Is fighting really normal in relationships?

Couples fight all the time, right?

I grew up hearing that fighting was normal in relationships. Over the years, this idea was reinforced by my experiences with men. In a previous marriage, I remember the devastation I felt when the man I loved raised his voice and acted in a threatening way. It was the first time he had called me names, and after that, there were many more moments of insults and anger.

It never felt right to me, but everyone around me kept saying it was okay. As long as he apologized and bought a nice gift, it meant he didn’t really mean it.

The unicorn of relationships

One day, I was casually talking on the phone with an old high school friend that I had not heard in years. In the background, I could hear her boyfriend chiming in playfully. I asked her what they were doing, and she said they were making dinner together. I was intrigued. I had always wanted a relationship where my partner would cook with me.

I told her how happy I was for her, being able to enjoy something so simple. She said it was their normal—spending time together was something they looked forward to.

So, I had to ask, “How do you guys handle things when you fight?” She laughed and said they had never fought in the 10 years they’d been together.

I was shocked. After all the crap I had been putting up with, I couldn’t believe it. I honestly thought she was lying—until I experienced it for myself. I’ll share more about that later, but for now, I want to focus on what fighting was like for me.

Here is what a typical argument looked like

A Disagreement About Plans

I had been reminding Mark all week that I was supposed to have dinner with my girlfriend on Friday. So, when Friday arrived and I found out he had made other plans for me, I was confused and frustrated.

"Mark, I don’t understand why you made plans tonight," I said. "I’ve had dinner with my friend scheduled for a week. I reminded you multiple times."

Mark looked at me and said, “What? We never talked about that. You must be confused.”

I felt a wave of disbelief. “No, I’m sure we did. I told you last Sunday, and I even mentioned it again yesterday before work.”

He shook his head. “You’re making that up. I don’t remember any of that. You always do this—acting like I’ve forgotten something when you’re the one who never told me. You’ve been really forgetful lately.”

I stood there, certain that we had talked about it. “I know I’m not making this up, Mark. We’ve talked about this more than once. Why would I forget something like that?”

“See?” he said, sighing. “This is exactly what I mean. You get things mixed up, and then you try to blame me. You need to stop being so paranoid and imagining things. I think you're overreacting. It’s not a big deal.”

I paused, my confidence faltering. Was I overreacting? Could I really have mixed things up? “Maybe… I don’t know. I guess I could be overreacting. But I just felt like we discussed it.”

“Exactly,” he replied. “You’re being way too sensitive about this. It’s just dinner. Why don’t we do something fun tomorrow instead?”

By this point, I had been in the relationship for 7 years, and I had learned to keep my emotions in check. If I kept pushing, Mark would fly into a rage. He’d call me names, break things, and rant all night. Once he calmed down, he’d go back to being sweet. He’d say I needed to stop making him so angry and that he only acted that way because he loved me.

The next day, I’d get flowers and expensive gifts. It would remind me of how things were when we first met, and I’d be completely confused about what had happened the day before.

You’re probably wondering if it was always like this.

The answer is no...and yes. In the first few years, I would’ve said no because it didn’t happen often. Looking back, it was like the "boiling frog" analogy—slowly getting worse without me realizing it.

It took a long time for me to see the pattern. By the time I reached 10 years in the relationship, Mark had turned me into a shell of who I once was. He had manipulated me into cutting off relationships with my family and friends. The only people I spent time with were his friends. I was going crazy, to the point of having a nervous breakdown.

Reality Check

One day at work, a colleague noticed I didn’t seem right and asked if I was okay. I told her Mark and I had been fighting, but said it was no big deal because couples fight all the time. She looked me straight in the eyes and asked, “After all of this, do you still love him?”

My eyes filled with tears, and my body started shaking. I ran out of the room. I couldn’t face her—or the truth. The truth was that I didn’t love him anymore. Deep down, I knew he didn’t love me either. His words and actions never matched. I was the one doing all the loving, while he treated me like dirt. The only person not being loved in this relationship was me. I had stopped loving myself.

Good help can be hard to find

After that day, I started searching for answers. At the time, there weren’t many resources on abusive relationships. They didn’t even call it abuse back then. People said it was normal to fight, and that if you truly loved each other, you had to fight for your marriage. So that’s what I thought I was doing.

What I could easily find were tons of articles, books, and magazines on how to please your man.

Then, I stumbled upon a few articles about narcissistic abuse, and I instantly recognized the patterns. But you can’t just go around calling people narcissists—that’s something only a professional can diagnose. And even the experts say it’s hard to identify and can take months of therapy.

So forget about the fancy diagnosis. From my experience, here’s something you can recognize yourself: it’s called gaslighting.

Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation where a person makes someone doubt their own reality, memories, or perceptions, often to gain control or power over them.

Breakdown of Gaslighting Techniques in the Scenario I shared earlier:

Denial of the Event:

Mark immediately denies that I ever mentioned the dinner plans, despite my clear recollection. By doing this, he’s starting to create doubt in my mind about my own memory.

Shifting Blame:

Instead of addressing the issue, Mark shifts the blame onto me by accusing me of being forgetful and confused. This puts me on the defensive and makes me question my own actions.

Minimizing Feelings:

Mark tells me I'm “overreacting” and being “too sensitive,” which invalidates my emotions and downplays the situation. This is a common gaslighting tactic to make the victim feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing.

Creating Doubt:

I begin to second-guess herself, wondering if I really did make a mistake. Mark’s manipulation has caused me to doubt my own memory and feelings.

Diverting the Issue:

Instead of resolving the original problem, Mark diverts attention by offering to do something fun the next day. This confused me further and made me feel like the issue wasn’t as important as I initially thought.

The Emotional Impact:

By the end of the conversation, I was left feeling uncertain and questioning my memory. Instead of standing firm in my reality, I started to accept Mark's version of events. In my mind no one would be so angry and passionate about something this small, so maybe I did make a mistake?

This erosion of confidence can happen gradually over time, making it harder for the victim to recognize the manipulation and leave the relationship.

Does any of this sound familiar?

If it does, I encourage you to seek help right away. You don’t have to do anything drastic, but you need to start taking care of yourself and find a safe space. It might take some time, but you are worth it.

I spent 14 years in my marriage before I was able to safely leave, and then another 5 years in a similar abusive relationship before I finally found the kind of companionship and intimacy I have today. In my current relationship, we’ve never argued or fought.

Do we have differences of opinion? Absolutely. In my past relationships, differences always led to explosive fights. Now, differences are a chance for us to explore each other’s views, so we can better understand and love one another. I now know what my old high school friend was talking about, she was not lying.

So what’s the difference?

We are two people who love ourselves and share that love with each other. We don’t see each other as possessions to be controlled.

Lesson Learned

I knew I was a victim of narcissistic abuse, but what my friendship with Tyrone helped me realize is that I kept attracting that kind of abuse because I wasn’t taking care of myself. If you ask most people if they love themselves, the answer will be, “Of course I love myself.”

I used to be one of those people—until the contradictions were pointed out to me. If I loved myself, then why did I:

Let him talk to me like I was an idiot?

Let him humiliate me in front of his friends?

Let him tell me who I could be friends with?

Those are just a few of the ways I was contradicting myself. Are you contradicting yourself? Are you manifesting abuse into your life?

I have created a FREE resource for you to test your truth, click on the link or scan the QR code at the end of this article.

Conclusion

The simple way to tell if you’re in an abusive relationship is this: their words and actions don’t match. When your own words and actions don’t match, you attract partners who treat you the same way. If you want to manifest the love you dream of, you have to first give that love to yourself.

Get my FREE resource.