Conflict!!! Run!!!

My mother always told me that where there are people there are conflicts. I can’t quite tell if her saying is true, because I don’t work with lots of people. I write at home or spend time with my kids. I’m friendly with many but have a deep friendship with only a few. I am conflict-averse. A peace-maker.

In the past few years, however, conflict chased me. I got divorced, and though I worked hard to establish peace, my efforts only brought more strife. I began to wonder if avoiding conflict might not be the best idea in the long run.

Today I find myself again in the center of conflict. The details matter little. It’s the entire idea of conflict that I dislike. I am badly prepared to recognize disagreement. I take people’s words as they sound, rather than discerning facial expressions or gestures that would alert a more observant person than I. I have too much belief in being able to mollify, and am continually surprised when people aren’t. And feeling so unprepared, I wonder, could I learn how to have a fight?

Some years ago, a friend recommended a continuing studies class at Stanford called Interpersonal Communication. In the class, groups of twelve men and women met to discuss how people see each other, react to each other, how their methods of speaking work.

As normal for me, I was quiet in the class, rarely participating. One woman told me bluntly that I was a flake. I didn’t know what “flake” means and had to look it up. I did not engage in conflict with her over this accusation, nor did I talk much with anyone in the class. Except, I found a friend, an Iranian man as quiet as I, who I sometimes meet till today.

Perhaps I could learn in this lifetime how and when to engage in conflict. But maybe a better idea for me would be to embrace my peace-making nature. And yes, perhaps peace-making will irritate people and cause conflict, but if I remain true to myself and my good intentions, surely everything will eventually fall into place and come right?

In the book I’m reading by Alon Hilu, Nadav, the soldier, is on his way home for a weekend. At a bus stop he looks up at the sky and invites peace and love into his life. As he stands there, feeling his heart open and soar to the clouds, a heavy hand falls on his shoulder. It is the military police, and Nadav is fined 1000 shekels for shoes that are not clean enough.

The world is strange, is it not? A box of chocolates, and we never know what we’re going to get. I feel sad about this new conflict, but maybe in ten years I will look back and there’ll be some aspect of it that I can seize on and say: It was for the best, and now it’s done.

The Conflict Bunny

I suffer from an affliction called Conflict Aversion, also known as the Ostrich Syndrome, though I believe it’s been scientifically proven that ostriches don’t really bury their head in the sand. It is an inherited gene which I received directly from my mother, who in all likelihood inherited it from her mother as well. A conflict averse person like myself will do almost anything to avoid a conflict, allowing the other person to get away with a great deal.

The nice thing about being conflict averse is that since I never start (or continue) any arguments people tend to like to spend time with me. I’m very non-threatening, you see. The bad thing about being conflict averse is that I hardly never stand up for myself. My favorite combination of words is: “Let it go. It’s not worth it.” They’re also my least favorite words.

I live uneasily with this condition. Part of me wishes to be able to stand up for myself, for the kids, or for something I believe in. Sometimes I can feel the words I’d like to say jammed in my throat like a garrulous plug. For a moment I allow myself to wonder what would happen if I got it unplugged, but no. Better not take the chance. Instead I say to myself, “Let it go. It’s not worth it.” And somehow I make the need to speak crumble, disappear, fly with the wind of no-mind. I’ve grown good at forgiving other people, but I always wonder if each of these moments of letting go doesn’t leave a bad taste of not forgiving myself behind.

I wonder if there is a Conflict Aversion Anonymous group somewhere with a twelve-step program to overcome this fear of The Fight. Step one could be “Stare conflict in the face for five seconds before blinking.” Step two might be, “Write down all the sentences you wish you’d said to that lady with the overflowing grocery cart who pushed ahead of you in the checkout line.” I mean, seriously, that would be a beginning!

If only I could come to terms with how I am and accept myself this way, forgive myself for these perceived infractions against my -- against what, really? My honor? Dignity? No one complains about the deer running from the mountain lion, the deer least of all. Protecting oneself by escaping is perfectly acceptable for a deer. So why is it I feel that my personal boundaries are at risk of invasion because I avoid arguments? Am I making a big fuss over nothing? Keeping score against myself for a personality trait which is really perfectly fine?

I can’t say that I have an answer for any of these questions. Perhaps this is an issue I’ll struggle with till the day I die. Or maybe, in an effort to accept myself as I am, I’ll let go of the fear that being conflict averse equals passive aggressiveness and decide: me, I’m just nice.

I found a really cool blog post about lawyers and aversion to conflict. Check it out.