Does keeping the peace actually work?

I saw this photo the other day on Facebook, and the message hit me like a brick. If you avoid conflict to keep the peace, then you start a war inside yourself. YES. Oh my god, that is so true for me. I wanted to see if others resonated with this particular message as much as I do, so I reposted it. A few people commented (but not as many as I would have expected, given how provoking it was for me). Someone responded, "And you often CREATE conflict in your other relationships where there wasn't any." Bam, so friggin' true.

So let's unpack this a little bit.

We'll start with the level of FAMILY.

When you grew up, what did you learn about conflict? Was it okay? How did people disagree? What happened when YOU had a different opinion from everyone else or something to say that wasn't "pleasant?" What are your expectations and norms for how people SHOULD treat conflict? What did you learn about your own needs and how much they mattered in the context of those around you?

I grew up in a family where conflict was avoided at all costs. The topics of discussion usually focused (and still do) on the weather, other people's health and what everyone did recently. If a discussion at dinner got heated in any way, let's say in one of the rare instances when someone brought up a divisive topic like politics, my mom would leave the table until things calmed down. No one brought up personal or sensitive topics. There was no room for disagreement, anger, or strong emotion of any kind. Things were calm and pleasant. So I learned that avoiding conflict was just the way it was done. Disagreements were pointless (someone would just leave, and the topic was never able to be explored in more depth or reach resolution). While a calm household is definitely not a bad thing, it did produce a war inside myself--a war over whether and when to speak up, how to interact appropriately without feeling like a social misfit whose voice was not heard and whose opinions didn't matter.

Then let's go to the level of PERSONALITY - the repetitive, measurable patterns of behavior you demonstrate.

Based on a combination of what we learned growing up (nurture) as well as our genetics (nature), we develop repetitive patterns of behavior that make us recognizable. Personality is a broad, widely-studied field, of which I can only scratch the surface. The way I access and talk about personality relates to the validated and reliable personality and behavior assessments that I use with teams at work, including Workplace Big 5 (based on the common Five-Factor Model of personality), DISC & Motivators, StrengthsFinder, and Personalysis. Each measures aspects of personality that, when taken by everyone on a team, provide common language to talk about interpersonal dynamics that would otherwise remain underground, causing misunderstandings and tension.

Most assessments use neutral language to suggest that there are different approaches to conflict, and none are bad, per se. For example, Workplace Big 5 measures the degree to which we defer to others ("Accommodation") on a continuum from "Challenger" (someone who regularly asks tough questions and thrives on debate) to "Adapter" (someone like me, who yields easily in an effort to keep the peace). I love that this tool doesn't judge any trait as good or bad, but rather explores the advantages and disadvantages of each. The advantages of being an Adapter include being able to see all sides of an argument, being empathetic, thoughtful and sensitive to the needs of others. The disadvantages include indecisiveness and a "going along" attitude, which may cause others to question where one stands (ahem).

What I find especially interesting is that when something is called out as a "personality trait," it suggests that this particular pattern of behavior has become so consistent that it is to be considered fixed--a way of being for the individual--and, dare I say, habituated and unconscious. And by calling it out on a personality assessment, one begins to identify (perhaps over-identify) with the label, thereby reinforcing the rigidity of the trait and limiting the possibility of behaving in a different way when the situation calls for it.

In addition, none of these instruments, prompted me to think more deeply about the internal risks of avoiding conflict. How the war inside myself beats its loud drum--"I should speak up more" or "I am not sure what to do, what do you think?" or "What will so and so think if I say no?" Which sounds a lot like fear.

So, let's look deeper at the EMOTIONS involved.

Think of this very relevant personal example: I am a facilitator, and I know myself well enough to know that I am at my best when I have some spaciousness in my schedule and I don't overbook myself with too many team sessions in a given week. This gives me plenty of prep and follow-up time, and allows me to be present, centered, and observant when I'm in the room with a team. Plus, I've gotten myself into trouble by taking on too much, scheduling up to six sessions in a week, and I'm aware that I get frantic and frenetic and go home utterly exhausted at the end of the day, leaving nothing left for my family. So, I made a commitment to myself that I wouldn't take on more than three sessions in a week.

Let's say that a high profile client asks me to facilitate an important 3-hour session on a day when I already have another session scheduled and my week is already packed. They emphasize that this is the only day they can get everyone together, and they need me and my insights to keep the team moving forward. This is an important inflection point, one that plays out for me over and over. Do I say yes and accommodate this important client? Let's explore what happens with each answer:

YES - Initially, saying "Sure, I can do that" is so automatic that it produces little internal friction because it validates my self-image of being helpful and valuable, dare I say worthy. I get to keep the peace, make the client happy, and feel important. And then I get so busy that I barely even notice the war, which shouts, "Oops, I did it again. I overdid it and I'm exhausted, why do I do this to myself? I don't even have time to prep for this high profile session. And I should be more available for my family, I suck." Meanwhile, I'm setting myself up to show up with frenetic, overextended energy, which causes me to be off my game and--get this--less valuable to the client. Which I then judge myself for. Hmmm.

NO - The idea of saying, "No" kicks up all kinds of anxiety for me--it would rock the emotional boat, so to speak--my own and the client's. I would risk disappointing the client, hearing what feels like a tidal wave of displeasure. I am afraid of being judged or criticized for not being helpful. The voice inside my head screams, "SELFISH!"

And boom, there it is, valuable vs. selfish. Without intentionally slowing down and checking myself, the emotional victory would go to valuable every time—thereby avoiding conflict with the client but starting a war within myself (my Self).

Which brings me to the level of SELF, based on what I've read--rather extensively for an amateur, by the way--on psychoanalytic theory and family systems theory

Family systems theory, introduced by Dr. Murray Bowen, suggests that individuals cannot be understood in isolation from one another, but rather as a part of an emotional unit (their family or later in life, any group or team of which they are part). Families (or groups/teams) are systems of interconnected and interdependent individuals, none of whom can be understood in isolation from the system (that is, their personality traits aren't fixed, but rather depend on how they function within the system--DUDE). The degree to which each individual's Self (their convictions, values, priorities, and principles) is differentiated from the system, the healthier the functioning of the individual (and the system).

When we avoid conflict to keep the peace, we are really disregarding our own priorities and convictions in favor of maintaining emotional equilibrium in a relationship or group. We make a feeling decision to avoid emotional disruption of a system. That is, we are so tuned into the thoughts and emotions of others ("They will think I'm selfish") that we fuse at an ego level with them, demonstrating an undifferentiated self.

When we are clear on our convictions and can tolerate an emotional cost to others (without being rigid or dogmatic), this demonstrates a high level of differentiation of self from others. It represents a strong, healthy ego, which is necessary for emotional (and physical) health.

This concept is utterly astonishing to me. I have put so much energy and focus into understanding and practicing emotional intelligence, and now I'm learning that empathy (and focusing on fixed personality traits, for that matter) may be exacerbating the program by reinforcing an undifferentiated self? Say what? Whereas making intentional decisions based on my beliefs, values and principles—while tolerating the emotional tidal wave that results in disrupting my part in an emotional system—will increase my self-differentiation and ultimately reduce the internal war? In a word, yes.

Alrighty then.

I hereby commit to increasing conflict. You know what I mean. I mean increasing my ability to withstand emotional waves in myself and others when I stand by my values and share my principles and convictions. My very Self depends on it.

Photo posted on Facebook by God is Love, @adventuresandanxiety