I grew up in a family that had a hard time with feelings. We loved each other, and we told ourselves that it was unconditional, but we rarely dealt with the difficult stuff together. I walked a fine line trying to avoid conflict between my mother’s hyper-sensitivity and my father’s temper. Most arguments resulted in my mom’s tears and my dad’s screaming; both of which made me feel terrible. In addition, I was socialized as a female; I was taught in a number of subtle and not so subtle ways that I was to be a peacekeeper. Being a girl meant being polite, smiling and nodding even if inside I was feeling hurt, marginalized or offended. I learned early on that it was easier to avoid confrontation, it was less messy and often times safer. I told myself that if someone was mistreating me, they were obviously going through their own personal struggle and taking it out on me. I told myself that I was strong enough to survive it and that it wasn’t affecting me.

This past year has been a time of change for me: I quit my job, I packed up my life and I moved 2500 kilometers from home. I’ve had a chance to rebuild and it has forced me to confront patterns that have reappeared throughout my life. Over the past couple of months, I have traced a lot of negative patterns back to my ways of dealing with conflict, or more accurately, my ways of not dealing with conflict. All of this changed a few weeks ago when I attended a workshop designed to work on conflict resolution skills. This workshop had a profound impact on me, it was the first time I saw conflict as a way of actually getting closer to someone. Conflict is an exercise in trust and vulnerability. I always associated conflict with an ending, like if I showed someone my feelings, insecurities or frustrations, they would throw their arms in the air and bail. I am realizing now how unfortunate that is; I never gave people the opportunity to really see me, to really know me.

Since the workshop, I have been trying to change my habits and embrace my new philosophy. I have reached out and had some really difficult conversations, some have been met with hostility and others have been tenderness and love. The thing is, I see all of these as positive steps forward. I am starting to realize that part of the reason that conflict is actually necessary is because it can act as a litmus test for figuring out who is truly a part of my support system and who is simply a fair-weather friend. It is a way to show someone the real me, my baggage and my wounds, and seeing whether or not I can count on them when things get tough. I don’t need any more relationships that are based on me expecting little and saying even less. And here’s the thing: the more I vocalize what I need in order to feel safe in a relationship, the more I am starting to believe that I deserve it. So, here’s to 2015, may it be a year of friction, of honesty and of growth.

Featured Image: Winter Dawn Tree Silhouette by Carol Leigh