suchanidealist)...nor am I going to dive into our rational (or how we got there) to cash flow graduate school, make big-time sacrifices, and be debt free later on. It's nuanced and unimportant.
What I am going to share is how this season required Coy and I to press into deeper intimacy with each other as we navigated some pretty hard conflict. And what I am going to share is how it required us to learn how to hold space and cultivate compassion for ourselves and for each other during this season.
Let me start off by saying that I had some really not-so shining moments these past months. Think 27-year old temper tantrums, okay? I relied heavily on my go-to defense mechanisms to deal with the pain and discomfort of conflict and disagreement and unmet expectations. I learned pretty early on to dismiss my anger (and pain). There was also a lot of triangulation that happened in my family growing up, so I didn’t necessarily learn how to confront the person who I had a conflict with directly; instead, I learned to go elsewhere for relief and resolution. I am also a 1 on the Enneagram*. As a 1, I am very conditioned to “stuffing” my anger and resentment. Sometimes that looks like using humor. Sometimes it looks like withdrawing and internally escalating. It almost always looks like avoiding conflict.
As a 1, conflict can feel similar to criticism— it makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong. Cue shame and the constant negative self-commentary my inner-critic levels at me all day. In order for me to form intimate relationships or even friendships, however, I have to overcome the fear of vulnerability and the fear of being hurt. It takes a lot of courage for me to engage in conflict because of my fear of making mistakes and my concern for saying or doing the wrong things. If I want an intimate and authentic marriage (which I do), then it means that I have to learn how to lay aside my defensive mechanisms, face hard things with courage, and believe that no matter the outcome of the argument or conflict, that I am still enough and loved and held by God.
How do I lay aside my defense mechanisms?
I have to get vulnerable.
First with myself, then with my husband.
It’s the only way to real intimacy.
Coy and I have had some really honest and raw and HARD conversations during this season, but here’s what I’ve learned. I’ve learned that I am capable of handling conflict in a healthy, productive way. I learned that I can engage in it (rather than avoid it) and use my voice, without trying to control the outcome of the situation. I’ve learned that really tough conversations usually produce the most abundant fruit. I’ve learned how my go-to defense mechanisms actually trigger Coy’s core fears and make him feel invalidated, unseen, and unimportant. The truth hurts sometimes. But the truth shows us what's real. We're strong enough to handle it, if we face it with loads of self-compassion and love.
Self-compassion and love TO SELF (and then to others) is worth the work it requires, as it's rarely automatic. Especially if you're an enneagram 1 and constantly have the self-critical, self-judgmental, relentless inner-critic soundtrack playing on repeat and without commercial breaks. Even as a One, maybe even especially as a One, we have the power to learn self-love and compassion. It is a critical part of growth, for anyone (not just 1's). I love what Richard Rohr says about befriending our inner-critic. He says, "what you resist persists." Instead of telling the inner-critic to shut up (which only gives it more power), try saying something like, "I hear you and appreciate the way you're trying to help me improve, but I'm taking a new path and I don't need your help anymore."
I've spent the last few months really learning, going deeper, letting go, and cultivating boundaries and self-compassion. It hasn't been an easy season, but I'm beginning to see the fruit of it. I'm beginning to see the ways it's strengthening me and Coy and our marriage.
I am learning that I can trust Coy with my heart.
I am learning that conflict doesn’t mean a loss of love.
I am learning that I am not always right.
I’m learning that conflict won’t drive a wedge between us, but instead actually connect us and bring us closer to each other.
I am learning to forgive, so that it might set me free.
Resentment never made a marriage stronger.
...
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I’ve been reminded in this season how important it is to sit with pain instead of trying to just make it go away or cramming is so far deep that you forget it’s there. It stays there and it holds so much power.
It’s so vulnerable. All of it is, if you want to live a wholehearted life.
I’ll leave you with a Brene Brown quote, because...lets be honest...she knows more than me.
“I define vulnerability as uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. With that definition in mind, let's think about love. Waking up every day and loving someone who may or may not love us back, whose safety we can't ensure, who may stay in our lives or may leave without a moment's notice, who may be loyal to the day they die or betray us tomorrow- that's vulnerability. Love is uncertain. It's incredibly risky. And loving someone leaves us emotionally exposed. Yes, it's scary, and yes, we're open to being hurt, but can you imagine your life without loving or being loved?”
*I plan on posting more about the enneagram later this year, but it’s an ancient personality typing system that I LOVE. I’m all about it. Because it doesn't put you in a box (thanks Myers-Briggs); it shows you the box you're in and how to get out of it. It is DEEP. To do Enneagram work is to be willing to face every part of you with honesty and self-compassion. If you're interested in learning more, I highly recommend the book, "The Road Back to You" by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile. I also recommend their podcasts: Typology and The Enneagram Journey.
We cannot know God until we really know ourselves (St. Augustine, i think)