Fighting Words: The Tiny Phrases That Launch Huge Arguments

It’s Monday morning drop-off at school for my daughter, my least favorite corner of the week. Monday morning means not only do we need the backpack and lunchbox (which of course we did not clean out on Friday - ew), but we also need the nap bag that includes the brightly labeled nap blanket and tiny pillow. 

I come downstairs feeling like I have already lived a full day waking up extra early to get ready before my daughter is awake, getting her ready for school, packing her lunch while shoveling my own breakfast into my mouth until my husband leaves to take my daughter to school. 

It’s then that I notice the nap bag sitting on the floor next to the chair that held the backpack and lunch. I call my husband, dread already forming in my stomach knowing it’s already too late for him to turn around without my daughter being late. 

He answers immediately and before he can even say hello, I say, “You forgot the nap bag.” He quickly responds, “Did you tell me to bring it?” 

Did I tell you to bring it? Did I tell you it was Monday? Did I remind you that our daughter would be taking a nap today just like she has every day of this school year let alone every day of her life thus far? Is me packing the nap bag and leaving it leaning against her backpack not enough? Am I also responsible for ensuring that it gets into your hand every week and into your head to take this bag? Does the default parent role I somehow automatically inherited mean that I’m responsible for any parental misstep even when I didn’t think it was mine to own?

All that to say, the fight begins. It’s short. It’s clipped and heavy with words we don’t say since my daughter is still in the car and this conversation is playing through the carplay that my daughter is certainly listening to. But we both get off the phone feeling disconnected, misunderstood, and pissed at each other. Hello, Monday.  

There were many words and phrases in this conversation that derailed it, but what was the kicker for me? “Did you tell me to bring it?” I’ve actually heard this phrase many times, and not just in my relationship, but also when working with couples in couples psychotherapy. Other variations of this sentiment could be, “You didn’t tell me…,” “Did you ask me to…?” or “You didn’t remind me…” 

I’ve seen this seemingly simple, but wildly emotionally loaded phrase launch countless fights in couples. Other fan favorites that have shown up countless times with similarly conflictual and antagonistic results include: 

• I was just joking. 

• It’s not that big of a deal. 

• Why do you need things to be so perfect?

• Now you know how I feel. 

• Why can’t you do it yourself?

As therapists, we try not to live in absolutes and spend a lot of time in the playground of grey. But I will tell you this, these phrases will rarely lead you to a good outcome. For example, if you need to say “I was just joking” in response to your “joke,” let’s go ahead and assume it didn’t go well and doubling down on the joke’s intention is unlikely to help. 

This may seem unrelated, but consider how you train a puppy to stop nipping. Apparently, it’s important to make a yelping sound when your puppy bites or nips you, so they learn the consequence of playing too rough (something they also learn from their puppy siblings and I learned from a very eager dog trainer). Thus, every time my tiny Pomeranian puppy nipped me, I made a dramatic yelping noise that suggested I had been stabbed. It reliably seemed to startle us both. And what do you know, it did quickly reduce that behavior.

Somehow, as humans we’ve seemed to overcomplicate this same dance. I can tell you “ouch, that hurt” and instead of learning, “Oh, okay maybe I shouldn’t do that again,” we instead dig in our heels and double down on our stance of humorous posturing or feigned curiosity (no really though, I’m just wondering why you can’t do it yourself?). 

Part of the challenge with these phrases is they are often conversation closers rather than invitations or if they are an invitation, they are much more poised to be invitations to escalate. Consider how many wonderful, connecting conversations you’ve had that have started with “I never said that” or “Now you know how I feel.” Even the statements poised as questions are at best mild complaints masquerading as questions. 

Why do we say these phrases and then double down on them?

Because to do otherwise would be potentially allowing shame to enter the conversation. Take the example of when my husband was solo parenting while I was out at a work retreat. As he described how tired he was with the accumulated early mornings of our perpetually up before 7AM daughter, a part of me can’t help but reply, “Now you know how I feel.” You can guess how that one landed. 

