The Relationship Game-Changer
Guest post by Dr. Vicki Connop on a how to diffuse conflict and increase intimacy
Today, I’m delighted to feature a guest post from Dr.Vicki Connop, clinical psychologist and the creator of The Therapy Room, a fortnightly newsletter offering reflections from therapy and life.
In this guest post, Vicki shares both personal and professional insights on navigating conflict in relationships.
Vicki is a UK-trained clinical psychologist currently living and practicing in Auckland, New Zealand. She is also a qualified yoga teacher and has a special interest in trauma therapy.
If you enjoy honest, compassionate writing on mental health, emotional wellbeing, trauma, relationships, and psychotherapy, I highly recommend subscribing to Vicki’s newsletter, The Therapy Room. Her words have a way of making you feel like you’ve found a safe space to reflect and grow.
Here we go—enjoy Vicki’s post below!
There are many things I appreciate about my partner, but this one may surprise you:
He tells me what I am getting wrong.
Of course, this is never a comfortable experience. It’s a rare person who enjoys hearing their rough edges reflected back to them. But I think it’s an important component of a healthy relationship. It’s how we hold one another to account, keep bringing our A-game, and make sure we don’t fall into bad habits and sloppy behaviour - the kind where we offer the best version of ourselves to the outside world and our partner gets the leftovers.
Mostly when he offers this feedback he does it with gentleness and humour. I squirm, I protest, and then eventually I concede that he may be right. And I respect him for it. He doesn’t let me get away with nagging, criticising, being bossy, or any of the other unhelpful relationship traps that I occasionally drift into.
And I do the same for him.
I’ve come to believe that how we navigate these moments is key.
There’s a simple Jedi move that can transform your relationships. Perhaps some of you already know this move, perhaps you grew up in families where this was the norm, but I think that’s unusual, and personally, it took me decades to learn it. It’s an ongoing work in progress.
Take a moment to consider some of the default ways you might respond when your loved one tells you they are annoyed with you, you got something wrong, or you are behaving in a way that’s not OK. You might immediately jump to defend yourself against the complaint, or counter-attack with a version of ‘What about what you did?’. You might try to distract or take the conversation in a different direction, withdraw, shut down, or even get snarky or belittling.
All of these responses close down communication and escalate conflict. They leave you feeling wounded and your partner feeling unheard and invalidated. They damage the fabric of the relationship. We often enter into a spiral of attack and counter-attack, or withdrawal and avoidance.
These responses activate the nervous system, and when our nervous systems are on alert, we only perceive threat. In these moments our capacity to listen has closed down, our focus becomes narrowed, and we lose our ability to see other perspectives.
It leads nowhere productive. The issue doesn’t get resolved and the two parties concerned become increasingly frustrated and alienated. Over time, these patterns corrode the quality of the relationship and may lead to its demise.
But there can be magic that happens when, instead of treading these well-worn paths, we meet the complaint or criticism with an acknowledgment. We take time to consider the feedback, recognise it may be valid, and own that there may have been some fault.
It’s a simple thing that can be revolutionary for your relationship.
Your partner gets to feel heard.
You get some useful and important feedback.
You get a chance to resolve what happened and course-correct, repair, or apologise if needed.
It deepens intimacy by generating honest and open communication.
It sounds straightforward, but to be able to pull off this move, you need to be able to do two things.
Firstly, to acknowledge that you’re imperfect.
And secondly, not collapse into a heap of shame and unworthiness about this.
You need to be willing to recognise yourself as a complex and messy human being who often gets things right and has many incredible qualities, and also sometimes gets things wrong and messes up.
You need to accept that messing up doesn’t make you a bad person, it makes you human, relatable, and just like everyone else.
You need to notice any shame that may be triggered, but hold it lightly.
You need to know that it’s safe to be imperfect and that you are still inherently lovable.
It helps too if you can say some version of ‘I’m sorry’, ‘Yes, I did that’, and ‘I’m going to try to change that’.
It helps to acknowledge the kernel of truth in the other’s position.
There’s an idea in dialectical philosophy that within any argument, there will be a kernel of truth in each position. It challenges our notions of black and white, right and wrong.
The challenge is, before jumping to disagreement or defence, can we find what’s accurate in the other person’s perception and validate this? Without needing to give up our position. Without collapsing into ‘You’re right, I’m wrong, and I must be a terrible person’.
Imagine if we could bring this approach, not just to intimate relationships, but to workplaces, politics, and global conflicts. If we were willing to hear and consider the other position and search for what might be valid in it.
It’s big-picture thinking.
When my partner comes to me and says ‘I was an idiot last night’, I instantly soften, my guard drops, and I feel my loving for the imperfect human in front of me who is trying their best. Tension dissolves, discussion can proceed, new ways forward can be found, and closeness returns.
It’s so simple and far less exhausting and demanding than the alternative.
For me, that is an important part of what makes someone trustworthy – knowing that they will tell me when something is not OK, that they are willing to hold me to account if I behave badly (yes, it happens, even to therapists), and they are willing to hear uncomfortable truths about themselves in return and hold those thoughtfully. This is the basis of a deeper layer of intimacy.
Oh, the relief at just admitting we messed up. And recognising we’re allowed to do that and still be lovable.
Reflections from Selda
The idea that relationships grow stronger when we can give and receive feedback without falling apart emotionally is such an important reminder. I’ve definitely been on both sides of this equation. Neither role is easy or comfortable, but both are necessary.
The part of Vicki’s piece that stuck with me most was the idea of looking for the “kernel of truth” in what someone is saying, even when it stings. When we’re called out, our first instinct is often to explain ourselves or point out how they’re wrong. But when we pause and really listen, we might realise they’re right about something, even if it’s just a small part of the bigger picture. It’s a relief to drop the defensiveness and simply own it.
Vicki reminds us that honest feedback is usually not about tearing us down—it’s about strengthening the relationship. It’s a call to connect. And when we can admit they might be right and we might be wrong, it creates space for connection rather than tension.
So, what if we all got a little better at saying, “You’re right, I didn’t handle that well,” or “Thanks for pointing that out. Tell me more”? It’s such a simple thing, but it takes practice, courage, and humility.
Thank you, Vicki, for this beautiful piece.
If you enjoyed Vicki’s post, feel free to leave a like—we’d love to hear your thoughts too!
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