Category: Communicating (Page 1 of 2)

Do you feel understood?

Money: When Self-Worth Is on the Line

Nice watch!

If you’ve ever had a “money fight” with your partner, chances are you weren’t really fighting about the money.

Sure, it might look like a debate over a purchase, a budget, or a bank account — but beneath the surface, money often stands in for something bigger and messier. This Fighting About Money series looks under the hood — uncovering the real emotional fuel driving financial arguments.

The meaning of money
Gender and the household budget
Self-worth (this post)
Power, trust, and control (coming up)
Illusions of independence (coming up)
Conflict prevention and planning (coming up)

Why We Spend the Way We Spend

Sometimes a purchase is just a purchase — a new pair of shoes, a bigger TV, a dinner out.

But just as often, it’s not about the thing itself. It’s about what the thing means to us:

A pair of shoes that says, Look at me!
A TV so big it says, I deserve to feel like I’m at the game!
A fancy dinner out that says, We’re celebrating, woo-hoo!

These aren’t bad impulses; they’re human ones. The trouble comes when the special meaning we gave an item — knowingly or not — runs headlong into our partner’s reaction.

How Shame Gets Pulled Into the Room

When you buy something to validate yourself — the watch, the purse, the car, the splurge dinner — you want your partner to celebrate it with you.

Instead, you hear:

“Do we really need that?”
“That’s too much money.”

In an instant, what felt like fun (and maybe self-care) can turn into self-doubt and resentment. The good feelings are replaced by shame or defensiveness — not because of the item itself, but because your partner has (perhaps unintentionally) invalidated what it meant to you.

The Emotional Math Behind Money

We like to believe our spending decisions are logical.

Mostly, they’re not.

Even in business, after the spreadsheets and scorecards, final decisions often come down to an emotion-based choice between similar options. The difference? At work, your spouse isn’t standing there with a raised eyebrow.

In a relationship, every purchase lives inside a shared emotional space. That space might be:

Open and trusting – where curiosity outweighs criticism.
Tense and mistrustful – where each purchase feels like a test.
A mix of both – like the famous box of chocolates: you never know what you’re going to get.

The Role of Upbringing

Our money habits didn’t start with our current partner. Early messages from family, culture, and past relationships shape how we spend — and how we react to our partner’s spending.

If your childhood taught you that spending is indulgent or unsafe, you may hear judgment even when none is intended.
- If you grew up so resource-strapped you were begging neighbors to pick their weeds so your mom could cook them for dinner, spending might always carry a faint sense of danger, even in good times.
If you grew up equating spending with success, being questioned can feel like being told you’re not successful enough.
If you grew up with wealth and privilege, you may see spending as natural and unremarkable — which can clash with a partner who treats every dollar as a decision.

Those early experiences don’t disappear when we become adults. They ride along with us — and sometimes, they’re the ones really doing the talking in a money fight.

Practical Takeaways

Name the need – Ask yourself: Am I buying this to meet a practical need or an emotional one? Focus not just on what you buy, but why you buy it — and consider whether that “why” is influenced by your early money experiences.
Set “no-discussion” thresholds – Agree that purchases under $X don’t require consultation.
Separate autonomy from secrecy – Personal spending freedom doesn’t have to mean financial blind spots.
Use a values-based budget – Align your spending plan with what matters most to both of you.

Ask This Before Your Next “Money Fight”

Is this actually about money? Are we talking about rent money — or resentment money?
Is this a values clash? Are we disagreeing about what matters, or about the price tag?
Am I buying this to feel worthy? If so, is there a healthier way to meet that need?

Bottom Line

If you’re fighting over a $75 purse when the bills are paid, the fight probably isn’t about the purse. But if the account is empty and someone buys the latest gadget, it may be an attempt to fill a self-worth gap that money can’t actually fill.

Talking openly — even about the shame stuff — can help you both see what’s really at stake. Because if you only ever talk about the dollars, you risk missing the truth hiding underneath.

