Relationship Repair: What If You Went First?
I had a small misunderstanding recently with someone I'm seeing.
We had talked about getting together later that evening. He wasn't sure what time he'd be finished with what he was doing, so he said he'd keep me posted.
Hours went by without a word. It was getting late, and I assumed our plans had fallen through, so I went ahead with my evening.
Then I got a message: "I'm on my way."
Except I wasn't home.
It turned out we had understood our conversation differently. He thought we had plans and that he'd come over when he was finished. I understood "I'll keep you posted" to mean that we'd confirm before making a definite plan. When I didn't hear from him, I assumed it wasn't happening.
Neither of us had done anything terrible. It was a simple misunderstanding, the kind that happens all the time in relationships.
But afterward, I found myself thinking about my part in what had happened.
I realized that instead of assuming he wasn't coming, I could have reached out and asked, "Hey, are we still on for tonight?"
So the next day, rather than waiting to see whether he was upset or whether he'd bring it up, I initiated a conversation.
I told him I was sorry we'd missed each other. I acknowledged that, in hindsight, I could have checked in rather than making an assumption. I explained what had happened on my side, and I invited him to tell me how the experience had been for him.
What If We Didn't Wait for the Other Person to Bring It Up?
We often imagine repair beginning with the person who was hurt. They tell us something didn't feel good, that we disappointed them, or that something we did caused pain. And then, hopefully, we listen, take responsibility, and find a way back to each other.
But what if we didn't always wait for the other person to bring it up?
What if, when we recognize that we may have contributed to a rupture, we take the initiative to repair it?
There's something vulnerable about telling another person that they've hurt us. We don't know whether they'll listen, become defensive, minimize our experience, or tell us why we're wrong to feel the way we do.
And sometimes, when we're the ones who contributed to the hurt, we can spare the other person some of that uncertainty by reaching toward them first.
That doesn't mean taking responsibility for everything that happened, assuming we know how they feel, or apologizing for things we didn't do.
It means being willing to acknowledge our part and making room for their experience.
We might say something like:
"I've been thinking about what happened between us. I can see how I contributed to it, and I'd really like to know how it was for you."
Imagine what it might feel like to be on the receiving end of that invitation.
Instead of having to gather the courage to bring up something uncomfortable, you discover that the other person has already been reflecting on what happened. They're not waiting for you to make a case for why you were hurt. They're showing you that they care about the impact of their actions and that they're willing to have a potentially uncomfortable conversation.
Of course, initiating repair doesn't guarantee that the other person will be ready or willing to engage. But it can create an opening that might not otherwise have existed.
How Emotional Safety Gets Built
I think that's one of the ways emotional safety gets built in relationships.
Not because we never misunderstand each other or disappoint each other, but because we learn that when something goes wrong, we don't have to carry the responsibility for finding our way back alone.
Sometimes we can be the ones to go first.
I'm curious: Have you ever had someone initiate a repair with you before you even had to ask? What was that like for you?
Want to Learn How to Navigate Conflict and Repair?
Join Lara Lark and me for The Art of Fighting Well, a live, experiential online workshop on Sunday, December 13, from 11 AM–1 PM ET.
We'll explore how to navigate conflict in ways that deepen trust and connection, and practice ways to find our way back to each other when things go wrong.
The workshop is open to individuals and couples, and space is limited to 12 participants.