Different Doesn't Mean Wrong

Living with differences without letting them divide you

Relationships would be so much easier if two people experienced the world in the same way… but also far less interesting. As Scott is fond of saying, “If we were both the same, then one of us wouldn’t be needed.” I’ll admit, I had a hard time taking that in at first — but now I kind of like it.

Over the past few months, we've been traveling through the foundational skills that help couples stay connected in the moments that tend to bring friction:

• September explored what happens when you slow down enough to offer genuine validation — You make sense.

• October gave a visual metaphor for empathy with Crossing the Bridge into your partner's inner world.

• November looked at how to stay grounded when your experiences of a situation don’t match, and how to shift out of ‘who's right?’ and into ‘can we understand each other?’

  
  

Up until now, we've been talking about moments — perceptions, reactions, and interpretations.

This month, we're zooming out to a bigger truth: Different doesn't mean wrong.

We're looking at differences that aren't tied to a single argument but rooted in personality, wiring, upbringing, rhythm, and temperament — the enduring ways we each move through the world.

This is territory where many couples get stuck. And it's also where some of the most beautiful, rewarding, and mature relationship growth becomes possible.

Why Differences Feel So Personal

You'd think we would know by now that two humans will not — cannot — respond to life in the same way. But our nervous systems really want this to be the way things work.

For most of us, sameness feels soothing. Predictable. Familiar.

Difference? Difference brings the sense, "Uh-oh, are we not aligned? Am I safe? Do you still understand me?"

This response to difference is generally not conscious. It's biology doing what biology does: scanning for signs of danger, instability, or disconnection.

So when your partner needs space and you need closeness… or you recharge in quiet while they come alive in a crowd… or you're a planner and they believe planning is a spiritual affront — or you're spontaneous and they seem to need seventeen contingency plans before ordering takeout…

…it all can feel surprisingly personal.

Not because it is personal — but because our bodies respond to difference before our minds can contextualize it.

These differences show up everywhere: One person wants to talk through the budget line by line; the other finds spreadsheets suffocating. One parent believes in strict bedtimes; the other thinks childhood should have more flow. One partner needs the kitchen cleaned before bed; the other doesn't even see the dishes.

The specifics vary, but the pattern is the same: When you approach the world differently, it can feel like your partner is choosing wrong — when really, they're just choosing differently. And usually, there’s wisdom on both sides… if we can step back long enough to get curious.

Imago theory offers one path toward curiosity.

Two people, two ways of being—both are okay.

Imago's Lens: We're Drawn to Difference on Purpose

Imago theory suggests that we unconsciously choose partners whose traits, strengths, and sensitivities stretch us in the exact places we need to grow.

In other words: You didn't pick someone different by accident.

You picked someone different because those differences invite you into areas of healing, expansion, and growth. (Yes, even the maddening differences. Especially those.)

And this connects to another framework that pairs beautifully…

A Quick Nod to the Developmental Model

The Developmental Model of Couples Therapy views relationships as moving through predictable stages — similar to a human growing from childhood into adulthood.

Both Imago and the Developmental Model agree on this: The stage where most couples get stuck is the differentiation stage.

This is the phase where:

• your partner's differences become more obvious,

• your own preferences feel more pronounced, and

• the fantasy of perfect sameness dissolves.

In the Developmental Model, this stage is literally called Differentiation—the point where each partner begins to assert their individuality within the relationship. It can feel destabilizing because you're no longer merged in that early "we're so alike!" honeymoon glow. But it's actually a sign of health: you're becoming two separate people who are choosing to stay connected.

Here's what's important to know:

Differentiation isn't a stage you complete once and leave behind. It's more like a skill you keep practicing as life evolves. 

You might navigate it beautifully for years—and then a big transition (a move, a new baby, a career shift, a loss) can bring you right back into it. That's not regression. That's just life asking you to practice differentiation in new territory.

Later stages (like Practicing, Rapprochement, and Mutual Interdependence) become possible because you learn how to stay connected without demanding that your partner be a clone of you.

For now, the takeaway is simple: Difference is not the enemy. It's part of the path.

Turning Toward Differences Instead of Fighting Them

When partners bump into a core difference, the reflex is often to explain, defend, persuade, or diagnose. ("You're being rigid." "You're being chaotic." "Why can't you just…?") But differences usually soften when we approach them with less judgment and more curiosity.

A helpful starting point is simply naming the difference in neutral language — "You move slowly and thoughtfully; I move quickly and intuitively," "You recharge alone; I recharge through connection," "You like to understand all the pieces; I trust we'll figure it out as we go."

Naming things this way doesn't solve the difference, but it takes the moral heat out of it. No one is wrong. No one is defective. You're just… different.