The Elephant in the Wallet

Shhhh… We Don’t Talk About Money!

We need to talk about money.
Which is awkward, because most of us were taught not to.

It’s a little strange, isn’t it? We spend so much time thinking about money, worrying about it, trying to stretch it. We tell ourselves it’s not what matters most. That it doesn’t define us. Meanwhile, we casually refer to rich people as having a “high net worth.”

Truth is, money touches nearly every part of our lives—identity, security, autonomy, trust, power, love, and sometimes even lust.
But talking about it? That’s where we draw the line.

Ask someone about their income, credit card debt, or whether they can actually afford that trip to Italy, and you’ve committed a social sin. It’s “none of your business.” And that silence? That’s no way to build a shared financial life.

How Did We Get Here?

Our discomfort didn’t start with budgeting apps or forgotten Venmo requests. It started much earlier.

Maybe your parents tried to protect you by keeping money stress a secret. Or maybe you asked how much something cost and got scolded for being “nosy.” Maybe Aunt Bea and Uncle Arthur got dragged in whispered tones at Thanksgiving for living beyond their means.
Growing up in that kind of environment, you may have learned that money is sacred, private, off-limits—something to worry about, but never discuss.

Money comes with baggage. The family-sized kind. And enough cultural taboo to sink the Titanic—again.

So we avoid the topic. We split responsibilities, keep our accounts separate, and try not to rock the boat. We’re pretending to be 100% partners while acting like money doesn’t impact our relationship.

But here’s the thing: you are already communicating with your partner about money—whether you talk about it or not.

What That Blender Really Means

That $125 blender? In one family, it’s a thoughtful upgrade. In another, it’s a reckless impulse buy. Same object. Completely different meanings.

And here’s the real kicker: those meanings usually go unspoken. We don’t talk about the spending until the rent is past due or the check bounces. So the only time we do talk about money is when we’re already stressed about it. Not exactly a recipe for healthy communication.

You Don’t Have to Wing It

If love is supposed to conquer all, why does it struggle so hard when it comes to money?

Because money isn’t just numbers and budgets. It’s history. It’s identity. It’s power, trust, and emotional safety. It’s the story we’ve lived—and the one we’re still writing together.

Over the next few posts, we’ll unpack why money is such a loaded topic—and how to make those conversations easier, more connected, and a little less terrifying.

Because while love can conquer a lot, it doesn’t pay the bills (#FlyingLizards). And besides—it shouldn’t have to.

You don’t need a spreadsheet.
You need a brave conversation.

Money fight? Math’s Not the Problem

The Stereotype Showdown

You’ve probably heard it—or maybe even said it:
“She just loves to splurge.”
Or maybe:
“He’s such a tightwad.”

But what if arguments about money aren’t really about money at all—but about power, priorities, and feeling seen?

A friend recently suggested that women overspend while men think more economically. It’s a common belief—but is it true? And even more importantly: is that really the problem?

What the Data Says

Spoiler: it’s not about handbags vs. hardware.

Yes, men and women spend differently. But here’s what that actually means:

Women tend to spend more on household goods, children, groceries, and caregiving—often because they do more of the caregiving.
Men tend to spend more on big-ticket items like electronics, sporting events, and automobiles. Spoiler alert: a kayak, a new phone, and playoff tickets will run you a bit more than some candles and concealer.

Now here’s where it gets good:

Men are more likely to stay within a budget.
Women are more likely to set the budget in the first place.

So the guy sticking to the budget? Often working off her spreadsheet.

And yes, women go over budget more frequently—but often because they’re shouldering more of the single-parenting, elder care, and daily survival costs. Their spending isn’t about impulse. It’s about responsibility.

In short: it’s complicated. (Click here for the long version.)

Arguments about money are rarely about who bought what, for how much. They’re about who gets to decide what matters.

Two Options

Before you judge your partner’s purchases, understand what they’re actually buying.

