Avoiding

I will combine all the previous elements—the original article, the story of Summer and Eddy, and the other sections—into a single, cohesive blog post. I will structure it with clear headings and a natural flow, creating a professional and engaging piece of content about the dangers of avoidance in relationships.

---

The Silent Killer: How Avoiding Conflict Destroys Your Relationship

Sometimes it feels like it's all just too much. The last thing you want to do is talk about your love life, let alone be in the same room with the person you love. This feeling, when you know a problem exists but you don't want to deal with it, is called avoidance. It’s more than just putting something out of your mind for a little while; it's the first step down a path toward emotional denial.

As a professional counselor, I see this pattern in many relationships, and it often extends to all areas of a person's life, whether at work, with friends, or at home. Avoiding conflict or rejection can be a powerful motivator to keep our feelings bottled up. We may have even learned this behavior as children, believing that stuffing our feelings away was the best way to keep the peace. But what happens when that peace comes at the cost of our own emotional well-being and the health of our relationships?

---

The Cycle of Avoidance

Avoiding conflict is often a deeply ingrained behavior that you might not even realize you're doing. Let’s walk through a common example to bring this pattern into awareness.

It starts when your partner says or does something that bothers you.

1. Internalization: You think, "I really don't like this," but you immediately question the validity of your own feelings. "Is it really that important?" you ask yourself.

2. Repression: You decide it's not worth the potential conflict or hurting the other person's feelings, so you say nothing. You try to act like everything is "fine," even though you're not as good at pretending as you think.

3. Resentment: The issue comes up again, and you begin to resent that it's not going away. You think, "Ugh, not again. They should know this would bother me. What is wrong with them?" This is the point where the pattern solidifies, and the cycle continues.

4. The Breaking Point: After going over the problem in your head countless times—and still saying nothing to your partner—you reach a breaking point. This usually manifests in one of two damaging ways.

---

A Story of Summer and Eddy

To see how this plays out in real life, let’s meet our imaginary couple, Summer and Eddy.

Summer and Eddy had a beautiful, old home that was a constant work in progress. Eddy loved tinkering with projects, but he had a habit of leaving his tools and materials scattered around. Summer, a meticulous organizer, hated the clutter, especially in the living room, which she considered a shared space.

One evening, she walked into the living room to find Eddy's toolkit and a half-finished lamp project sprawled across the coffee table. Her first thought was, "Ugh, I wish he would put his things away." But immediately, she countered it with, "He’s just so passionate about his hobbies. It's not a big deal. I shouldn't make a fuss."

Instead of saying anything, Summer quietly moved the tools, gave a half-hearted smile when Eddy came in, and said, "It's fine, honey." She said nothing, pretending everything was okay.

A few weeks later, the scene repeated itself. This time, Summer's internal monologue was sharper. "Seriously? We talked about this, well, I thought we did. Doesn't he care about my feelings? What is wrong with him that he can't see this is a problem?" The frustration festered, and she began to feel a deep resentment toward Eddy every time she saw his projects.

The cycle continued until one Saturday. They were rushing to get to a friend's party, and Summer couldn't find her car keys. Eddy, without looking up from his phone, casually suggested, "Did you check the counter?" It was a simple, helpful question, but for Summer, it was the final straw. All the unspoken anger about the tools, the clutter, and feeling unheard came bubbling up.

The Fallout: When Avoidance Explodes or Implodes

This small moment triggered the eruption. Summer exploded, shouting about how Eddy was careless, didn't respect her, and never listened. She rattled off a list of every frustration she had ever had, from the messy projects to the time he left his muddy shoes by the front door last winter. Eddy was completely taken aback. He had no idea the tools were such a big issue. He stared at her, stunned, as if he had just met a stranger.

This is just one way the cycle ends. The other common reaction is the implosion, where you stuff the feelings even deeper, becoming more and more distant. You decide you must have made a mistake in the relationship, or worse, that you don't deserve to have your feelings considered. You retreat into misery, believing that nothing will ever get better, and you begin to mentally check out of the relationship.

Neither of these responses is healthy or reasonable, but both are the natural consequences of avoidance.

---

Escaping the Cycle

Avoidance is a form of emotional self-protection. You don't have to share your true feelings, and you can maintain a safe emotional distance. However, this illusion of safety comes at a high cost. Pretending keeps you in a state of misery, making it impossible to be truly happy in your relationship.

The fear is that if you are honest, all your fears might come true. But the truth is, if you are not honest, they most certainly will.

Learning to navigate the "what-ifs" is crucial. The alternative is a sinking boat. After years of small, unaddressed issues, the emotional rot sets in. The leaks become insurmountable, and the relationship, no matter how strong its foundation once was, can no longer stay afloat.