From there, curiosity becomes the bridge. Not curiosity about how to change the other person, but curiosity about the inner logic behind the difference. What does this give you? becomes the anchor question—the one that opens up understanding instead of defense.

And rather than using Dialogue to iron out the difference, you can use it to understand the world inside it. That's often where the unspoken wisdom lives.

Once both partners feel seen, you can usually find a small, flexible "both/and" — a way of honoring each person's wiring without forcing sameness. Imperfect hybrids have saved more relationships than perfect solutions ever have.

This is the spirit behind the Try This at Home exercise below: not to fix your differences, but to understand them from the inside out.

Different doesn't mean distant

A Small Story (Because It Helps to See It in Motion)

At a Christmas party recently, Scott's and my "party differences" showed up.

Scott walked in and immediately lit up. Within minutes, he was deep in conversation with someone he hadn't met before, then later catching up with someone he hadn't seen in years, and eventually laughing with a group over shared memories from our little mountain town. For him, gatherings are energizing — not because he's trying to "talk to as many people as possible," but because each conversation feels like a small discovery: Oh, that was interesting. Oh, that was meaningful. Oh, that was fun.

Meanwhile, I got my plate of food, scanned the room, and made my way to the quiet table where no one was sitting.

This reminded me of a similar moment last year, when Scott watched me head toward an empty table and whispered, puzzled, "But… no one is sitting there."

"Yes," I said, "that's why I'm going."

With a very puzzled look from Scott - "But you'll be by yourself."

"Yes."

"…I'll come sit with you."

"No…really I will be fine."

(It was said lovingly. I promise.)

And here's the thing: I wasn't withdrawing. Within minutes, someone joined me. We slipped into one of those thoughtful one-on-one conversations where time slows down. Later, I wandered over to a small group and had another warm exchange.

I connected in my way — steadily, gently, meaningfully. Scott connected in his way — energetically, expansively, joyfully.

Neither of us were wrong.

It has taken us a while to understand that our social "settings" aren't character flaws but simply two different nervous systems doing what they do. The whole thing has mostly stopped being confusing, and is closer to being endearing.

This is differentiation in motion:

I don't need you to be like me. And I don't need to be like you. We can meet in the middle when we need to — and honor the uniqueness that makes us who we are.

TRY THIS AT HOME: The "Curiosity Swap"

This exercise slows down a familiar difference long enough to understand it from the inside—not to solve it, but to soften the threat around it.

Each partner chooses one difference between you—something low-stakes and representative. (Social energy, decision-making pace, how you handle conflict, how you recharge, etc.)

Then take turns answering these three prompts while your partner mirrors:

1. "What this gives me…" (Why your way of doing/being feels good or grounding to you.)

2. "What's hard for me about the opposite…" (The part of your partner's way that stretches or confuses you.)

3. "What I imagine might be hard for you about my way…" (Empathy as a bridge, not a performance.)

   
   

The goal isn't agreement. It's understanding. And understanding creates the kind of spaciousness where couples can stop trying to fix differences and start living with them more gracefully.

Here's what this might sound like:

Using the social energy difference from the party story:

Nichole:

What this gives me… "Starting at a quieter table lets me settle in without feeling overstimulated. I can actually be present for one meaningful conversation instead of skimming the surface of ten. It's how I connect—slowly, but deeply."

What's hard for me about the opposite… "When you move through a room quickly, connecting with lots of people, it can feel a little destabilizing to me—like I don't know where to land. I worry I'm supposed to keep up, or that I'm doing it wrong by staying in one place."

What I imagine might be hard for you about my way… "I think my quieter approach might feel limiting to you—like I'm not fully participating or enjoying myself. And maybe it's confusing when I say I'm fine but I'm sitting alone."

Scott would mirror each of my answers. Then we would switch, with Scott answering from his experience and me mirroring.  This is where the real understanding starts to build.

Closing the Year

This series has been all about deepening connection through:

• validation,

• curiosity,

• navigating mismatch,

• and now, embracing difference as part of the journey.

  
  

If you take nothing else with you into the new year, take this:

Different doesn't mean wrong.

Different means you're human — and that you're in a living, learning, growing relationship.

If this work resonates with you, I'd love to share more in the coming months. I send out a blog roughly once a month, and Scott and I are excited to continue offering Getting the Love You Want workshops in 2026—weekend workshops where we have a lot of fun bringing concepts like this to life.

If you're not yet on my mailing list, you can sign up here: Mailing List Sign Up

Until then, may you meet your differences with curiosity, tenderness, and just enough humor to keep things light. 

Wishing you a wonderful wrap up to 2025 and a great transition into 2026.