A new outfit might be about self-worth.
That new game console might be about freedom, escapism—or maybe even avoidance.
The fifth kitchen gadget? Could be about trying to get it all done when there aren’t enough hours in the day.
The fancy candle? Maybe it’s about peace in a house full of chaos.

The spend is never the full story.

If you’re worried about how your partner spends, here are two options:

Set up a budget with separate “fun money”

Create a shared household fund for essentials, and individual monthly “no-questions-asked” spending accounts.
If he wants a fur-lined bathtub, that’s his call.
If she wants an electric dog tooth polisher, that’s hers.
(Yes, those are real things. We Googled.)
Celebrate the diversity of your choices—and make sure the dog’s teeth aren’t polishing the bathtub.

Be curious. Not critical.

Don’t ask, “Why did you buy that?” Instead, be curious. Explore:
“What’s important to you about this?”
“What were you hoping to feel?”
Your partner isn’t the enemy, and you’re not a prosecutorial version of Judge Judy with a joint checking account.
Your partner’s spending reflects who they are—and guess what? You picked ’em. So put down the gavel and use the moment to learn a little bit more about your partner..
Once you’re able to appreciate them for who they are, it’ll also make it a lot easier for them to understand why you spent $12,000 on that hallway portrait that “just spoke to you.”

Bottom line:
If the fight about spending is actually a fight about feeling seen, no spreadsheet is going to save you.

6 Things You Have to Do If You’re in a Polyamorous Relationship

Polyamory isn’t a free-for-all. It runs on honesty, emotional intelligence, and calendars. When it works, it’s expansive, connective, and healing. When it breaks down, it’s usually because someone skipped one of these:

Communicate Until It’s Boring

More people = more chances for misalignment. “Good communication” doesn’t just mean talking a lot — it means being assertive (even when it’s hard) and attuned (especially when it’s hard). That means sharing what’s real for you — whether you’re in love, in lust, or in pain — and tuning in to your partners’ feelings, not just their words.

Define What Counts as Cheating

Open ≠ poly ≠ monogamish. One partner might think hooking up with someone new is no big deal — the other might call it betrayal. Just because you’re non-monogamous doesn’t mean you’re on the same page. Spell out what’s in bounds, what’s out, and what happens if someone crosses the line.
And be specific: for some, sex without emotional connection is fine — but emotional intimacy with someone else might feel like a breach. Others are the opposite. Clarify it. Early and often.

Own Your Jealousy Without Blame

Jealousy isn’t a flaw — it’s information. It might signal a need for reassurance, a broken agreement, or an old wound asking for care. Don’t shame it. Don’t weaponize it. Instead, get curious: What story is being told? What story is being heard?
Handled with honesty and explored with curiosity, jealousy can bring the kind of clarity, communication, and closeness that make relationships better.

Bow to the Calendar Gods

Yes, everyone has a calendar — but in poly, your calendar becomes a living, breathing statement of values. Time is one of the clearest ways we express love, prioritize connection, and build trust. If you’re not thoughtful about how time is shared, someone’s going to feel like leftovers. Scheduling also protects solo time, prevents burnout, and avoids last-minute emotional landmines. Good calendaring isn’t overkill — it’s part of how consent and consideration show up in daily life.

Do Your Inner Work

Poly can bring up your “stuff”: insecurity, fear of abandonment, people-pleasing, control. Even if you think you’re immune, you’re probably not. If you don’t tend to your emotional backpack, you’ll end up handing it to someone else — probably a partner you care about. Do your work. Therapy helps. Journaling helps. Honest conversations with yourself help. Don’t outsource your healing to the people you’re dating.

Power Without Awareness Is Just Pressure

Whether or not you’re into kink, polyamory often echoes power dynamics — who initiates, who decides, who leads. Too often, one partner (usually the more experienced or confident one) sets the pace while another quietly tries to keep up. Especially in D/s or top/bottom dynamics, this can get messy fast. Just because someone says yes doesn’t mean they’re not overextending themselves to stay close.
If your desire feels like a freight train, check who’s on the tracks. A “yes” is good — but an enthusiastic, informed yes with real buy-in? That’s where the magic happens.

