I used to believe conflict meant rupture. That to be in conflict with someone I loved was to risk losing them. Maybe you did, too. Maybe, like me, you learned early that disagreement led to withdrawal, a breakup, punishment or worse, that your needs were too much, that your emotions—if not tightly managed—would only push people away.
You might know that I am Pisces. My sun is also in the fourth house of home and belonging. Belonging is not where I “shine”, it’s what keeps me awake at night, what drives my work, what gives me vitality.
I have seen this over and over with clients: when we crave something so deeeep in our tissues, so viscerally, it’s often because this very one thing was never afforded to us when we were young. But most importantly: we go soooo far with steering outcomes to prove ourselves that we simply can not, will not have it. It’s like we become our caregivers, our parents, the mean teacher, our oppressor, our own enemy.
Maybe you've held your tongue, swallowed your feelings whole, let them curdle into resentment or distance. Maybe you've feared saying the wrong thing, misstepping, invalidating another's pain. Maybe you've found yourself freezing mid-conversation, words slipping from your grasp as your body collapses into the familiar refuge of dissociation.
These are survival strategies. They make sense. They’ve actually allowed you/us to survive your childhood. But they are not belonging. They’re your childhood scripts. You’re not a child anymore. The most devastating abandonment no longer comes from your parents or caregivers—it comes from you. Avoidance, when it’s not about our safety, is saying no to our life force: our relationships.
Belonging is not about the absence of rupture; it is about learning to stay—learning to hold the tension of difference without retreating into silence or shame.
Research shows that “good enough parents” (meaning, parent who developed a secure attachment with their child) fuck up 70% of the time. SEVENTY PERCENT. We’re talking about folks who have pushed people out of their vagine. They still fuck up so much ! Do you know what makes their relationship secure? REPAIR.
They listen.
They take accountability.
They say sorry.
They change their behavior.
How many of us have been apologized to as a child? By adults????? I have never.
I was a child. And that meant I was automatically wrong when facing an adult.
That way of thinking didn’t teach me belonging. It only taught me obedience. Or at least it tried: I can’t stand authority, for the life of me.
It certainly didn’t teach me accountability, listening, saying sorry as a mark of sovereignty and dignity, nor true belonging.
Belonging is about standing in our sovereignty, even when our voices shake. It’s about unlearning the idea that conflict is inherently harmful, punitive, or a sign of failure (with the people who love us!). It’s about seeing it instead as a space of possibility—a portal into deeper intimacy, trust, and justice.
Because avoidance doesn’t always keep us safe; it can also keep us disconnected. It shelters us from abolition, from the miracle of ourselves, each other, and the Land. And if we want to build a world where no one is disposable, we have to learn how to stay—not just for the easy moments, but for the hard ones, too.
If you’re ready to explore this work, if you’re longing for an embodied framework that allows you to navigate conflict with clarity, care, and wholeness—join us.
CONFLICT-AVOIDANT CLUB ONLY!!!! We’ll be gathering to unpack our patterns, learn tools for repair, and practice new ways of being in relationship.
Register here (even if you just want the replay because you can’t make it live!) before it’s too late.
Come as you are. We’ll meet you there.
With so much care and warmth!!!!!
Care