I Know I’m Safe, But Conflict Still Feels Like a Threat

What I’m learning about love, repair, and staying connected when old fears still whisper.

There’s something I’ve been sitting with since this Sit Down Talk episode—something that’s been lingering even after we wrapped the conversation and turned off the camera. We were talking about conflict and how it shows up in our relationship now, over a decade into our relationship. But the deeper I’ve reflected on it, the more I realize this wasn’t just a conversation about arguing or fighting fair. It was about something more tender, more honest—the fear that even in a healthy relationship, conflict can still feel like a threat.

It’s not always about what’s said or how loud it gets. Sometimes it’s just the shift in energy—the quiet space that opens between the two of you when something feels off, and you’re not sure how to name it yet. That’s the part that’s unsettling to me the most. I don’t fear disagreement. I fear disconnection.

And I know exactly where that comes from.

I grew up in a home where conflict didn’t always feel safe. Arguments were disruptions—heavy and unspoken until they weren’t. I was often the middle ground, the in-between, the child carrying tension that was never mine to hold. And even now, decades later, I find myself still carrying that emotional muscle memory. Still filtering conversations through an old lens. Still asking myself, “Is this even worth bringing up? Or am I just afraid of what might come with it?”

There’s a version of me that sometimes still associates conflict with fracture. With finality. With everything unraveling, even when that’s not what’s happening. It’s a version of me I’ve worked hard to understand and even harder to soften.

What I’m learning, though, is that conflict doesn’t have to be catastrophic. It doesn’t have to mean something is broken. It doesn’t have to be something we avoid or overthink. But it does require trust—not just in our partners, but in ourselves. Trust that we can hold tension without losing each other. That disagreement doesn’t mean distance. That we can be honest and still be held with care.

I’m not always good at this. There are still moments when I overanalyze, when I go quiet, when I try to push past the discomfort instead of naming it. But I’ve also come a long way. I’ve learned how to pause when I need to, how to come back to conversations with more clarity, how to repair without shame. I’ve learned that it’s okay to need time. That it’s okay to say, “This isn’t the right moment, but I do want to talk.” That it’s okay to feel big things and still be worthy of softness.

Kier has taught me a lot about that—about slowing down, about holding space, about how healing can happen in small, everyday moments. And I’m grateful. But this isn’t just about him. It’s about me. It’s about the woman I’m still becoming. The mother I want to be. The partner I’m choosing to grow into, not just for him, but for myself too.

So if you find yourself navigating these same questions… if you’re wondering why conflict still feels like a threat even in a loving relationship… if you’re trying to unlearn old patterns while building new ones… I just want to say that you’re not behind. You’re not broken. You’re just becoming more aware. And that’s a beautiful thing.

We’re all learning how to show up better. And sometimes that starts with simply telling the truth about where we are.

xo Noémie 💗

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P.S. If this post hit home, we talk even more about this on The Sit Down Talk.

You can watch the full episode on YouTube here or find it on your favorite podcast app here.

We go even deeper into how conflict evolves, what it reveals, and how we’re learning to stay connected through it all 💗.