Want your poly relationships to thrive?

Then go beyond rules and roles. Speak up. Listen close. Let communication and calendars build trust. Define your lines — and respect them. Let jealousy teach you something useful. Do your own work so your partners don’t have to carry it.

And if you’re holding power, use it with care. Because the point isn’t just freedom.
It’s depth. It’s joy. It’s connection — chosen, earned, and real.

Unlearning How to Fight

You Know How to Fight.
You Know How to Win.

So why does it feel like losing?

Everybody calm down!

If you’re tired of fighting with your partner and feeling worse afterward—this post is for you.

We’ve all learned how to fight.
No, I don’t mean Krav Maga. Not karate. And not food fights à la Animal House.

I’m talking about the relationship stuff—the tried-and-true guerrilla (and open warfare) tactics we picked up growing up.

You probably absorbed your first conflict style without even knowing it—sitting at the dinner table as a kid, listening to adults slam doors, simmer in silence, or ramble about problems no one even remembered two hours later.

Maybe in your house, no one raised their voice—but no one talked about anything real, either.
Maybe “winning” meant controlling the narrative.
Maybe it meant disappearing.

However it looked, it became the foundation for your playbook.
And whether you were the loud one, the wallflower, or the peacemaker, chances are good you’re still using a version of that playbook today.

The Problem:
Those “Skills” Don’t Work When Both People Matter.

They may have helped you survive childhood—but they don’t help you build a loving, caring relationship.

Here’s how they fail:

If you fight to win, the relationship loses.
If you avoid all conflict, nothing ever gets resolved.
If you stay silent to keep the peace, your resentment will find its way out eventually—probably sideways.

So: what does work?

Let’s reframe what conflict actually brings us.

Conflict Isn’t a Battle to Win.
It’s an Invitation to Understand.

Yeah, I know—easier said than done.

But if you can move from me vs. you to us vs. the problem, something shifts.
Curiosity opens up.
Defensiveness starts to drop.
You stop keeping score and start asking better questions.

Like:

What’s actually bothering you?
What’s underneath the anger?
What are we each afraid of losing?
What needs aren’t being met?
What are we really arguing about?

The “fight” becomes a conversation.

We decide that the commitment to the relationship is more important than being right.
We remove ourselves from the roles of judge and prosecutor, and sit with our partner with openness, concern, and just enough bravery to stay in it.

It makes the relationship stronger, not weaker.
It creates safety.
It creates space for authenticity and intimacy.

The Truth About “Healthy” Couples

Some people think that happy couples never argue.
That’s a myth.

Put two humans under the same roof long enough, and sparks will fly.
Conflict isn’t the problem—unspoken conflict is.
Or worse: conflict that goes unresolved, festers, and turns into contempt.

Here’s the real secret: conflict can be a gift.

A chance to learn more about your partner.
A chance to practice honesty.
A chance to grow closer—not further apart.

The Next Time You Argue…

Treat it like a signal, not a threat. Ask yourself:

What am I really feeling?
What is my partner trying to show me?
How can we both walk away from this feeling more connected—not less?

And hey, maybe wait ’til morning.

Have some coffee. Or tea. Or a croissant the size of your face.
Start the day with kindness.
Then roll up your sleeves and get to work—together.

Because in the end:

The goal isn’t to win the fight. It’s to make sure there’s still someone holding you close when it’s over.

Multigenerational Trauma: The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Trauma doesn’t just live in memories. It lives in nervous systems, in relationship patterns, in how we show up—or shut down—with the people we love.

Trauma is passed down generation after generation. More than a personal wound, it becomes culture. Family legacy. Emotional DNA.

For anyone with a trauma history, the story that follows may feel familiar.

Meet Alex

Alex is in the midst of yet another breakup.

