It started with a sentence tossed across a kitchen island, “I just don’t understand your kind of relationship.”
The room went quiet in that strange, heavy way where suddenly the refrigerator hum seemed loud. I felt my anger rise. The kind of anger that starts in your chest and climbs to your throat in seconds. My initial feelings were hurt, anger, the urge to prove and defend… all natural human responses. The next move, though- that was my choice.
There’s a moment between the trigger and the reply where your power lives. And this time, I caught it. I stopped and just stared ahead until my breath slowed down enough to hear myself think. Not reacting isn’t doing nothing; it’s making the choice to do the right thing next. I focused on the three words I want to be known for when faced with conflict: Clear, kind, firm.
“I’m not discussing my relationship with you right now.” I said finally, steadying my voice.
No lecture. No counter-punch. A boundary, not a brawl. The moment didn’t turn cinematic. No one applauded, things didn’t escalate, but the air in my body changed. I hadn’t given away my control. I hadn’t let someone else’s words take my power.
This is what I’m learning. Silence isn’t surrender; it’s saving your breath for the words that change something. I don’t need to fight every invitation to fight. What I need to do is choose the place where my voice actually creates a positive outcome. Sometimes that’s a calm one-on-one conversation and sometimes it’s supporting people doing the work. And other times, it’s protecting my peace so I can show up tomorrow with more than fumes.
Peace doesn’t mean pretending the world is gentle. It means remembering I have options. It means I can pause long enough to let my values lead the way.
Clear, kind, firm.
I know the fear, I feel it deep inside of me - If I don’t push back right now, will the loudest voices take over the room? Will silence mean I’m okay with them winning the fight? That fear is honest and real but it can still be met with strategy. Self-control should sharpen your courage, not replace it. The pause is not the plan. The pause makes a better plan possible.
A week after that kitchen moment, I tried something. There’s a neighbor I rarely agree with—yard signs, the whole thing. I saw him hauling a busted chair to the curb and almost walked past, headphones in, invisible, pretending I didn’t see him. Instead, I stopped and said, “Need a hand?” We carried the chair together in an awkward, quiet duet. When we were done, he nodded. I nodded back. No debates. No point-scoring. Just one small proof that kindness is power.
That tiny act didn’t change policy. It changed the energy where I stood. And just maybe, it changed the energy where he stood too. In that moment I realized, that’s where ripples begin.
So yes, hold your boundary when a comment tries to hijack your day. Buy yourself time when the heat is high. And when you have breath to spare, spend a little of it on unexpected kindness. It’s harder than snapping back. It’s also more effective at building the world we want to see.
After, jot down how it made you feel. What shifted, and how? - Share your experience with us @standforapparel