I’ve recently begun to understand something about myself that feels uncomfortable to admit: I need closures for every conflict.

Even the smallest disagreements sit with me longer than they should. Some people can walk away without a second thought, but I carry unresolved moments like quiet burdens. I replay them, analyze them, and somehow they take up more space than all the good interactions combined.

What troubles me is how my mind highlights conflict so sharply. I could have a hundred positive moments with someone, yet it is the disagreements that rise to the surface. Maybe it’s because discomfort stays in our memory longer, or maybe I simply overthink situations that I can’t neatly put away.

Today, during my therapy session, I opened up about this. I told my therapist that I get triggered at times and that I still cannot recognize a clear pattern. I asked her, “How can I know when I’m about to get triggered, and how do I stop it?”

There wasn’t a simple or direct answer. But as we talked, something meaningful started to take shape.

If I already know I’m a person who gets triggered, then perhaps the first step is to walk into every interaction with that awareness. Not with fear, but with a conscious intention. A gentle reminder to myself that I don’t always have to react.

Sometimes it feels like I have buttons all over me that anyone can press as they wish. Maybe I can cushion those buttons by preparing myself to stay grounded before the interaction even begins.

We also realized something surprisingly hopeful. If I make a conscious effort to listen with the intention of taking just one good thing from each conversation, the entire dynamic could change. Listening then becomes an anchor. It becomes a way to stay open without being overwhelmed. It reassures me that I don’t have to talk to prove anything and that silence doesn’t mean I am losing anything. In fact, often I lose more when I respond too quickly or emotionally.

But this reflection also brings up a troubling question. Do people become silent not because they are calm, but because speaking feels risky? Do we hold back even when we disagree simply to avoid yet another conflict or debate?

I don’t know the answer, but I am beginning to see that conflict itself is not something that can be completely eliminated or neatly resolved. It is something to understand, something to observe, and something that often teaches us more about ourselves than about the other person.

Maybe real resolution doesn’t always happen externally. Maybe it begins quietly within us, in the way we choose to listen, respond, and prepare our hearts for connection.