The Mirror Doesn’t Lie (But It Might Exaggerate)

A 5-Part Journey to Relationship Realness

This is Part 2 of 5 in our series on realigning love and self-awareness.

If you missed Part 1, we explored how falling out of love often starts with falling out of alignment with ourselves.

If Part 1 was about noticing the storm inside, Part 2 is about realizing the storm isn’t the problem it’s the weather pattern you’ve been ignoring.

Now, let’s dive into the next layer of the story: how the “problems” we face in relationships might just be reflections -> exaggerated, distorted, but deeply revealing.

When You Stop Calling It a Conflict, Everything Changes

Ever notice how the second you label something a conflict, your body reacts like you’ve been challenged to a duel?

Adrenaline spikes. Defenses rise. Ego grabs its sword.

And suddenly, you’re not having a conversation you’re in a battle.

But what if the problem… isn’t the problem? What if the real issue is the story you’re telling yourself about the problem?

That’s what I discovered. Turns out, it wasn’t a “conflict.” It was a mirror one that was a little distorted, exaggerating the parts of me I didn’t want to look at.

Because sometimes, it’s not about what’s happening. It’s about how loud the echo is inside your own head.

The Ego Loves a Good Story (Especially One with a Villain)

When I woke up with that internal chaos (you know, Part 1 vibes of relationship trouble ), my first instinct was to assign blame:

• “My husband isn’t strong enough.”

• “He avoids conflict because he can’t handle it.”

• “Why am I always the one carrying the emotional load?”

Classic ego move: paint someone else as the problem so you don’t have to sit with your own discomfort.

But here’s what I realized: there was no conflict. Just two misaligned perspectives wearing dramatic costumes.

Sometimes, it’s not a battle. It’s just your ego trying to win a game no one else is playing.

Funny how that works, right? We think we’re fighting them, but really, we’re just shadowboxing our own reflections.

Flipping the Script: From Conflict to Creative Alignment

Instead of going full-on Psychology 101, dissecting communication styles, attachment wounds, and childhood traumas (been there, done that) I tried something radically different:

I stepped out of the “conflict” storyline entirely.

Because if the usual tools weren’t working, maybe it wasn’t the tools. Maybe it was the frame.

Tool 1: The Core Quadrant = Not Just for Corporate Trainings

I learned the Core Quadrant Model back in my early 20s when I was managing chaotic teams. Turns out, it’s not just great for office drama it’s brilliant for relationships.

Here’s the gist:

• Core Quality: A natural strength you’re proud of.

• Pitfall: When that strength is overused, it becomes a weakness.

• Challenge: The growth area you resist because it feels uncomfortable.

• Allergy: The trait in others that drives you nuts (usually because it’s your challenge in disguise).

My Core Quadrant in Action:

• Core Quality: Fierce, direct, passionate, confrontational when needed.

• Pitfall: Overbearing, controlling, impatient.

• Challenge: Patience. Letting things unfold without forcing them.

• Allergy: People who seem passive, avoidant… like Dustin sometimes.

Mic drop.

Turns out, Dustin, my husband wasn’t the problem. He was holding up a mirror to the exact growth area I didn’t want to face:

Can you be strong without being in control?

That question hit different. Because the real flex isn’t in controlling everything it’s in knowing you don’t have to.

Tool 2: Human Design, The Blueprint I Didn’t Know I Needed

Before Human Design, I thought my husband was avoiding conflict. Turns out, he’s a 2/6 Sacral Generator.

His superpower?

• Consistency.

• Stamina.

• A deep connection to his gut instincts.

But here’s the plot twist: Generators thrive on response, not initiation. They don’t jump into chaos just because someone (hi, it’s me) thinks they should.

And me? I’m a 3/5 Splenic Manifestor.

My superpower?

• Initiating.

• Disrupting.

• Experimenting.

• Following my spontaneous splenic hits.

Basically: I’m designed to shake things up. Dustin’s designed to stabilize.

So when I was frustrated, thinking, “Why doesn’t he just confront this head-on like me?” The real question was: Why am I expecting him to be me?

Alignment isn’t about becoming the same. It’s about honoring the differences that make you whole.

Turns out, opposites don’t just attract they balance.

The Emotional Climax: When his Panic Meets My Pitfall

I thought I was the calm one, the grounded one, the one who keeps her cool under pressure. But when my husband spiraled, I didn’t stay anchored. I spiraled too just differently.

Here’s what happened.