Learning to communicate your feelings directly and honestly, even when it's uncomfortable, is the only way to build a relationship that is truly resilient. It’s about having the courage to trust your partner with your whole self—not just the parts you think they’ll like.

The Power of Presence: Supporting Loved Ones Through Tough Times

 In our fast-paced, problem-solving oriented world, it's all too easy to fall into the trap of trying to "fix" others when they're going through a tough time. In our rush to solve problems, we offer unsolicited advice, push solutions onto them, or try to distract them from their pain with forced cheerfulness. While these actions may come from a place of care and concern, they often leave our struggling loved ones feeling unheard, invalidated, and even more alone.

As relationship experts, we must remember that true support doesn't come in the form of quick fixes or band-aid solutions. Instead, it lies in being fully present with someone as they navigate their pain, allowing them to process their emotions at their own pace, and providing a safe, non-judgmental space for them to do so.

A Story of Presence

Imagine Sarah, who's recently lost her job after years of dedicated service. She's devastated, feeling a mix of fear, anger, and sadness. You know she's going through hell, but you're at a loss for how to help.

You could say something like, "I've got a friend who works in HR; I can put in a good word for you," or "Maybe this is a sign that it's time for a career change!" While these suggestions might be well-intentioned, they trivialize Sarah's feelings and dismiss the gravity of her situation.

Instead, look at her friend Bo with an intentional approach. When she arrived at his door, her shoulders were hunched, a posture he hadn't seen since her last brutal breakup. Her eyes, usually so bright and full of a quick-witted spark, were dull, swollen, and red-rimmed—like she'd been staring into a void. He didn't say a word. He just pulled her into a hug, not a quick, polite one, but a long, slow embrace that was more of an anchor than a greeting. He felt the tension in her body slowly release, and for a moment, she just melted into his arms.

The dining room table, set simply with two mismatched plates and a single candle, felt like a sanctuary. But she picked at the food, pushing the pasta around with her fork, the clinking of the silverware the only sound besides the rain hitting the windowpane. He watched her, not with impatience, but with an open heart. He knew that the words she needed to say were stuck, a tangled knot in her throat.

Finally, he broke the silence, but not the peace. "Sarah," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "I'm just so incredibly sorry. This just… sucks." He didn't offer a platitude. He didn't try to silver-line her grief with "new opportunities" or "everything happens for a reason." He just let the truth of her situation sit there between them. In that space of honest quiet, something shifted. Her dam of control finally broke.

The words came in a torrent: the betrayal of being let go after pouring her life into a project, the searing injustice of it all, the fear of starting over at forty-three. She told him about the colleagues who were like family, and the sting of their goodbyes. His only job was to be her sounding board. He nodded, his own heart aching, murmuring things like, "Yeah, that's so unfair," or "I can't even imagine." He became a mirror for her emotions, not a judge.

When her voice trailed off, leaving a fragile silence in its wake, he didn't rush to fill it with his own thoughts. Instead, he simply asked, "What do you need from me right now?" It was an open-ended question that gave her all the power. Her voice, now softer, came back, "Just... this. This right here."

By the end of the night, as the candle had burned down to a nub, a fragile peace had settled over her. As he walked her to the door, she gave him another hug, this one shorter but just as meaningful. "Thank you for just… being here for me," she said, her voice now a bit stronger.

"Always," he replied, his smile warm and sincere. "Always, Sarah. I'm right here."

The Gift of Being Present

Being truly present—resisting the urge to fix or solve—is one of the most meaningful ways to support someone. It takes patience, empathy, and the courage to sit with discomfort. But in doing so, you create a space of trust and understanding that can mean the world.

The next time someone you love is hurting, don't rush to fill the silence with advice or optimism. Instead, sit with them, listen deeply, and let them feel your presence. As the saying goes, "Pain shared is pain lessened." By holding space for their struggles, you help lighten their load—one quiet, compassionate moment at a time.

Bo's actions are helpful because they provide Sarah with a safe space to process her emotions without judgment or pressure. Instead of trying to "fix" her problem or offer unhelpful platitudes, Bo meets her exactly where she is emotionally.

Here's a breakdown of how his actions demonstrate true support:

1. He offers physical comfort without words. The long hug at the beginning acts as an anchor, allowing Sarah to release her physical tension and feel grounded. This non-verbal communication shows her that he's there for her, no matter what.

2. He validates her pain. When he says, "I'm just so incredibly sorry. This just… sucks," he's not trying to find a silver lining. He's acknowledging the truth of her situation and letting her know that her feelings are valid. This simple statement gives her permission to feel sad and angry.

