When I'm upset, I get verbal diarrhea. I feel the deep burning desire to over explain the situation so no doubt can be left about my intentions, feelings or perspective. I want to make sure I'm heard and understood. It is often too late that I slow down and listen to the other person. By then my assumptions have been made, opinion formed and stance declared. Often, too late, I realize I was wrong or out of line.
I love to be right. Who doesn't? I'm a fairly intelligent person who annoyingly loves to assert her knowledge on others. Unfortunately, life is a constant string of events where one is either right or wrong. One cannot always be right, just as one cannot always be wrong. However, one can be a stubborn pain the ass 100% of the time. That would be me.
Only recently have I started to swallow my pride and say the treasured words, "I'm sorry. I was wrong." Whether the other party accepts (or acknowledges) my apology or not is another topic but in apologizing, I have won the battle against my ego. That, my friends, is huge.
While my style of fighting has evolved quite a bit in the past ten years or so, I still have a ways to go. I no longer yell or slam doors. I'm cutting back on the sarcasm (a true struggle) and I try really, really hard not to name call. Sometimes I slip up and that's okay. But I need to focus on being more sensitive to the situation at hand. At the risk of sounding cliche, I don't need to show up to every fight I'm invited to, even if I am right. I also need to provide every situation the fair chance to not be a fight to begin with by avoiding assumptions.
I should have learned this by now and unfortunately, a recent event has reminded me that I haven't. I'm still growing up into the adult I want to be and that doesn't include hurting my friends and family. One step at a time, I'll get there. I promise.