The Repair

My ex and I had exactly one fight. I'd left a dinner with his friends abruptly, and the next day, instead of asking if I was okay, he critiqued my behavior. I was furious. My anger was justified. How I delivered it was not kind. The day after I yelled at him, I wanted to pull back. I'd already made a polite apology and figured that covered it; pulling back felt like the kind, careful thing to do next. I told him so.

He said, "Don't pull back. That will hurt even more."

That sentence pulled me out of my head and back into my body. My first apology had been real enough, but I hadn't felt, at an emotional level, how much I'd hurt him until he said that. So I tried again — this time naming what he'd actually been feeling, and what I felt having caused it. Sorrow, mostly. When he seemed to feel understood, we kept going: I got to tell him how sensitive I am to criticism, and he got to know that part of me.

I'd heard of this conversation, but repairs have been elusive for me. Frankly, the people I have been close to were not mature enough to have them.

I'm coming to think hurting each other is inevitable. What isn't inevitable is whether you repair afterward. It feels a great deal better than pulling back, for everybody.