Dustin’s friend got upset with him because of my actions. Not because I was reckless or confrontational, but because I did what I always do I noticed an opportunity, saw a better deal, and wanted to act on it. That’s who I am. I don’t shy away from asking questions, negotiating, or navigating awkwardness. But apparently, that doesn’t always fit neatly into the dynamics my husband has with his friends.

It all started with some car parts we needed for our Jeep Liberty. Dustin’s friend had a connection who could get them at a discounted rate supposed to be $100, simple pick-up, done. Fast forward to Friday evening when the parts arrived. The math didn’t add up. Instead of $100, we were charged $150. No receipt. No explanation. Just a shrug and an awkward silence.

And to make it more interesting: it wasn’t even our money. My dad had generously offered to cover the cost to help us out.

So I did what I do. I asked questions.

I told him, “I’m going to reach out to the supplier directly and sort this out.”

And that’s when he panicked. Not the flailing, shouting kind of panic. The quiet, tense kind that seeps into the room like invisible smoke.

His face tightened, his voice got sharp, and suddenly, I was the problem not the overcharge, not the friend’s weird reaction, not the missing receipt.

“Just leave it. It’s not our money anyway. I have to hang out with him. I don’t want to make it a thing.”

That’s when it hit me: I didn’t hold my ground.

I didn’t say, “Babe, this isn’t about confrontation for the sake of it. It’s about integrity.”

Nope. I smoothed it over. I adapted. I twisted myself into emotional origami so he wouldn’t have to sit with the discomfort I was feeling for both of us.

But if I’m being honest I wasn’t doing it for him. I was doing it because when he panicked, I panicked.

It’s wild how fast that happens. One minute, you’re steady. The next, you’re tangled in someone else’s storm like it’s your own.

The Realization

After spiraling in my own head, coaching myself like a glitchy self-help audiobook on repeat, I realized something:

I didn’t need to match his panic to prove I cared. I didn’t need to abandon my calm just because he was drowning in his chaos.

What I should’ve said was simple: “Honey, if your friend has a problem with my actions, he can call me. You don’t need to carry the weight of my choices I’m fully capable of owning them.”

That would’ve honored both of us. It would’ve kept my husband out of confrontation, which isn’t his jam, and allowed me to stand in my own strength because that is my jam.

The Mirror Moment

The real “conflict” wasn’t about car parts, receipts, or even Dustin’s friend.

It was about me seeing a reflection I didn’t want to face: The part of me that believes peace comes from control. That love is maintained by managing everyone’s emotions. That my calm only exists if everyone else is okay.

But here’s the truth: My power isn’t in fixing the chaos. It’s in standing still while the chaos spins around me.

Like a lighthouse anchored, unbothered, shining regardless of the storm. Because the lighthouse doesn’t stop the storm. It just refuses to move because of it.

Our Dynamic: The Breeze Meets the Cyclone

I thought we were in a conflict. We weren’t. We were in an unintentional dance:

• The Breeze (Me): Light, fast, moving across emotional landscapes, eager to explore new territories.

• The Cyclone (Him): Intense, rooted, gathering energy inward before making any moves.

The Breeze wants to rearrange the living room at midnight. The Cyclone is still processing the last time we moved the couch.

When I stopped labeling our differences as problems, I finally saw them as gifts.

My movement sparks his courage. His depth anchors my flight.

And suddenly, there was no conflict to resolve just a relationship to realign.

Mini Alignment Exercise: The Creative Reframe

Think of a recent “conflict” with your partner (or anyone, really).

Instead of asking:

❌ “What’s wrong with them?”

Ask yourself:

✅ “What’s my core strength in this situation?”

✅ “How might I be overusing it?”

✅ “What’s the hidden strength in their behavior that I’m allergic to?”

Now flip it:

• Instead of “they’re avoiding,” maybe they’re choosing peace.

• Instead of “they’re controlling,” maybe they’re trying to feel safe.

• Instead of “they’re lazy,” maybe they’re modeling rest.

Closing Thoughts

You don’t have to win every argument. Sometimes, you just have to change the game.

Coming Up Next: Part 3 – The Apple Problem: Redefining Roles in Relationships

Think fairness in relationships is all about splitting things 50/50?

Spoiler: It was never about splitting the apples equally.

It was about realizing we were never supposed to grow the same orchard.

If alignment is the dance, Part 3 is about the rhythm where we stop counting steps and start feeling the flow.

We’ll explore how true partnership isn’t about keeping score it’s about celebrating our differences, honoring what we each bring to the table, and redefining what fairness really means.