3. He actively listens. Bo doesn't interrupt or offer solutions. He simply listens to her torrent of emotions, becoming a "sounding board" and a "mirror for her emotions." By saying things like, "Yeah, that's so unfair," he shows that he's engaged and empathetic, without taking the focus away from her experience.

4. He gives her control. The question, "What do you need from me right now?" is powerful because it hands the power back to Sarah. It shows that he respects her autonomy and understands that she knows what she needs best. He isn't imposing his idea of help; he's letting her guide the interaction.

Ultimately, Bo's approach is helpful because he understands that what Sarah needs isn't a quick fix, but a supportive presence. He gives her the space to feel her emotions and be heard, which is exactly what allows her to find a "fragile peace" by the end of the night.

A Guide to Being Present

To embody this kind of support, follow these steps:

1. Be There: Show up, physically or emotionally. Clear your schedule, create a warm environment, and give them your full attention.

2. Listen Fully: Practice active listening—make eye contact, nod, and respond sparingly to keep the focus on them. Resist interrupting or offering solutions.

3. Honor Their Feelings: Validate their emotions with simple phrases like "That sounds so hard" or "I can see why you're hurting." Let them know they're not alone. Listening and correcting can be very very different.

4. Support Without Controlling: Ask open-ended questions like "What's been the toughest part for you?" or "Is there anything I can do?" Offer help if they want it, but let them lead.

Learning by going through an experience, rather than talking it away, is a process known as experiential learning. This mechanism is rooted in the idea that direct involvement and reflection on an activity are more effective for creating lasting knowledge and skills than passive reception of information.

Look in the mirror and what do I see? Nothing good. Why IS that?

I remember being in my early 20's and living in Nashville, TN with 3-4 beautiful other girls in a 3 story condo off of West End Ave.  We called ourselves Troop 208, because we were all "good girls" (like girl scouts, really) and we lived in #208, so it fit.  We were "on top of the world" learning how to be adults, working for a living and enjoying the process as we muddled our way into the great wide future ahead of us.  We were what would be considered "normal", happy and focused in our direction.  We believed we knew what we wanted and where we wanted to go.  But it wasn't quite enough...at least not for me.  I never felt like I had it figured out...and I never felt like I'd be good enough.  And I still struggle with that to this day.

It wouldn't be such a big deal, if I could simply focus on what is good, but I always seem to find the negative in a situation.  There was always the issue I should have thought through more, or handled differently, or even more superficially, I was not really pretty enough and was the "nice" one in the group, because I wasn't beautiful like my roommates and VERY awkward when it came to men I was interested in.  I had difficulty feeling good about who I was. I have a very distinct memory of living at Troop 208, looking in the mirror when getting ready for work one day and saying to myself, "Well, Andrea, you're just going to have to make it on personality."

Truth be told, I've never felt pretty enough, or skinny enough, smart enough, or sexy enough...even when it's possible I might have been.  The exception to this may have been my wedding day.  And THAT I can thank my husband, family and friends for .  The pictures were flattering and the memories so very sweet, so I have something to look back on and say, "There!  On that day, right there, I felt on top of the world and finally like I was who I always hoped to be!"  The fact that I couldn't remember if I shampooed and conditioned my hair in the shower, or just conditioned my hair twice on that day, is irrelevant. I had everything I wanted, a man who loved me unconditionally, and I felt loved and treasured for who I was.  So why did that feeling not last?  Well, that's a good question and one I've been trying to figure out ever since.  Once I found the right guy, all of those insecurities and confusion should have ended, right?  Well, not exactly.  And I can't say that any of it has to do with David.  He has always loved me unconditionally.  Which still boggles my mind.  Even after 20 years and a MUCH fuller figure, scars and wrinkles, he loves and treasures me.

The problem is, when I look in the mirror, I see the flaws.  All of them, at once, in technicolor. And I wonder, how could anyone want to be with someone like me?  I have a group of women friends in Austin that I don't hang out with nearly enough.  These women are empowering, loving and not one bit afraid to be who they are.  They live out loud, grab for their happiness and continue in their lives very purposefully in spite of the obstacles they run across.  They embrace their flaws in such a way that I can only be envious of how beautiful they are in spite of them and I wish...oh, how I wish, I could be as confident in myself as they are.  At least as confident as I think they are.  They may struggle as much as I do, but if they do, I don't see it.

