Dating as an Adult Child of Divorce, Part 3: Conflict


About eight months into my first serious relationship, something that I like to call ‘pizzagate’ occurred. I went out for pizza with my then-boyfriend, and I took the leftovers home with me. I ended up eating one of the pieces as a late night snack, and immediately feeling guilty (I was very insecure about my weight at this time), I threw the other piece away so I wouldn’t be able to eat it later. Thinking nothing more of it, I went to sleep. The next day at work, my boyfriend said he was excited to eat the leftover pizza at lunch. Oops. I told him I had thrown it away (I did not know he had been planning to have the pizza for lunch!) and his mood immediately changed. He became downcast and frustrated, and told me it is not good to waste food (fair). He then asked me if I threw it away because I was tempted to eat it (alluding to my issues with overeating). This seemingly innocuous exchange sent me into a spiral, which he noticed, because I completely shut down. He reassured me of his love, but it didn’t matter. I left my desk, went to my car, and sobbed for at least half an hour. I was certain our relationship was nearing its end, and it was all because of me and that dumb pizza. 

Why do I tell you this very pathetic and embarrassing story? Well, I think it shows just how disastrous any minor “spat” in a relationship can seem to adult children of divorce, which is why we often avoid conflict meticulously. Growing up as a child of divorced parents, I saw all the conflict but none of the resolution. It was therefore ingrained in me that all conflict is bad; it ends in failure, heartache, and abandonment. So avoid conflict at all costs! That seems simple enough, but in the end this approach fails, too, because it doesn’t give the dating relationship you’re in the honesty it deserves. In the one serious dating relationship I’ve had, I did all the wrong things involving conflict (including avoiding it like the plague), and with some time and distance from the break-up, I can clearly see what I should have done instead. I hope to impart a couple of those lessons (as well as some from my lovely friends who are fellow ACODs) to you here. 

My first lesson is “simple” enough: don’t avoid conflict! Throughout my long-term relationship, I very methodically avoided any conflict with my boyfriend. I tried my best to ensure that if there ever were an issue, it would not be because of me. And if I did have an issue with something he was doing (which was rare, because I mostly assumed everything was my fault), it took me days to gather the courage to bring it up. And when I did, I prefaced the conversation with numerous apologies so that there was no way he could feel like he was in the wrong (even if he was). I held back some of the frankness the conversation warranted, and considered it a success if my point mostly got across, even if the issue wasn’t fully resolved. I hated these conversations so much that most of the time I took Elsa’s approach of “conceal, don’t feel!” (thank you to my mom friend for this Frozen reference) and moved on. This led to near-constant anxiety and border-line depression. But I had a good Catholic man, so those feelings were just shoved deep down! What was there to complain about, if he was happy? 

It turns out there was a lot to complain about, which leads me to my next lesson: speak up for yourself! I’ll never forget talking to a trusted friend about something that was bothering me in my relationship. She said to me: “Rebecca, it’s okay to have preferences!” This seemingly obvious statement hit me like a ton of bricks. It’s okay to have preferences? Up until this point I had never even thought of making my desires known. If harmony were kept, I was happy - what else did I need? Looking back, I was more comfortable and less insecure if things went his way, because in my head that meant there was less possibility for conflict. But this isn’t very honest, is it? The other person isn’t getting the real you. And when dating to marry, you want the other person to get the real, honest you - the one that has preferences, desires, and hopes, as well as anxieties, insecurities, and fears. Anything less is a sham. 

What do I hope to do differently in my next relationship? I hope to be 100% myself, 100% of the time. This doesn’t mean being selfish or always needing “my way”, but it does mean giving the other person my true self, especially when there is a disagreement. This is scary, because as adult children of divorce, we have not seen conflict end with both parties intact and reconciled. By facing conflict head-on in our dating relationships, we’re venturing into territory that has only brought us pain. However, if done honestly and sincerely, conflict can help you and your boyfriend or girlfriend understand one another better and grow closer. A friend of mine told me that when something is bothering her, she will preface the conversation with something along the lines of: “I am feeling really insecure about something, and it is important to me that you know.” This gives the other person the opportunity to give you the space to explain without feeling defensive, and to love you in that insecure moment. So while it seems easier to shut off the bad feelings and not bring them up, this ultimately means you will be shutting off the good feelings, too. Next time, I hope to not be afraid to bring up what is bothering me, to speak up for myself, and state my preferences. 

I often think about what I could have done differently during ‘pizzagate’. I could have opened up to him about my weight insecurities, told him that it really wasn’t a big deal and I would buy him another slice to make up for it, or I could have just apologized and moved on. My reaction at the time spoke to a very deep fear of being unloved, of being left, and of being insecure in who I was. That very small conflict seemed so big in my head. I still struggle with minor disputes like this among friends, but I am working on it. It comes down to this: believing that the people in my life actually want me there, and that they won’t leave me just because I disagree with them or if they get temporarily frustrated with me. Ultimately, it seems to me that if Christ loves me (which he does), then I need not be afraid of saying what is on my mind, if it is done out of charity. I am not my parents, and I can choose to live a life where I give my most sincere self to everyone, friends and romantic interests alike. The right person will invite and respect my thoughts and opinions, and make sure I feel loved and heard. That is the kind of person each of us deserve.

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*Pseudonym used for privacy’s sake and with the permission of the author.

Rebecca attended a Life-Giving Wounds Retreat in 2019 and was amazed at the amount of healing and bonding that occurred in just three days. She decided to be as involved as she could with this burgeoning ministry. In her spare time, she loves reading, baking, and listening to podcasts!