Silence Isn’t Peace.

By Derek Colvin, LPC-S — The Giant Therapist

Real. Raw. Unfiltered Reflections on Conflict and Repair.

The Illusion of Quiet

I used to think the quiet after a fight meant everything was fine. The yelling stopped, the air settled, and we could finally move on. But over time, I realized silence doesn’t always mean peace—it usually just means someone stopped trying. Avoiding conflict doesn’t save love; it slowly drains it. When we shut down to keep the peace, all we really do is bury resentment alive. And resentment, left unspoken, never dies quietly.

What We Were Taught About Conflict

Most of us never learned how to handle conflict in a way that builds closeness. We learned how to fight, how to win, how to retreat—but not how to repair. Some of us grew up in homes where conflict meant danger, so we learned to disappear. Others watched arguments turn into wars and decided that the loudest voice was the safest one to have. No one taught us what to do when the adrenaline faded and the damage was done. No one modeled how to stay present when everything in you wanted to run. These lessons don’t just vanish when we get married—they follow us. And suddenly, we find ourselves repeating the very patterns we swore we’d never become.

Pride: The Quiet Killer of Connection

Over time, I started to notice how pride shows up in those moments. It disguises itself as strength but really just protects our fear. Pride says, I’m not the problem. It says, If I admit fault, I lose ground. But all it really does is wall us off from the person we love most.

There were times in my own marriage when being right felt more important than being close. I’d shut down, defend, or retreat, thinking silence was safer than vulnerability. What I didn’t see then was that every time I chose pride over repair, I was teaching my wife that my comfort mattered more than her connection.

Learning to Pause

Learning to pause before reacting changed everything. That pause became the space where empathy could live. It’s not easy—it’s humbling to say, “I was wrong,” or “I made you feel small and I hate that.” But those moments of humility are where the relationship starts to breathe again. Real strength isn’t about overpowering a conflict; it’s about staying in it long enough to understand what it’s trying to reveal. The couples who learn to do that stop seeing arguments as proof that something’s wrong and start seeing them as opportunities to grow.

What Real Peace Looks Like

The truth is, silence feels safe because it’s familiar. It’s what many of us grew up with—quiet rooms, tight jaws, everyone pretending things were fine. But peace doesn’t grow in pretending. It grows in presence. It’s built in the conversations where you both risk honesty, where you both stay at the table long enough to repair what’s been bruised. Conflict isn’t proof that something’s broken; it’s proof that you care enough to keep trying. That’s the work I keep coming back to, both in my own marriage and in the couples I sit with every week. We don’t need fewer arguments—we need better ones. Arguments that end with understanding instead of avoidance. Repair that starts with humility instead of blame.

The goal isn’t to stop fighting; it’s to start healing in the middle of the fight. Because silence might feel peaceful, but real peace is noisy—it’s full of truth, accountability, forgiveness, and grace.

If This Hit Home

Share this one with your person—or someone who’s still learning that silence isn’t peace. Follow @themajopodcast on YouTube, Spotify, and other podcast platforms to catch weekly episodes about marriage, manhood, and the messy work of getting better at both. Follow us across social media at @themajopodcast for behind-the-scenes clips and real, unfiltered conversations.

And connect with me on Facebook at @thetherapygiant, or on Instagram and TikTok at @thegiant_therapist, for more reflections on repair, love, and the hard work of staying open.