Soapbox: Adulthood = Acting Right

Okay, this isn't about relationships, but since I have an audience I'm going to take this opportunity to hop on my metaphorical soapbox (which, if you ask my students, is something I'm highly prone to doing) and give a screaming lesson about life.

Today's soapbox: Being an adult means acting right.

Listen, life is tough. My mom started teaching me that lesson when I was about 8 years old. Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do - like going to work instead of posting up on our couches for three days and watching marathons of Golden Girls and the Walking Dead. Sometimes we have to put up with people whom we don't like and find it difficult to deal with, but they are our bosses or co-workers or in-laws and they aren't going anywhere. Sometimes we'd really love to drop a couple hundred bucks on a shiny new whatever-the-heck instead of making a car payment. Sometimes, we are bored with our romantic partner and entertain the idea of a tryst with a hot stranger.

Get of over it. Seriously.

Being a grown up - a full-fledged adult means taking responsibility for ourselves. I will grant you, getting old and bearing the responsibility that comes with movement through life as we age isn't always awesome. And it doesn't always come with benefits and rewards commensurate with increased responsibility. But you know what? That's life. Handle your business, pay your bills, contribute to society, and treat people well. Do these things even when you can't see a good reason for it because the success of larger social structures relies on individuals' willingness to make responsible choices.

Or you know what? Don't.

Here's the catch, though. If you want to choose to shirk the responsibility of adulthood and act like an irresponsible child, that's fine. BUT, that means you have to bear the consequences of those choices. If you lose your job, get your car repossessed, or have your spouse leave you because you were self-indulgent and utterly lacking in conscience, empathy, integrity, or foresight, then so be it. But shut up because I don't want to hear you gripe about your lousy lot in life. If your bad life circumstances are directly tied to silly, stupid choices, then revel in the mess you've made for yourself. Don't ask me for a ride, don't ask me for relationship advice, and don't ask me for a loan. You did that to yourself, so figure out how to work it out.

Quit sucking and act right, for crying out loud.

*hops off soapbox*

Lesson 4: "I'm Sorry" is Not a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free Card

The topic of our last lesson was the fact that a fight and a conflict are not the same thing. We haven't talked yet about effective, collaborative conflict management strategies, and we will come to that. Before we approach some conflict management strategies, though, I think it is important to talk about apologies. Regardless of whether you work hard at managing your conflicts well, and regardless of whether you can separate a conflict from a fight, it is reasonable to expect that occasionally we will need to give or accept an apology in a relationship.

If you're a fan of the drama show NCIS, you'll know that the quiet-but-effective protagonist, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, has a set of rules. Among them (number 6, I think it is) is that a person should never apologize as it is a sign of weakness. In general, I think Gibbs' rules are a good idea - always carry a knife (Rule 9), never date a co-worker (Rule 12), never screw over your partner (Rule 1). These are bits of wisdom and good advice for life. The business of never apologizing, on the other hand. Well that's a whole bunch of nonsense and I'll tell you why.

An apology is not a sign of weakness. Rather, when it is sincerely given, it is an acknowledgement of responsibility for some betrayal or other wrong-doing for which another person had to bear negative consequences. Without going into a whole lot of research, we do know that the acceptance of responsibility for wrong-doing serves important relationship functions including restoring equity after a transgression has been committed, and enabling forgiveness. So, Gibbs is way wrong when he says that apology is a sign of weakness. Rather, an apology  is an overt recognition and ownership of actions that we have taken that have harmed people we care about.

Now, here's the tricky part: an apology isn't a cure-all. An apology is not just a couple of little words that can smooth over the negative consequences of a wrong relational turn. An apology really only has any hope of moving two people past a betrayal if it is a legitimate sign that we are willing to accept responsibility for our negative actions and committed to trying to avoid the same wrong-doing in the future. We often make the mistake of translating our own apologies to other people as "I'm sorry that I did something that upset you and that we got into a fight over it." Rather, the more appropriate translation of our apologies should be "I'm sorry that I made a choice that caused you hurt. I accept responsibility for my actions and I commit to us both to try my best to avoid repeating the hurtful act."

If you find yourself (or your partner) repeatedly apologizing for the same hurtful action we must confront at least one of three likely realities:

1. You (or your partner) fail to realize that there was really, truly hurt on the other end of an action.

2. You (or your partner) fail to realize that the apology is a sign of ownership and acceptance of personal responsibility. You also probably fail to realize that accepting responsibility for a wrong-doing necessitates an attempt to modify the problematic behavior.