Despite having a kind heart and good intentions, he’s found himself unable to sustain relationships. He’s been married multiple times, and each time, the pattern repeats: initial closeness, then growing distance, misunderstandings, and eventually—separation.

Now, he finds himself distant not only from his former partners but also from his children, unsure how to bridge the gap. And, thanks to his low self-worth and fear of vulnerability, unwilling to try.

But wait—what trauma?

Alex doesn’t consider himself to be a trauma victim. But trauma doesn’t always show up as a single, dramatic event. Sometimes it’s the slow drip of emotional neglect. Sometimes it’s growing up in a household where feelings weren’t safe, or where connection was inconsistent. Sometimes, it’s what happens when well intentioned parents aren’t able to “be there” for their children.
Often, we don’t even realize we’ve been impacted—because what we experienced was “normal” — to us.

But our nervous systems remember.
And so do our relationships.

This Didn’t Start With Alex

His patterns aren’t mysteries. They’re the natural consequence of an emotional lineage that began long before he was born.

Alex didn’t land in this moment by accident.

His parents did their best.
But their best was shaped by what they survived—not by what they healed.

A Father Who Disappeared in Place

His father was physically present but emotionally absent.
Approval was rare. “I love you” never came.
What he offered instead were long evenings of television, obsessions with sports, and alcohol-fueled silence.
When life hurt, he numbed.

A Mother Who Equated Vulnerability with Danger

Alex’s mother praised performance.
She worked hard to keep him safe—but emotional safety was not part of the package.
She’d been raised in a world where vulnerability invited attack, and poverty meant hunger. Her survival depended on staying in control.

What Got Passed Down

So she passed on her survival strategy:

Stay in line.
Achieve.
Stay safe.
Don’t feel too much.
Don’t need too much.

And love? Love is something you earn. Over and over again.

What Alex Learned

He learned that:

Closeness isn’t safe
Vulnerability opens the door to abandonment or judgment
Affection is conditional—and approval fleeting

These lessons didn’t come in lectures.
They came in the silences.
In the way emotions were handled—or not handled—at home.

What Alex carries today isn’t his fault. It’s emotional inheritance.

The Part Most People Don’t Know

Most of what drives Alex’s adult behaviors was set long before he could even form memories.
The emotional system that governs attachment, fear, and connection is shaped in the earliest years of life—before the thinking brain is fully online.

The prefrontal cortex, which helps with self-awareness and decision-making, doesn’t even begin to mature until around age 7. Before that? The amygdala is in charge. That’s the part of the brain responsible for threat detection, emotional memory, and survival responses.

In other words: Alex’s shutdown response may have been shaped before he ever spoke a full sentence.
And because memory is language-based, it’s not unusual that he doesn’t remember why he reacts the way he does. The imprint is real—it’s just preverbal.

Patterns in the Present

AKA: The Closer He Gets, The More He Shuts Down

Like most of us, Alex wants intimacy.
But the closer he gets to it, the more his emotional inheritance kicks in—and quietly sabotages everything.

He doesn’t panic when someone gets too close.
He shuts down.
Subtly. Quietly. Completely.

And not just during conflict.
Even joy, tenderness, and peace feel unsafe.
His nervous system reads them as threats.

Those moments of emotional openness trigger something deep inside him: This is dangerous.

Doing Instead of Feeling

So, he throws himself into tasks.
He fixes things. He performs.
He shows love through doing—through devotion, duty, and responsibility.

It looks like connection.
It looks like love.
But it’s not intimacy.
It’s avoidance wearing a responsible man’s clothes.

The Cost of Overfunctioning

All that doing?
It leads to exhaustion, not closeness.
Exhaustion leads to resentment.
Resentment leads to shutdown.

His partner doesn’t understand what changed. But for Alex, nothing changed. This is just how it goes.

Never Enough, No Matter What He Does

He presses on, convinced that if he just does more, he’ll finally be good enough.
But no matter how much he gives, it never fills the void.
Because somewhere deep inside, Alex doesn’t believe he deserves love.

