The day I paused, everything changed
- Liza Lucie Rust
- Jun 18
- 3 min read

I once had a couple who would argue over everything—dinner, timing, whose turn it was to bathe the kids. But the arguments weren’t loud or violent. They were sharp, quiet, persistent. Like cold wind slipping in through an open window in winter. Not enough to scream, but just enough to make everything uncomfortable.
They were both kind, reflective people. High functioning. They wanted to do the work. They were not fighting about the content—they were fighting from a place of disconnection. You could smell the burnout in their silence.
What puzzled me at first was that, although they weren’t “escalating” in the conventional way, their sessions always left me feeling like I’d run a marathon. And I began to realise—what was happening in the room wasn’t about what was being said. It was about how flooded they were while saying it.
She’d hold her breath and nod with a clenched jaw. He’d become quiet, agreeable, leaning forward like a boy about to be scolded. And then, after 30 minutes of calmly talking about groceries, someone would sigh—and it would all spill out.
There was no time to repair. No space for the nervous system to rest. I once asked if they ever paused mid-conversation, and she said, “Pause? You mean…like…go get tea?”
It made me laugh, but it also stayed with me. So many couples I meet have never actually learned how to pause when conflict rises. Not as avoidance. Not as passive aggression. But as a skill, a way to hold each other through the discomfort rather than over it.
So I created a reset. A five-step ritual. Something that could be used not when everything is calm, but especially when it isn’t.
I called it the Conflict-Calming Worksheet. And today, I’m sharing it with you.
Because I truly believe: sometimes it’s not the topic that needs solving—it’s the space around it that needs softening.
What happens to your body in conflict?
Conflict doesn’t just live in the mind. It’s a full-body experience.
The lump in the throat, the tight chest, the shallow breath—all signs that your body is preparing to protect itself. That might look like yelling. Or freezing. Or walking away.
These aren’t flaws. They’re responses. And if we can learn to recognise them, we can begin to choose differently.
Not perfectly. Not every time. But more often.
The art of the pause
Taking a pause doesn’t mean abandoning the conversation. It means choosing to return to it with your full self.
In the Conflict-Calming Worksheet, I guide you through a 5-step reset designed to help you pause in real-time—without shame or shutdown.
Just space. Just breath. Just a tiny moment of “me” before the “we.”
What’s inside the worksheet?
A practical 5-step method to calm conflict spirals before they blow up
Scripts and sentence starters to signal a pause without blame
Grounding tools to regulate your body during heated moments
A reflection space for you and your partner to personalise the reset
Simple rituals to return to conversation with care and clarity
This is not a miracle fix
This worksheet won’t prevent arguments. It won’t teach your partner to read your mind. It won’t guarantee perfect communication.
But it will give you a pause button when everything feels too loud.And sometimes, that’s enough to change everything.
Want to try?
You can download the Conflict-Calming Worksheet right here:👉
Try it next time tension begins to rise. Use it when you notice yourself withdrawing, or when your partner seems lost for words.
It’s not about perfection. It’s about pause.
Questions for you to explore:
When was the last time you felt yourself flooding in an argument?
How does your body usually respond to tension—fight, flight, freeze, or fawn?
What word or gesture could you use with your partner to gently signal a pause?
What are you afraid might happen if you “take a break” mid-conflict?
If your relationship had more space between trigger and response, what might be possible?
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