The Value of the Repair after the Rupture (Part 1)
I begin with the proposal that the repair after the rupture is more valuable than there never being a rupture in the first place.
Nonetheless, I have spent a great deal of energy avoiding personal conflict in my life. I’ll suppress my needs to accommodate the needs and interests of others. I’m pretty good at this. With a high capacity for empathy, observation, and adaptability, I’ve lived a mostly conflict-free life. (I’m including the Thomas-Kilmann Conflict Modes model below for further context.)*
But something has been missing. I’m not showing up. The danger in constantly adapting my needs to those of others is that I disappear. When I project the responsibility onto others for my self-sacrifices, I become resentful. This corrosive force has been a recurring theme in my relationships. I feel that my sacrifice goes unacknowledged, I begin to feel trapped, and then I long to be alone.
Not only is this behavior self-destructive, but there is also a hidden distortion of perception in this tendency. When I focus solely on pleasing and taking care of others, I miss that others also experience the joy of giving. I find great pleasure in helping others, and they do too. If I keep my interests to myself, I take away the opportunity for others to even consider sharing with me or offering support. My desire for people to voice their needs is genuine, but I tend not to afford my gift to others.
I remember my good friend telling me once that she needed me to say “No” to her sometimes so that she could trust that my “Yes” was authentic. Now, years later, I’m finally practicing my capacity to say “No.” Another way to say it is that I’m practicing my ability to show up authentically, which requires me to say “No” and ask for what I want. More than anything, it asks me to act from my heart.
There seems to be a serious danger in ceasing to defer to others and asking for what I want, and it is two-fold: The first danger is that when I say “No” to someone, or they say “No” to my authentic request, I’ll find myself in conflict. The second danger is that I risk disappointing others by acting authentically, which will be my fault.
So, I find myself in a bind. I either avoid conflict, disappoint myself and risk withering away in resentment and isolation, or I express my authentic interests, act from my heart, and risk conflict and being responsible for letting people down.
One tool that I’ve learned comes from Celeste Hirschman, co-creator of Somatica and author of Making Love Real. She offers the following three-part commitment that she makes in relationships. Let’s consider the same commitments:
1. Maintain the connection,
2. Show up with your authentic self,
3. Stay for the repair that comes after the rupture.
I love how this simple set of commitments points to a cycle. The first commitment sets the foundation. By committing to the connection, we affirm that the relationship is one that we are in, and we know that it is important, valuable or at least inevitable.
The second commitment affirms that a quality connection requires the involved parties to show up and bring their best selves. It’s better if both can bring their whole self to the table, but we can only begin by doing this for ourselves.
The third commitment is a direct result of the first two. If we are in a relationship with others and are committed to expressing our true needs and interests, we will eventually find ourselves in conflict. There will always be disagreements in authentic relationships, and there will be rupture, and it becomes crucial to follow through with the repairs. This brings us back to our first commitment to maintain the connection.
We are guaranteed to grow if we authentically hold the connection and follow through with the tough stuff.
So, here is my current practice in life. I am going to practice speaking up for my interests and needs. I say practice because I know it is a skill that I’ve been developing and will continue to. The skill that I’m specifically trying to work on is being curious about what is coming up for me. When? With who? In what conditions and contexts? Eventually, I hope to learn to communicate what I want in a direct and clear way that’s also compassionate. Generally, when I try to be nice, I am indirect to a fault, and the result is drawn-out and painful miscommunication.
In contrast, when I find the courage to speak my voice, I usually have to cut through my frustration, resulting in a bratty outburst. I want to trust that I can talk confidently in a mature way that’s easy to hear, but the truth is that I am practicing. This practice very much humbles me.
This brings me to the point I started this conversation with: the repair after the rupture is more valuable than there never being a rupture in the first place.
We are in a world of diverse people and perspectives that will not always align. It means that to have a world with thriving people and relationships, we’ll need to give a voice to those perspectives. This will often lead to rupture, especially if we are still unskilled in how we say “yes” or “no” or if we still struggle with people saying “yes” or “no” to us. We are all in a lifelong process of learning how to be humans, so we can also practice being patient with one and another.
The main point here is that magic can happen when we put our cards on the table, even when it becomes a mess. When we express ourselves in ways that leave us and those around us triggered, we are invited to commit to the follow-through of the repair process. When we choose to repair the ruptures that result from our authentic expression, we are doing something extraordinary.
We are affirming that everyone’s voices and perspectives are valid and desired. We are also affirming that there is space for the emotions that the expression of our interests brings up. In a way, we are saying that both the relationship and the individual matter, and we simultaneously affirm that the process matters too.
So, here is my commitment. I’m going to let myself voice my own needs. It is not just a request. It is a gift. To do this, I’m going to take refuge in the idea that my capacity to follow through with the repair after the ruptures will strengthen my relationships, foster collaboration and liberation.
*Thomas Kilmann Conflict Modes model presents five strategies for folk to use in the face of conflict. The y-axis is a measure of how important it is to get the outcome that you want. The x-axis is a measure of how much you want to preserve the relationship. Those who seek to preserve the relationship, but don’t care about their own needs, will tend to accommodate the requests/demands of the other. Those who care about their outcome, but not the relationship, will compete with the other person.
Many hedge their bets and compromise where neither is fully satisfied, but at least they can meet some needs for outcome and relationship. The choice to avoid conflict means that you will never get your needs met, and it also implies that you will never be in a full relationship. Conflict is a natural part of being in connection with other humans. The dream is to collaborate, take the time to find an outcome that meets both people’s needs, and affirm the relationship in the process. All of these strategies are appropriate in specific contexts. It is advantageous to be aware and intentional in what you are choosing and why.