The Missing Skill: Boundaries

And nowhere along the way did anyone teach him how to set healthy boundaries.
Not with others.
Not with himself.
He’s not selfish.
He’s unpracticed.

And So the Cycle Continues

He does too much.
He burns out.
He withdraws.
His partner finally has enough—and leaves.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

These aren’t character flaws.
They’re survival strategies dressed up as personality traits.
They helped him once.
Now, they’re hurting the people he loves—and leaving him alone.

Zooming Out: Trauma’s Hidden Repetition

Alex’s story is specific—but not unique.
Many people with multigenerational trauma carry similar burdens into their relationships, shaped by:

Emotional suppression
Hypervigilance
Conflict avoidance or aggression
Fear of vulnerability
Distrust of closeness
Difficulty naming or asking for what they need
Low self-esteem

They may:

Express love through over-functioning and perfectionism
Shut down emotionally when things get “too good”
Repeat push-pull conflict patterns
Struggle with boundaries
Live with a sense of always being “too much” or “not enough”

These are not failures of character. They’re inherited survival strategies. But left unexamined, they don’t protect intimacy—they poison it.

Breaking the Cycle

This cycle isn’t passed down out of malice.
It’s passed down because it’s invisible.
Because it’s what we know.
Because it’s what we adapted to in order to survive.

Most of us aren’t aware of the impact our trauma has on how we love. We’re no more aware of it than we are of the air we breathe.

But just like breath, awareness changes everything.

The Power of Awareness

Mindfulness helps us notice when we’re holding our breath.
In the same way, it helps us notice when we’re repeating patterns that hurt us.

Awareness gives us space.
Space gives us choice.
And that’s how cycles break—not all at once, but one moment at a time.

Tiny Moments of Change

One moment of saying, “I’m shutting down—and I don’t want to.”
One moment of asking, “What do I actually need right now?”
One moment of setting a boundary, even when it feels terrifying
One moment of choosing to stay, to speak, to soften

Healing doesn’t erase the past. But it interrupts the transmission. It says: This pain stops with me.

Hope Is Contagious, Too

Just like trauma, healing is contagious.
When you show up differently in your relationships, others feel it.
When you name your needs and listen without armor, your children feel it.
When you model repair, softness, and vulnerability—people absorb it.

The most powerful legacy you can leave isn’t perfection. It’s awareness.

It’s the courage to face what you were never taught to face.

That’s how we stop handing trauma to the next generation.
That’s how we start handing down something better.

When Was the Last Time You Went on a Date?

Let’s be honest.

You love your partner, but between late meetings, early mornings, three kinds of laundry, and scrolling the void at bedtime… date night has quietly entered the Witness Protection Program.

Maybe you’re not avoiding each other.
Maybe you’re just… doing life.

But here’s the catch:
Connection isn’t self-sustaining.
It doesn’t refill overnight like your phone.
You don’t “earn it” once and coast.

And here’s the deeper truth:
Emotional intimacy isn’t self-sustaining either.
It’s not a given. It’s not guaranteed.
It’s a garden.

When you tend to it—check in, flirt, laugh, touch—it rewards you with something vibrant and alive.
It surprises you. It grows on its own.
It brings beauty, joy, and yes—sex. The kind that feels connected, generous, and real.

But leave it untended?
Neglect the care, stop showing up?
It doesn’t die dramatically. It just fades. Dries up. Weeds grow where blooms once bloomed.
Eventually, no one remembers what it used to look like.

There’s a story about a couple who put a bean in a jar every time they had sex during the first year of their relationship. They nearly filled it.
The second year, they started taking a bean out after each time.
It took years to empty that jar.

It’s not really a story about sex.
It’s a story about what stops growing when no one’s paying attention.
About how two loving partners become polite roommates with shared expenses.

So… Why Bother With Dates?