He understandably gets quiet. When I ask what’s wrong (I already know, but don’t want to deal), he says “That didn’t feel good to hear.” I then double down with another golden phrase, “I was just joking. Misery loves company haha!” Crickets. 

Here’s the thing. I don't want to feel bad. I don't want to be the bad guy. I like staying on my pedestal. The view is so nice up here. 

This takes us to reason number one that we double down on our original offending phrase. If I acknowledge that I just said something that hurt your feelings, I will likely feel bad about this - but what flavor does bad take? Is it mild embarrassment that I can shake off with an apology and lightness? Is it guilt that sits with me as I consider the behaviors or statements I shouldn’t have said? Or, do I feel shame because if I said this bad thing that hurt you, then I must be bad. We’ve got a lot of protective mechanisms designed to prevent us from feeling bad. These same parts don’t give one iota if it makes our partners feel hurt as a consequence. 

Another contributor to the frequent use of these fighting words is that these phrases are often just the cherry on top of a pie of grievances. Consider when I (unhelpfully) told my husband “Now you know how I feel” in response to his morning fatigue from solo parenting. You are correct to assume that was not the first time I had upset feelings about the disproportionate amount of early mornings I took over my husband. Those feelings were now just coming out sideways as the kids say as I (unsuccessfully) attempted to suppress them.  

What can we do about this: 

• Proactively create conditions to share complaints: Partners will always have complaints about each other. How can we not? Humans are inherently annoying. Thus, find ways for weekly or even monthly check-ins where you share appreciation for each other, while also sharing any unmet needs to prevent them from coming out sideways. The Gottmans have a wonderful format for this practice: https://www.gottman.com/blog/how-to-have-a-state-of-the-union-meeting/

• Start noticing your unique fighting phrases: I’ve listed some common examples, but consider the phrases unique to your relationship that reliably seem to trip y’all up. It’s always a good place to start with noticing and naming the fighting phrases you tend to use before calling out your partners. Let’s model vulnerability and accountability.  

• Don’t put an expiration date on repair: Darn, you did it. You said the fighting words, but only noticed the next day. Still connect with your partner and acknowledge your responsibility and repair even if it didn’t lead to significant conflict. Doing this sets up the repair pathway to be even easier to access and faster to get to the next time it happens. Because it will happen. 

• Share your hurt in a way that invites repair: Ouch, you just got bit by a tiny pomeranian puppy aka, your partner just said something that pissed you off and hurt your feelings. You can certainly take the bait to escalate or you can take a deep breath and consider how to move towards repair rather than engaging in the “who’s the bad guy” dance you both know so well. A simple way to do this is to share, “The story in my head when I hear that is…and that makes me feel…I know that’s not your intention. What can we do differently?” 

For example, perhaps instead of saying, “Is it my job to remind you to do anything for our daughter” to my husband, I could have said, “The story in my head when I hear that is that I have to be responsible for remembering everything for our daughter. That makes me feel overwhelmed and alone. I know that’s not your intention. What can we do differently next time?” 

First, thank you Brene Brown for the “story in my head” phrase which is pure gold and is a wonderful way to share perspective and perception without blaming. Adding “I know that’s not your intention” defuses the fear your partner may have of being labeled the “bad guy” in this dance or the shame parts that may be knocking on their door. And you can rarely go wrong with a “we” statement such as “What can we do differently next time?” 

As therapists, we know that breaking these communication habits isn't a linear path. You will say the fighting words again. Your partner will too. You will both occasionally dig your heels in because being the "bad guy" feels uncomfortable or even intolerable. 

The goal is not to never fight; it’s to fight cleaner and repair faster.

By noticing your phrases, naming them, and using new ways of communicating to share your hurt, you are rewiring years of defensive habits. It’s hard, clunky work that won’t always lead to a clean, positive outcome. But every time you choose vulnerability and effort over a fighting phrase, you are choosing each other. And that is always worth the effort.