Explosive Arguments

The consequences of a relationship with explosive arguments

Growing up you don’t have a real sense of relationships. You have a vague picture of what you may want, but not really because you’re a kid. Your main example of relationships starts to come from those around you, particularly those within the household. It shapes the way you communicate, what you view as a need to be defensive, what you deem respectful. Whether you realize it or not, you internalize what you are shown. You’re parents set the tone of what you expect and the way you start to view romance.

As a little girl I was met with the good, bad, and ugly of my parents relationship. I watched as they continued their everlasting ups and downs together. I now realize I wasn’t just watching it unfold as a child, I was experiencing it. I was experiencing the quarrels just as they were. I watched as they fought for the last word. I watched as they hurled insults back and forth. I watched as they never stopped to listen to each other and only stop to catch their breath, so they could respond again. I watched as two people who’s told me time and time again that they loved each other, be so cruel to one another. So as an impressionable child, I believed that’s what relationships were. I believed that with love there had to be pain, and that love without pain was unrealistic.

Then, I grew older, into a woman. Once I set out into the world to experience relationships for myself, I carried all that I’ve witnessed with me. I had finally got into a relationship, that low and behold held the same aspects as the one I grew to know as a child. Quickly I realized those types of relationships hurt, and they hurt more than bad. I learned they left you with an inner pain that causes more pain than any flesh wound ever could. So, in order to never feel that pain again I became avoidant. The explosive arguments left me emotionally stunned, I could never put my feelings into words (Not unless they were on paper anyway). I’ve grown to despise the yelling, and the hurtful arguments so I’ve decided I just won’t engage in them.

My solution was seemingly easy, yet it turned out worst than expected. It left me avoidant and nonchalant. It left me unable to form any real relationships. I would enter a relationship and know beforehand that we wouldn’t last a month together. Yet, I was fine with it because there would be no pain when they left, and no explosive and hurtful arguments to be had. It became a terrible coping mechanism, and left me feeling unfulfilled within every romantic escapade I’ve encountered. I told myself for months, which turned into years, that I wasn’t ready for a relationship. Honestly, I’ve always known the truth, not being ready was a terrible coverup. Being scared was more so the truth, scared of being hurt, scared of the household filled with screaming pain. Scared of one day raising children with the same lack of communication skills as I.

Now 21, I have learned that the fear I’ve always felt has growth on the other side. I’ve learned that I can take all that fear and apply it to my love life. Though it is basically nonexistent. That fear has propelled me to developing the communication skills, I was so worried I’d never have. There is no relationship in the world that can escape arguments, but there are those that can escape communicative war. It’ll never be an easy task, but it is one worth taking on with a willing partner.