Because carving out the time and energy to date your partner is how you say:
“You’re not just part of my routine. You’re still my favorite person.”

It’s not about candlelight and overpriced scallops (though hey, live your truth).
It’s about connection—no phones, no dishes, no updates about the HVAC.

We talk about the importance of “me time.” But dates? Dates are us time.
That means truly seeing and being seen.
And you can’t get there talking only about work, the kids, or who forgot to defrost the chicken.

A date is when you stop managing all the things and remember who you are together—and experience who you’re becoming.

But Who Has Time for This?

Honestly? No one.

Think of it like car maintenance. Nobody wants to spend time and money on it.
But those who do avoid breakdowns—and get a smoother and more enjoyable ride.

So don’t wait until your lover becomes just your best friend to ask,
“When was the last time we talked about anything but logistics?”

Make it easy:
• Coffee on the porch
• A kitchen dance party
• Ten minutes with eye contact and no damn screens

Whatever your version of connection is—do that.

To Date or Not to Date?

Yes. Date.
If you’re tired, find a way to renew. Doesn’t your partner deserve your best self?
If it feels awkward, do it anyway. Avoiding connection won’t make things less awkward.

Avoid “Netflix and chill.” A date isn’t a date if the main thing you watch is a screen.

Showing up for each other on purpose is how relationships thrive.
OK, let’s be real: it’s how they survive.

Curiosity: The Unsung Hero of Healthy Relationships

When your partner says that thing in that tone—and you feel the urge to shut down, snap, or launch a well-rehearsed monologue—there’s one move that can change everything: curiosity.

Curiosity in conflict is a game changer. It slows down reactivity. It invites understanding. And it builds connection right where disconnection usually takes root. Asking yourself questions like “What just triggered me?” or “What’s really going on here?” doesn’t just buy you time—it quiets the amygdala and activates your prefrontal cortex. That’s not just insight. That’s neuroscience.

And when that same curiosity is directed toward your partner? It’s magic. Real listening—listening without mentally drafting your comeback—signals safety, empathy, and emotional availability. It creates the kind of bond that no amount of “I love you” can fake.

According to a recent article in National Geographic, this goes far beyond relationships. People who experience regular states of interest—curiosity in action—report greater life satisfaction, more positive emotion, lower anxiety, and stronger relationships. They even laugh more. (Turns out we laugh 30 times more when we’re with others than when we’re alone. Why? Because laughter, like curiosity, is social glue.)

Curiosity isn’t just a nice-to-have. It’s a practice. And in your most reactive moments, it might be the most powerful one you’ve got.

Read the National Geographic article here.

Why Can’t We All Just Get Along? (And What That Has to Do with Your Relationship)

Conflict Isn’t Just Personal—It’s Primal

In my office, I see a lot of couples who love each other—but can’t stop fighting. And couples who’ve stopped fighting because they’ve shut down emotionally. Sound familiar?

It’s easy to think conflict is about personality differences. But honestly? Much of what we struggle with in relationships is baked into human nature—the same wiring that drives large-scale conflict, division, and tribalism.

Ancient Wiring, Modern Fights

We live in a loud, angry, divided world. Everyone’s shouting, no one’s listening, and we’ve all retreated into our camps—online and off.

The same instincts show up in our intimate relationships. Minor disagreements can trigger ancient systems that read conflict as danger, invoking the “fight or flight” response. That’s why a small argument—about tone, timing, or whose turn it is to unload the dishwasher—can feel like a threat, and turn you into something less than the best version of yourself.

Rodney King Was Right to Ask

In 1992, Rodney King—bruised and humiliated—stood in front of a microphone and asked, “Can we all get along?”

A reasonable question. But history—and therapy rooms—suggest the answer is often no.

And here’s why: our brains have evolved to scan for danger and label difference. That wiring helped us survive. But it also fuels conflict at every level—global, social, and personal.

