The Surprising Power of Owning Your Story in Conflict

How one simple phrase can shift us from blame toward connection.

“True connection is two people willing to listen, learn, and grow together.” — Yung Pueblo

Not long ago, my partner and I were driving home from a long weekend trip. The kind where we’d packed in a lot—laughs, some tension, some logs across a “road” that triggered quite a, “Is that blocked or not?” conversation. After that exchange, we both went quiet.

And by “quiet,” I mean he was quiet—and I went internal.

My mind started spinning: 

He’s irritated, and he’s just not saying it. 

He thinks I ruined the fun. 

He’s disappointed.

I looked over at him and said nothing. Just sat with the growing heaviness of that story building in my head.

Later, when I finally asked, “Are you okay?” he blinked and said, “Yeah—I was just replaying that book we listened to. So interesting.”

Oh.

We’ve all been there—that moment when we fill in the blanks with a story that’s just plausible enough to feel true, but just ungenerous enough to sting. In Imago, we call these stories ‘interpretations,’ and they’re often less about what’s happening now and more about old wounds or unmet needs.

It’s true—sometimes our interpretations are spot on. But more often, they’re tangled up in past experiences, old hurts, and the meaning our nervous system thinks it sees.

That’s why one of my favorite phrases for disarming conflict is:

“The story I have in my head about this is…”

It may seem small, but it does a lot of emotional heavy lifting.

This tiny pivot does two things:

• Owns your story as an interpretation (instead of treating it as fact)

• Invites curiosity (instead of triggering defensiveness)

  
  

Let’s unpack why this phrase matters—and how to use it with care and clarity.

We’ve all had these moments—when the distance between us isn’t physical, but emotional. Sometimes all it takes is pausing to name the story in our head.

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Why "Owning Your Story" Works: A Bridge from Assumption to Connection

When something feels off in our relationship, we instinctively scan for danger. Our nervous system wants answers—and fast. So we fill in the blanks: He doesn’t care. She’s mad. They’re pulling away. But those quick-fill stories often reflect past hurts, not present truth.

Saying, “The story I have in my head is…” creates a pause. It lets us put our thoughts into the room without slamming them down as fact. It offers space for clarification and repair.

What’s Really Happening in the Brain

When we don’t have all the information, the survival brain rushes to fill in the blanks—and often not in a positive way. Why?

Because it’s designed to protect, not to connect.

This is your survival brain at work. It scans for signs of danger and tries to keep you safe by making sense of uncertainty—usually by interpreting in ways that feel familiar, not necessarily accurate.

This is where polyvagal theory comes in: when our nervous system perceives a potential threat (even something as subtle as a partner’s sigh or silence), it can trigger a shift into fight, flight, or freeze. We react from a place of protection—snapping, withdrawing, or shutting down—before we even realize what’s happening.

Add in attachment patterns, and you have even more complexity:

• Anxiously attached partners may quickly interpret silence as rejection.

• Avoidantly attached partners may interpret emotional bids as overwhelming or invasive.

• And we all have our own early-life relational templates that shape what we expect (and fear) in connection.

  
  

By using the phrase, “The story I have in my head…” we interrupt this autopilot. We acknowledge the interpretation as a story—not a truth—and create space for something new to emerge between us.

Same Story, Different Tone

I find this so interesting. Take these two examples:

• “You clearly don’t care about me.”

• “The story I have going on in my head (and it’s strong!) is that you don’t care about me.”

  
  

They’re about the same underlying hurt. But one starts a fight, and the other opens a door.

That second version still expresses vulnerability—but it’s wrapped in ownership. It creates room for the other person to say, “I hear that’s what it felt like. May I share a bit about where I am?”

That said, this phrase isn’t a free pass to turn jabs into soft-sounding jabs. 

If you find yourself saying, “The story I have is that you always ruin everything,”—it’s probably time to check in with yourself first and ask: What’s the real feeling underneath this?

Owning Your Story Is the Start of Healing

So often in conflict, we focus almost entirely on what we want our partner to do differently. And sure—sometimes change is needed. But the deeper work is this:

Can I attend to the hurt inside me, rather than only trying to fix or change you?

When we say, “The story I have in my head is…” we take a step out of blame and into self-awareness. We start to recognize, “Oh, hey, this is my reaction. I wonder what’s going on with me?”

Ideally, in relationships where conflict can be safely explored, we’d see this kind of growth happening on both sides:

• The hurt partner takes ownership of their story and tends to the feelings underneath.

• The listening partner responds with openness and curiosity, rather than defensiveness.

  
  

Real change doesn’t happen from the outside in. It happens when both people are willing to reflect, feel, and connect—especially when it’s hard.

Practice Using the Phrase

Here are a few ways to play with it:

• “The story I have in my head about you pulling away is that I did something wrong.”

• “The story I have in my head about your tone just now is that you’re annoyed with me.”

• “The story I have in my head is that I’m too much—and you’re pulling back.”

  
  

You can even add:

• “Can you tell me if there is some truth in this?” — or —

• “Is there something I might not be seeing?”

  
  

This has a much greater likelihood of turning the conversation from a power struggle into a shared exploration.

Try This at Home

At the end of each blog, I include a simple activity that you and your partner can try together—something to help translate ideas into meaningful connection.

For this month, the practice is:

Set aside 10–15 minutes with your partner to take turns sharing one recent moment that felt off or confusing. Start your share with:

“The story I have in my head about this is…”

Then, if you’re the listener, just listen. You don’t need to fix, correct, or defend. You might simply say, “Thanks for sharing that with me.”

Alternatively, as the listener you can ask:

“Is there a feeling underneath that story you’d like me to know about?”

Remember—this isn’t about who’s right. It’s about creating space to see and understand each other more clearly.

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Let’s keep growing together.