3. You (or your partner) realize that you did something to cause hurt and that you should change hurtful actions, but you just don't care. This can be the consequence of laziness, selfishness, or relational disinvestment. The particulars of why you don't care about the consequences of your actions are less important than the fact that this attitude has almost no hope of resulting in anything except the continuation of a pattern of wrong-doing.

If your situation is either 1 or 2 above, you have some hope for remedying repeated hurt. You can talk to your partner about what an apology really means. You can talk about why the action is hurtful or otherwise negative. You can talk about possible alternatives to the problematic action that can meet your needs without hurting your partner. There is talking to be done, but there is a lot of potential here to move past a repeated conflict.

On the other hand, if scenario 3 above is more what you're looking at, it might be time to revisit whether or not the relationship is something that you should be bound to. I do believe in talking, productive conflict and relational work, but if you need to be convinced to do right by a partner, you probably have some work to do for yourself first before you try to bind yourself to someone else. (If your partner is the transgressor, you might want to revisit an earlier post here at Relationship School about knowing when to toss in the towel).

Here's the long story short: It is important to exchange apologies in a relationship. Being able and willing to honestly say to a partner that you have committed a wrong-doing can help us move past the hurtful action and into a place where we have learned and grown together as people and as partners. Apologies are not cure-alls, they aren't instant fixes, and they don't take the place of working to be better for the people we love. Don't apologize if you don't mean it - that action cheapens an apology and causes it to lose their tremendous relational value that we often take for granted. 

Class dismissed.

Lesson 3: Conflict Part I - A Fight and A Conflict Are NOT the Same Thing

One of  my favorite lessons to teach in my Interpersonal Communication class is the unit on conflict. To this day, it astounds me that a simple reframing of what a conflict is vs. what it isn't can change people's minds about how they approach a conflict interaction with their partners.

There are several academic definitions for what constitutes a conflict. For our purposes, though, I'm going to identify a conflict like this:

A conflict is a conversation in which two people who share a relationship together each speak their needs, find that their needs are incompatible with their partner's needs, and they work collaboratively to find a way to meet both their needs.

I'd like to emphasize a few important parts of this definition.

First, a conflict is a conversation. You have these all the time. You have them about the weather, and TV shows, and cosmetic products, and what's in the news and whatnot. There is no reason that a conflict has to be anymore daunting or terrifying than a conversation about anything else. (Okay, your relational investment and how important the issue is can change the tone of a conflict, but that's a lesson for a different day).

Second, a conflict allows two people to speak their needs to one another. A good relationship is one in which each partner recognizes that a relationship is an environment in which people exchange resources, and that exchange of resources is supposed to provide for each person's needs. If you read back to Lesson 2: Glowworm Theory, you'll remember that we form relationships specifically to have our needs met. A relationship cannot function well when you have needs, be they emotional, logistical, or whatever else, that are going unmet. However, you and your partner cannot expect that you will each provide for each other's needs unless you communicate them to one another.

Finally, a conflict requires collaboration. It is often the case that your needs are incompatible with those of your partner. This may be as simple a situation as your wanting to eat Chinese and your partner wanting to eat Mexican, or as serious as you want to get married where your partner is content never to be married. Regardless of the importance of the issue, the fact is, there can be no satisfactory resolution if partners are not willing to cooperate and work toward a solution that is best for both parties. We'll talk in another lesson about strategies for achieving collaborative solutions to conflict, but for the time being it's important to spend some time understanding what a conflict is, and what it isn't.

A conflict is NOT a fight. Think about any fight you've ever seen: a bar fight, a boxing match, whatever. The objective is that someone wins by way of beating the daylights out of the loser to the point that the loser is rendered incapable of further participation (or standing upright). Imagine applying that model to your relationship. If you approach a conflict as a competition in which you intend to win (i.e., achieve your needs) at your partner's expense (i.e., your partner's hurt and emotional and verbal inability to speak his or her needs to you), nothing good, beautiful or productive will come. Rather, we breed hurt, animosity and resentment. And, if you ask me, resentment is like relational Round-Up - the stuff kills relationships right down to the roots.

Here's the long story short: a conflict is a conversation. It is NOT an opportunity for you to emotionally lay your partner out. If you stop thinking about conflict as a war to be fought and won, and start thinking of it as an opportunity to collaboratively address both your needs and those of your partner, this can change the way you approach conflict episodes. The simple readjustment in your thinking can be the first step to promoting a more positive and open attitude as you communicate your needs to your partner.

Next time, we'll talk about communicative strategies for improving conflict interactions as well as a few things to avoid.

Until next time, class dismissed.