Okay, let’s get into the messy stuff. You know that heavy, gross feeling in your chest the day after a massive blow-up? The kind of fight where things were said that can’t be un-said, and now the silence in the house is so loud it’s practically ringing?
Yeah. We’ve all been there.
If you’ve been following my stories, you know my vibe: I have a huge heart, but I also have eyes that see everything and a mouth that will address it. Usually, that serves me well. But let’s be human for a second—sometimes, even with the best intentions, the “addressing” turns into a “demolishing.” You get hurt, you lash out to protect that big heart of yours, they lash out back, and suddenly you’re both standing in a pile of emotional rubble.
So, how do you fix it? How do you have a “repair conversation” when you’re both feeling like the victim and the villain at the same time?
Step 1: Check Your Ego at the Door (It’s Crowded Enough in There)
The hardest part about a repair conversation is that we all want to be Right. We want to walk into the room with a PowerPoint presentation titled: “Why Everything That Happened Was Actually Your Fault, and I Am Merely a Blameless Angel.”
But if I’m being the “Real Tina” with you, I have to admit: even if they started it, I probably finished it in a way I’m not proud of. Repairing isn’t about winning. It’s about deciding that the relationship is more important than your “scorecard.”
Tina’s Tip: If you go in looking for an apology without being ready to give one, just stay on the couch. You aren’t ready yet. Give yourself an extra hour (or a day) until the urge to “win” is replaced by the urge to “connect.”
Step 2: The “Words vs. Movement” Audit
Remember how I always say, “I hear what you’re saying and I see how you’re moving”? This applies to you, too.
When you sit down to talk, your words need to be soft, because your movement (the fight) was already hard. If you sit down with your arms crossed and a stank-face, it doesn’t matter if you say “I’m sorry”—your body is still screaming, “I’m still mad!” Softening your posture and your tone is the first sign that the “villain” has left the building and the “good heart” is back in charge. Relax your jaw. Unclench your fists. If you look like you’re ready for Round 2, they’re going to stay in their corner with their gloves up.
Step 3: Use the “I Felt” Formula (Even When It’s Cringe)
I know, I know. It sounds like something out of a therapy textbook. But listen, if I say, “You were being a jerk,” the other person immediately puts their armor on. If I say, “I felt really dismissed when you walked away while I was talking,” it gives them space to actually hear me.
In a repair conversation, you have to address the impact, not just the intent. They might not have intended to hurt you, but they did. And you might not have intended to be the villain, but you were. Own your part. It sounds like: “I know I was raised-voice Tina yesterday, and I’m sorry for that. I was hurt, but that’s not how I want to talk to you.”
Step 4: The “Deep Listen” (The Hardest Part)
This is where it gets real. You have to let them speak. And—this is the kicker—you have to listen without interrupting to defend yourself.
When they say, “It hurt me when you said X,” your brain is going to want to scream, “BUT I ONLY SAID X BECAUSE YOU DID Y!” Zip it. Let them finish. If I want someone to respect my “good heart,” I have to respect theirs, even when it’s bruised. Sometimes “addressing things” means listening to how you were the one who moved incorrectly. It’s a bitter pill, but it’s the only one that cures the grudge.
Step 5: The “What Now?” Agreement
A repair conversation without a plan is just a therapy session that never ends. Once you’ve both aired the laundry, you have to decide how to stop the cycle.
Ask the big question: “How do we stop this from turning into a nuclear war next time?” Maybe it’s a safe word for when things get too heated, or maybe it’s an agreement that “addressing things” happens at 6 PM, not 11 PM when everyone is tired and cranky. If you don’t change the movement, the words will eventually lose their meaning.
The “Why” Behind the Villain Era
You know what really keeps me up at night after a fight? It’s not just what happened, it’s the why.
When I’m in my “villain era” during a fight, it’s usually because my “extremely good heart” feels like it’s being squeezed. I’ve realized that most of my explosions happen because I saw the movement shifting weeks ago and I didn’t address it. I let it build. I tried to be “chill Tina.” (Spoiler: Tina is never actually chill when she’s being disrespected).
So, part of the repair is also being honest about the buildup. It’s saying, “I’m sorry I blew up yesterday, but I’ve been feeling this shift for a month, and I didn’t know how to tell you.” True repair requires looking at the foundation, not just the broken window.
Messy vs. Malicious
We have to talk about the difference between a messy person and a malicious person. A messy person (like us, sometimes!) makes mistakes, gets loud, and feels terrible afterward. A bad actor is someone who watches you try to repair and purposefully steps on your toes to see if you’ll yell again.
If you’re the only one doing the “Step 4: Deep Listen,” and they’re using that silence to just list more reasons why you’re the villain? That is not a repair conversation. That’s a deposition. My heart is too good to be used as a punching bag under the guise of “conflict resolution.” Part of having a spine is knowing when to say, “I came here to fix this, but you came here to win. Since we aren’t playing the same game, I’m out.”
The Gaslighting Trap
I’m going to be 100% with you: some people will use a repair conversation as another chance to gaslight you. They’ll hear your heart and try to use it as a map to hurt you again.
If you show up to repair—vulnerable, honest, and ready to own your mistakes—and they show up only to re-ignite the war? That’s when you refer back to my old rule: I don’t care if I’m the villain in your story. If I tried to build a bridge and you used the wood to start another fire, I’m walking away with my integrity intact. My “extremely good heart” is a gift, not a target. If you can’t handle a repair conversation without trying to “score” more points, you don’t deserve the version of me that stays to fix things.
Why We Bother
We bother because having an “extremely good heart” means we believe in people. It means we know that we’re all a little bit broken and a little bit messy. A repair conversation is just a way of saying, “I see the mess, and I’d still rather clean it up with you than walk away.”
It takes a lot of strength to be the first one to say, “Hey, can we talk about yesterday? I hate how that went.” It doesn’t make you weak; it makes you the leader of your own life. It means you’re choosing peace over pride, and trust me, peace feels a lot better than being “right” in an empty room.
The goal isn’t to never fight. The goal is to get so good at the repair that the “villain” moments become just a chapter, not the whole book.
Over to You
So, over to you. Have you ever had to be the one to initiate the “repair” even when you were still feeling hurt? How did it go? Did they meet you halfway, or did you have to embrace being the “villain” one last time because they weren’t ready to see your heart?
Drop a comment below—let’s talk through the messy parts together. I’m listening!
Interesting read.