Burning Down the House: A Field Guide to Fighting Fair

When conflict gets hot, here’s how not to burn everything to the ground.

Arguments get a bad rap. Most of us grow up with the belief that conflict is something to be avoided, feared, or smoothed over as quickly as possible. In reality, conflict can be connective, even generative. If we know how to do it well, arguing can light a path toward deeper intimacy rather than destruction.

What’s more, our style of arguing doesn’t appear out of nowhere. It’s shaped early, in the relational laboratories of our families. The way conflict was handled (or avoided) in our childhood homes often lays the blueprint for how we respond to tension as adults—especially in romantic relationships.

I grew up with a father whose temper was quick to ignite. Fights in our household were loud, volatile, sometimes tipping into violence. While he would always seek repair afterwards—offering hugs, apologies, or a “let’s move on” mentality—the explosive nature of those arguments left a lasting imprint. As a child, I learned to tread carefully. I became hyper-attuned to emotional shifts, anxious to keep the peace. Somewhere along the line, I internalised the message that conflict was dangerous. That it should be avoided at all costs.

Unsurprisingly, I carried that conflict-avoidant stance into adulthood. I'd go quiet when upset. I’d prioritise harmony over honesty. I’d smile through gritted teeth and tell myself it wasn’t worth the argument. But repression has a shelf life—and eventually, all those unspoken truths began to show up in other ways: resentment, withdrawal, passive-aggression.

It wasn’t until much later—through therapy, supervision, and learning how to sit with discomfort—that I began to understand the deeper cost of avoiding conflict. Not just the toll it took on my relationships, but the way it kept me from being fully in contact with myself.

As a therapist working with groups, couples and individuals, I am not there to eliminate conflict, but I do pay attention to the way it is done. Because it’s not whether you fight, but how. Most of us learn to fight messy—shouting, shutting down, dragging in ancient history. I call this ‘dirty conflict’, it’s like throwing emotional spaghetti at the wall and hoping something sticks. It’s messy, overwhelming, and often leaves both parties feeling bruised and bewildered.

Ella and Tom, a couple I worked with, often found themselves spiralling from a small disagreement into all-out war. What started as a conversation about the dishwasher quickly snowballed into global accusations: “You never help around the house,” “You’re just like my dad,” “You always undermine me.” These phrases—'always', 'never', and historical comparisons—set off alarm bells. The issue wasn’t just chores. It was how the conflict was carried: indirect, hurtful, and emotionally unsafe.

Clean conflict, on the other hand, is grounded in ownership and presence. It stays in the here-and-now, focuses on one issue at a time, and avoids blame, shame, or psychological warfare.

So when conflict gets hot, here’s how to keep it clean and not to burn everything to the ground:

1. Use "I" Statements, Not Weapons: Effective arguing is about owning your experience. Instead of: "You never listen to me!" Try: "I feel unheard when I'm talking and I notice you're distracted." This helps to keep defensiveness low and get to the heart of the issue. It also gives the other person a chance to respond to your feelings and experiences instead of guarding their own.

Dan and Reema, another couple I supported, had fallen into a pattern of scorekeeping. “I text first nine times out of ten.” “I picked up the kids three times last week—you only once.” Reema’s frustration was valid—but the way it landed pushed Dan further away. Through therapy, they learned to express their needs without audit trails or emotional surveillance. “I feel more secure when there’s a balance of effort between us” became a much more connecting statement than a running tally of disappointments.

2. Stay with the Present: One of the most common pitfalls I see with warring clients is what therapists call “kitchen-sinking.” It’s when a single disagreement opens the floodgates to everything that’s ever gone wrong in the relationship. Suddenly, you're no longer arguing about who forgot to take the bins out—you’re in 2018, reliving that awful thing they said on holiday, and dragging in every misstep since. While it might feel momentarily satisfying to throw the whole history in, it’s rarely productive.

Arguments shouldn’t feel like courtroom litigations. No one should feel the need to build a mounting case of evidence against the other. Conflict should feel like an opportunity for clarity and repair, not like an indictment.

In Gestalt therapy, we invite people to focus on what’s happening right now. Because it's only in the here and now that we can begin to untangle the relational knot. Staying with the presently unfolding issue helps keep the conversation contained, grounded, and easier to navigate.

3. Let the Body Speak: Does your mind race a million miles a minute during an argument? Do you ever lash out, black out, or forget hurtful things you said, and deeply regret it later? Try tuning into your physical sensations during conflict. Unclench, untighten, and breathe. Get grounded again. Gestalt encourages somatic awareness as a key to self-regulation. Noticing these cues helps slow things down and keep you on track when you’re in the middle of conflict.

With another client, Zahra, I discovered how she would dissociate during arguments. “It’s like I disappear,” she explained. However, this often left her partner feeling stonewalled. In one session, we were able to slow things down by tracking her sensations, bringing her awareness to a constriction in her throat and a deep pull to "shut down." That moment of awareness became the first step toward staying in contact during conflict, rather than abandoning it (or herself).

4. Take a Time-Out: It’s important to acknowledge the powerful role anger plays during an argument. What’s more important is knowing what to do with that anger. Clean conflict is about not letting the anger do the talking. So, if you need to take time to step away, do it. Both for yourself and the other person.

Clean conflict involves pausing with consent: "I need a few minutes to calm down, but I want to come back to this." Return to the conversation only when you’re present enough to be the mouthpiece for your anger, not the conduit for it to act out. You’ll thank yourself, as will the person you are arguing with.

5. No Winners, No Losers: Conflict becomes a chance to reveal yourself to the other, not to manipulate or manage them. Instead of seeing a rupture as a binary—winner vs. loser—view it as a chance to understand and validate the other’s perspective, while still asserting your own. It’s less about being right, and more about being real. In Gestalt therapy, we value authentic contact over trying to win or fix.

6. Repair Matters More Than Perfection: We will all mess up in conflict. What matters most is how we come back. Fighting clean is not about being polite. It's about being real, grounded, and willing to stay in relationship even when it's hard.

Apologising is vital to healing any relationship. The way you apologise is the most important part of moving past conflict, so it’s important to offer your best, even if it isn’t perfect. "I'm sorry you felt hurt" isn't the same as "I'm sorry for the way I said that. It was unfair." Your apology is about taking ownership of your actions, offering someone the chance to do the same, and moving forward.

If your arguments consistently include:

• Name-calling, insults, or threats

• Dismissive body language or stonewalling

• Repetition of the same unresolved arguments

• One person dominating or withdrawing completely

• Lack of repair or closure

…you may need to shift these patterns. Left unchecked, they wear down relational trust.

Conflict, when done well, is a path to intimacy—not a threat to it. It shows that you’re willing to bring your full, messy self into the relationship. It’s about speaking out what hurts, not to harm, but to be seen.

In one couple’s session, a client named Sally told her partner, “I’m not fighting against you—I’m fighting for us.” That moment changed everything. The tone softened. Her partner could finally hear the longing behind the frustration.

Conflict is not the problem. It’s how we wield it that matters. So next time you're in a fiery exchange, ask: “Am I fighting to be right, or am I fighting to be in relationship?” The difference can burn down the house—or rebuild it and make it stronger.

All client cases in this article have been anonymised to protect confidentiality.