So why is it so hard for me?  I could easily look to and blame society and the "perfection" that we hold up as the ultimate woman (which is truly unattainable by anyone).  I could blame the fact that I've gone through too much emotionally to be able to pay attention to my weight and fitness and aging needs over the years, but truthfully, when it comes down to it, I know that even if I were still as skinny as I once was, I would still not feel like I'm pretty enough. So it comes down to the fact that I need to learn to accept myself, and all of my physical flaws and not see them as something to constantly overcome, because there is no "perfect" attainment in this area.  It varies and everyone appreciates something different.  When I look in the mirror, I want to learn how to see the deep blue of my eyes that are twinkling with happiness about how my kids are doing, and not the wrinkles next to them that say I'm getting old.  That I am grateful that I can still go out and do things physically, even though I may not be the perfect size  (I'm limited because I'm no longer 20 as to what I can do without hurting myself).  That when I smile, I don't see the imperfect teeth I have, but the joy behind it that speaks to what I have in love from my family.  That when my husband sees me coming out of the shower, he smiles at me and doesn't think I'm too fat to find desirable.

Could I be in better shape physically?  Absolutely.  Should I let it or any other of my physical flaws get in the way of my happiness?  Absolutely NOT.  Is it so important that I be "perfect" that I can't appreciate life going on around me?  No, it's something I need to learn to let go of and appreciate who I am, as I am, knowing there is always room for improvement.  It shouldn't take away my joy.  That's what I'm working on these days.  How about you?  Do you struggle with letting go of these kinds of issues?  If so, share what you feel as well.  We're all human and we all struggle...in spite of our faith.

Through The Pain

     We have to let God take us through things and let Him work in us so our mess becomes our message. Difficult things that we have endured in our past prepare us for God's blessings in our future. - Joyce Meyer

    When counseling the question of "How" is always in the discussion. How do I get to where I am going? How do I forgive people who have hurt me? How do I find the strength to deal with my problems?

     The answer is always to face whatever is blocking the way. Our culture is full of answers that help us avoid our pain. We can get drunk or high, we can immerse ourselves in work, we can dissapear into books or television. The most difficult the we can do is quietly search ourselves for an answer. Then take action that leads us towards our goal.

     There is no quick solution. The work ahead is hard but the rewards are amazing.

   So today take steps through your pain towards the goal. Imagine that you are happy and do things that will feed happiness. Identify those things that hold you back and one at a time let them go. None of us got into our mess quickly and we can't get out of it quickly.

I Never Win

     She looked at me and said "FINE YOU WIN".

     While that might be technically true. I made the discussion so hard that it was impossible. I didn't feel like I won anything. I felt like a jerk. What I had been trying to say slipped away unnoticed. I wondered to myself what is winning?

     When I was younger it was simple, winning was being right. As I have gotten older and life has gone down paths I never imagined, I realized that I only had minimal control over my ship. Winning wasn't winning. Tears and anger had no place in my mind and heart. The big question "What is Winning?". It comes now in smaller things. A smile or hug or quiet walk. Holding hands and cuddles. Planning our future and observing the kids growing up.

     Forgiveness is winning. Forgiving myself for those mistakes, forgiving her for hurting me. In forgiveness there is peace. It doesn't come fast and strong, it grows slowly over time. We both have to try to accept the good changes and try to let go of the bad habits. I love my wife, so winning can only be about that love.

     The most amazing thing is I have the CHOICE. I choose what makes me feel like winning. Admittedly it has taken almost two decades to accept that my choices needed revamping. It is not too late. So for today I will try to win with love and kindness.

She smiled and I was lost

Andrea and I often pass each other walking through the house doing this thing or that. Every now and again she will return my smile with girlish grin somewhat shy. Those times I know that I have managed to stay in love these 19 years. Not just stay but grow. She is my all in all and I am complete. In that moment I have achieved every goal and become all that I ever wished to be.

"Somebody I used to know"

     Everyone at my house has been enamored with the pop song "Somebody I used to know" by Gotye. The song very accurately portrays some of the angst a breakup causes. What this song did that amazed me was to include those intense feelings from both sides. As he bellows out his pain that she is part of his past she reacts to the control and anger she felt from him. 

• Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
  Part of me believing it was always something that I'd done
  But I don't wanna live that way
  Reading into every word you say
  You said that you could let it go
  And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

      I don't know anyone who can not identify with some of the feelings in this song. I do know that when most people get to this point there is little left for them but to be "Somebody I used to know". What would it have taken for him to cherish her passion and spirit? What could she have done to help him be safe?
   
     One truth is that sometimes it is better just to move on and let it go.

     Another truth is that sometimes you can work together and move on together.

     We all have choices about who and what we want. Next time you see a couple, with gray hair and stooped backs walking together,  you can be sure at some point they felt this way. You don't get to be that cute old couple without putting in the time and effort. Any relationship can grow or die. It is up to those involved to decide.