Fear is Louder Than Empathy

When we face loss, change, scarcity, or inequality, we don’t instinctively reach for connection. We reach for control. For blame. For distance. And yes, that’s true whether we’re talking about geopolitics… or who left the door unlocked.

Even when we say “forgive and forget,” we rarely do either. Wounds don’t vanish just because a new day starts. And so we begin the next day a little more guarded, a little less open—trying to protect ourselves with control. But in relationships, reactive or defensive control blocks connection.

It’s easier to defend than to ask, “What am I missing here?”
It’s easier to shut down than to risk being misunderstood again.

So no, we haven’t learned to get along—not as a species, and not always in our partnerships.

But speaking of evolution, we rose to the top of the food chain because of opposable thumbs and our ability to think and change our behavior. We can choose to show up differently.

What You Can Actually Do About It

Start small:

Listen more than you talk.
Get curious instead of defensive.
Validate what you don’t yet understand.
Try something new in how you show up—even if it doesn’t come naturally.

We don’t need easier. We need better.
And better starts with us.

If you’re wondering how to make your world less hostile, less lonely, less divided—start with the people right in front of you.

That includes empathy and boundaries.
Love without boundaries burns out.
Boundaries without love isolate.

We need both.
And it starts with us.

PS: If you’re trying to raise children with skills around empathy, boundaries, and compassion, you may find information in the video I made for Authority Magazine useful.

When Respect Feels Missing: A Conversation About Gender, Connection, and Emotional Needs

I was talking with a friend the other day, and he was wondering out loud: Why do women so often say men don’t understand them? It struck me as a fair question. I get a lot of business due to couples having problems communicating with – understanding – each other. No matter how we define or construe gender, there always seem to be misunderstandings.

In popular culture—and often in my therapy office—men are frequently framed as emotionally out of touch. Unwilling, or maybe unable, to engage with nuance. It’s a stereotype, sure, but one that resonates with many people’s lived experiences.

As the conversation continued, my friend shifted gears. He talked about how society seems to be cheering for women in ways that feel visible and celebrated—more women in college, more women starting businesses, more women in leadership. And he’s right: there’s real movement happening.

But alongside that progress, he said, men’s struggles often feel minimized or ignored. That left him—and maybe others—feeling unsure of their place. Like they’re showing up, doing the work, but no one’s really noticing.

Then he said something that gave me pause: “Women don’t seem to understand that men want respect and admiration.”In contrast, he felt women often want to feel emotionally understood.

That idea—respect vs. understanding—may not be universal, but it is familiar. And while research suggests there are some gendered trends in emotional needs, the bigger truth is this: we’re all shaped by more than our gender. Culture, upbringing, life experience—all of it influences how we show up in relationships.

Still, I don’t think my friend was trying to win an argument. I think he was trying to name something he hadn’t quite said out loud before.

In a culture that increasingly centers women’s voices and progress, some men feel unseen, unneeded, or emotionally irrelevant. Women, in seeking emotional understanding, may overlook that men often experience love not through emotional decoding but through expressions of respect, trust, and admiration. The communication gap isn’t just between two people—it’s between two social narratives.

And when those narratives collide—when one partner is seeking emotional resonance and the other is longing to feel respected—we get tension, disconnection, and the all-too-familiar “You don’t get me” loop.

But here’s the good news: understanding and respect aren’t mutually exclusive. They’re just different doors to the same room. Relationships thrive when we stop assuming the other person should love like we do, and instead get curious about what love looks like to them.

So I turned to my friend after we’d had this conversation and told him I respect where he’s coming from. I said I hoped he was feeling seen and heard in his relationship—and then I asked if he felt respected. If he felt like the people in his life really got him.

Sure enough, he said no. He felt misunderstood. Maybe underappreciated for all the work he does. I validated that—because it’s real.

And then I asked the payoff question: “What would you like to do about it?”

As he started to talk about the changes he might make, I thought to myself, Be careful what you wish for. And then I wished him well.

If we can stay curious about each other, we’ve got a shot at getting it right.