I was born and raised in British Columbia, Canada, in the 1970s. I can’t recall many collective experiences that had a global impact, like the pandemic and our enlivened political theatrics close to home and a border away. However, I imagine similar tensions and uncertainties shaped earlier moments in history—like during the World Wars, the women’s suffrage movement, the AIDS epidemic, the Civil Rights Movement, and genocides, to name but a few.
I am sure that during these historical conflicts, relationships close to home and worldwide were fraught with similar experiences of divisiveness. The pandemic and contentious issues related to democracy are not the first time we have been required to participate in Olympic-level emotional gymnastics.
Collective experiences reshape relationships and create rigid, unyielding perspectives and values—much like what we’re experiencing today.
When I listen to how the last season has impacted relationships, so many describe the grief around how their relationships have changed. We might be guarded in a way we weren’t in the past. We may wonder who our safe folks to talk to and what topics we must avoid.
I’ve noticed folks reluctant to engage, adopting avoidance to protect relationships. Others use the vast highway on Social Media platforms to communicate their perspectives on hot-topic issues. Indeed, finding alliances online and following someone who speaks about issues in ways that we find aligned with our values can be validating. However, I won’t be the first to point out how it can provoke division among strangers.
Suppose we want to privilege connection with others. How do we engage with intensely charged material and stay connected with one another?
One of the most valuable skills I’ve practiced is curiosity. Not the kind that’s thinly veiled judgment—like “How could you possibly think that?”—but the kind that genuinely asks, “What has led you to see it that way?” It’s amazing what opens up when we stop focusing on being understood and start focusing on understanding.
Curiosity isn’t about agreeing. And, yes, I see it as a skill to be developed. What would it be like to be more curious, discover what curiosity sounds and acts like and have more of it? What is your experience of being curious?
What if curiosity was about staying engaged—asking follow-up questions, reflecting on what we hear, and remaining present even when conversations become uncomfortable? What if we were to imagine that curiosity is our gentle reminder that people are more than their positions and that behind every belief is a story?
I have not met someone who is at perfect ease discussing issues about racial injustice or playfully engages in polarizing political topics. During the pandemic, individual feelings about public health measures often escalated, and deeply ingrained personal beliefs about government and vaccinations were exposed.
The electoral process, democracy, and strong allegiance to one political party over another are hotbeds of strife. We trip over our own biases endlessly.
Defensiveness is our first response when our belief systems are challenged. What’s tricky is that not everyone recognizes when they are being defensive.
We are far more aware of defensiveness in others than in ourselves. It’s much easier to notice someone else’s tone than to hear our own. Practicing self-regulation—slowing down, tuning into our bodies, and noticing when tension is building—can be a powerful way to disrupt defensiveness and create space for connection.
When something triggers our defenses, areas in our brain activate. A switch is thrown in the prefrontal cortex—we need this for self-reflection, emotional regulation, and connection—and defenses dial down our connection to this region.
Instead, the amygdala and limbic system light up, treating the situation as a threat and sending us into fight-or-flight mode. Understanding this process can make approaching defensiveness (ours and others) easier- opening a pathway of curiosity and patience rather than frustration. Nothing helpful typically emerges when two people try to engage when the brain regions they need for emotional regulation are offline. It would be like trying to send an email with no network connection.
Another challenge in tough conversations is staying open to learning something new. A simple question, such as ‘Help me understand what you’re thinking’ or ‘What has it been like for you?’ can soften defenses. Approaching with an open posture—arms wide, heart forward—helps lower defenses and keep the tone non-threatening.
Even simple prompts like ‘tell me more about it’ create space—not just for others to share but for me to notice and tend to any defensiveness moving inside me.
Often, we enter hard conversations already defending against the possibility of engaging with new information. Stay curious, acknowledge uncertainty, and see what happens. You will disarm defensiveness and open a new pathway to learning something new, which does not require changing your mind or values. It might mean you learn something new about others’ experiences, heralding in compassion and empathy.
It’s tricky, no doubt. Hard conversations aren’t something we master—we keep practicing them again and again, often getting them very wrong at first before there is improvement.
Something tells me there will be plenty more opportunities to practice them this year.

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