When someone you love (or even someone you don’t) has an opinion that feels threatening or dangerous to your way of being, what do you do? How do you react?
These days, with polarisation dominating so many conversations—whether about politics, identity, or the “right way” to think—I’ve been learning just how deeply these dynamics show up in my personal relationships. Over the past six months, my relationship with my partner has been my greatest teacher in navigating these divides, inviting me into what feels like the most radical activism: staying curious and open in the face of our differences.
You could easily place me in the “left-leaning” camp and my partner in the “right-leaning” camp. When he shared with me that he supported Trump’s presidency, my initial reaction was horror—how could he back someone who seems to embody the opposite of everything I value? Yet, instead of letting these differences tear us apart, we’ve been discovering how they can bring us closer together.
I’d be lying if I said it’s been easy. There have been moments when our perspectives have felt like too much difference to bear, when I’ve doubted whether love and curiosity and other parts of a shared life vision are enough to hold us together. But each time, our shared commitment to truly see each other—to slow down, pause judgment, and look beyond the labels that divide—has brought us back to presence, where some kind of transformative magic occurs between us. We’ve been learning that opposing views don’t have to mean opposing values or opposing hearts. Perhaps instead, our differences can be an opportunity to access the experience of loving that comes when we are committed to truly knowing and accepting one another.
What’s surprised me most is that staying curious about his views hasn’t diminished my own. If anything, I feel more inspired to keep exploring the perspectives I stand for. And leaning into his perspective with an open heart has supported me to hold a more complex and inclusive view of the world and its many inhabitants. Each time I label his opinions as “dangerous,” I can feel my own fears and projections rising up, casting him as a threat within the narrative I’ve created.
For example, when he shares an unpopular opinion that I fear my friends may not enjoy, I often feel a wave of embarrassment, quickly masked by anger or judgment—why would he say that? But when I sit with that discomfort, a deeper truth emerges: I fear rejection for expressing my own controversial thoughts. These moments echo childhood memories when my truths were met with disapproval or dismissal, leaving me feeling ashamed and unseen.
In these moments, I see how my judgment of him is in some part a defence of my younger self. My need for belonging feels threatened, and I rebel against him to avoid facing my own vulnerability. The other part that reacts is standing in protection of my core values, when I react to what I believe he is saying rather than what he is really telling me, then it can be so easy to hear his views as threatening my values for compassion and care for humanity.
When I am able to stay with him and lean in I find that many times we share the exact same values, the only difference is the pathways we take towards those values being met. When each of us turns toward the others feelings of fear and anger with curiosity and compassion, these differences and our reactions to one another have become opportunities for healing—both within myself and between us and for me it heals something of a painful dynamic that I see playing out between humans so often it goes unnoticed.
Through these challenges, I’ve come to see our relationship as a microcosm for what I deeply long to see in the world: a commitment to connection, even when it’s uncomfortable. Relational practices have been our lifeline, we turn towards curiosity as a bridge that helps us meet each other with honesty and care for our relationship.
What we’re finding is a kind of love and security that runs deeper than agreeing on everything. It’s a connection that isn’t dependent on having the same views but on a desire to truly hear and meet one another. This foundation feels more stable than the fleeting comfort of alignment because perspectives can change, and I hope that our commitment to staying curious and open towards one another can carry us through.
When you find yourself seeing them as the “enemy” or a threat, here are some questions you can ask yourself—or explore together—to help you reconnect with curiosity, respect, and honesty:
Reflective Questions:
What am I feeling right now, and what am I most afraid of at this moment?
What is truly important for me now? What do I really want to happen or hear at this moment?
What might this person be caring for, even if I don’t agree with their perspective?
What values or needs might be behind their words or actions, and how might they relate to my own?
Am I reacting to what they’re actually saying, or to the story I’m telling myself about them?
If I imagine myself in their shoes now, how might I be feeling?
What would it feel like to let go of the need to convince them of my perspective for the next 15 - 30 minutes?
What do I need to happen now in order to see this person's humanity and to trust that we can have this conversation with a commitment to connection?
If this resonates with you, I warmly invite you to join our next Foundations course. Together, we’ll explore the edges of NVC, connecting in the present moment and rediscovering what it means to communicate from the heart. Let’s grow together in deeper, more compassionate ways.
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