Did you ever have the dream where you forgot to go to several high school
or college classes and by the time you realized your oversight you felt so
freaked out that you put all your energy into avoiding your professor and
the rest of your classes until you either flunked out or woke up? It’s a
common dream, and while it’s usually related to anxiety, it’s also a
great metaphor for some common behavior: creating conflict by trying to
avoid it. In the dream, there is a crossroads where you realize what you
should do to correct the situation, but decide not to, and quickly begin
to descend into the quagmire of unnecessary conflict avoidance.
Certainly, avoiding conflict is a healthy response in many situations.
When an aggressive driver harasses you on the road, it’s a good idea to
get out of his or her way. When your manager tells you to do something in
front of a group of people, it’s usually best to discuss any concerns
you have one-on-one. But why do we avoid conflict when we shouldn’t,
especially when the situation involves a partner or a friend? Why is it so
hard to get it right with the people we care most about?
There are probably as many answers as there are people to why we create
unnecessary conflict by trying to avoid it, but two of the most common
reasons I hear are: I didn’t want to hurt her/his feelings, and I didn’t
want to let her/him down. (Similar, but subtly different.) The irony, of
course, is that by dealing quickly and honestly with an uncomfortable
situation, small or large, there is a good chance you will avoid real
conflict and not hurt anyone’s feelings. Choosing dishonesty or total
avoidance exacerbates the situation and creates exactly what you tried to
avoid. How many times have you had a commitment with a friend or friends
and for some reason the friend(s) is not going to follow through? As busy
as our lives are, chances are it happens fairly often. "Can’t make
it Friday. Our week is too crazy and we’re just not going to have the
energy to join you for dinner." Unless canceling plans is a pattern
with your friends (which is another story) or it’s a special occasion
that has been planned for months, the disappointment factor is minimal and
the call is appreciated. Simple actions and honesty speak volumes. Making
that call says you take responsibility for your feelings, your decisions,
and your actions. It says you care enough about your friend and your
friendship to be honest, and that you are courteous enough to give your
friends time to make other plans. Personally, I’d much rather hear a
friend say she’s too tired to spend Friday night with me than to make up
an excuse, because the reality is, I will hear the lie and my
disappointment will go far beyond simply not getting together for dinner.
Why is such seemingly simple behavior so complicated? First, everyone
has their own conflict barometer. For me, people have to practically draw
knives before I think there is real conflict. I grew up in a family where
it was okay to question authority (within reason), where expressing your
opinions honestly was expected, where emotion was displayed (often
loudly), and taking responsibility for ones actions was paramount. We were
taught to have thick skin and not take things personally. Did that
upbringing make me and my four siblings ideally suited to deal with
conflict? No. I’m definitely sensitive and I struggle to not take
certain things personally. But my upbringing, just like yours, laid the
groundwork for each of our conflict barometers, including what we expect
from others.
At work, where some might perceive a boisterous session of questioning
and banter as conflict, I, and others with a similar conflict barometer,
will perceive the same discussion as healthy discourse. At home, when my
partner tells me to "lose those 1970’s jeans", I take her
opinion under consideration without much duress. When a friend calls to
say she can’t meet me on the boardwalk for a run, I appreciate the call.
What I don’t appreciate is when colleagues don’t express their
opinions when we’re having a meeting to do just that, or my partner
doesn’t save me from a fashion faux pas, or I get no call at all and I’m
left standing on the boardwalk looking at my watch. If your conflict
barometer reaches red at the thought of having to tell friends you can’t
meet them for dinner because your partner already made plans with another
couple, you’ve probably already made a list of what, in your mind, are
perfectly acceptable excuses for not stating your opinion in meetings, not
telling your partner her clothes are dated, or not calling your friend to
renege on a run. And the truth is, that each of those excuses probably has
less to do with not hurting someone’s feelings or letting someone down,
then it does with your own need to avoid discomfort.
That leads to two factors that influence your barometer: honesty and
integrity. Think about the last time you didn’t do something you said
you would or failed to speak up when you should have. Were you honest with
yourself as to why you didn’t follow through? Were you honest with the
other person? If not, why not? Be honest.
When I was a kid, any bad-assed brat in the neighborhood could have a
big laugh at my expense. I was a trusting runt. I thought if you said
something, you meant it. As an adult, I consider myself both street-wise
and book smart. There are untold numbers of books and articles addressing
the nature of conflict, and though I have read many of them, my first
instinct is still to believe someone when they tell me they are going to
do something. Otherwise, why listen? And if you don’t listen to someone,
how can you build a meaningful relationship?
At the heart of integrity is choosing to do the right thing. The surest
way to build trust and demonstrate integrity is to do what you say you’re
going to do, and explain, quickly and honestly if you can’t keep your
commitments. Easier said than done, I know. But, hey, if you can weather
the discomfort of being straight up with the ones you care about on the
little stuff, chances are, they know in their hearts you’ll be honest
about the big stuff too.