Dear Abby: Okay, recently my boyfriend said all we do is fight. But really, I just call him out when he bails on me or says something mean. He says I’m being “too dramatic” or “misinterpreted”, but tell me, Abby, is it wrong that I’m always the one who starts the fights?
Here’s a potentially controversial take — but I’m putting it out there anyway: you probably should be picking that fight with your partner.
Now before you roll your eyes or clutch your pearls, hear me out. As a woman — and one who’s spent a fair amount of time interrogating her own emotional instincts — I’ve noticed a recurring pattern.
We’re often told, explicitly or not, that confrontation is unbecoming — that we’re being “too much,” “too sensitive” or, God forbid, “dramatic” when we want to speak up about something that’s bothering us.
But here’s the thing: it’s precisely that fear of rocking the boat that slowly, insidiously, erodes our relationships from the inside out.
Let’s call it what it is — suppressed frustration, unspoken hurt and unresolved tension. Over time, all of that quietly curdles into resentment. Yes, resentment.
It doesn’t always start with betrayal or something earth-shattering. Sometimes it’s just that offhand joke at your expense or the emotional unavailability you’ve swallowed for the fourth night in a row.
And yet, we stay silent. We tell ourselves it’s not a “big enough deal.” We try to keep the peace, not realizing that we’re sacrificing something much more precious in the process — our self-respect, our emotional clarity and, often, the actual health of the relationship.
Don’t get me wrong — conflict for the sake of chaos is not what I’m advocating here.
I’m not suggesting you start swinging every time your partner forgets to take the trash out. But I am saying this: some fights are absolutely worth picking — they’re necessary. They’re how we assert our needs, protect our boundaries and keep love from going stale.
And I get it — I really do. I’m naturally non-confrontational too. I hate the idea of making anyone uncomfortable, let alone someone I care about. But the more I thought about it, I couldn’t help but wonder: when is keeping the peace really just keeping ourselves small?
Pick that fight
I’m not here to tell you what warrants a fight and what doesn’t, but if something’s been sitting heavy in your chest for days — or even weeks — you already know the answer.
If you’re constantly biting your tongue just to avoid a reaction, it’s probably time to stop holding back and start speaking.
In that case, yes — pick the fight. You don’t have to stand your ground every time or over everything, but you should over the things that matter. Speak up about the things that threaten your peace, your clarity and your sense of self.
A lot of my girlfriends come to me to vent about something their boyfriend said or did that left them feeling off. And almost every conversation starts the same way: “Okay… tell me if I’m crazy.”
I’ve said it too — more times than I can count. Because when you care about someone, it feels almost unnatural to believe they could intentionally hurt you. It’s easier to question your own judgment than to consider the possibility that someone who claims to love you might also be careless with your feelings.
But here’s the thing: we all say and do dumb or thoughtless things. We’re human. That doesn’t make it okay — but it does make it common. The real issue isn’t whether people make mistakes. It’s whether those mistakes are acknowledged, addressed and corrected.
And this is where things get sticky.
For as therapeutic as it can feel to gossip and vent with your friends, replaying every annoying comment or passive-aggressive jab, it ultimately becomes a loop. You feel heard, sure, and supported, even, but nothing actually changes if the person who hurt you never hears any of it.
You can sit on the couch with your girls for hours dissecting how your boyfriend insults you, and they’ll all nod, validate your feelings and maybe even roast him a little. But once the conversation dies down, you’re still left with the same unresolved resentment. Because it wasn’t them you needed to have the conversation with — it was him.
All that venting? It’s not just a coping mechanism. It’s a signal — a signal that something isn’t sitting right. And no matter how many times your friends agree with you, that discomfort won’t go away until you take it to the one person who actually needs to hear it.

Just raise your voice, don’t lower your standards
Let me be clear — this isn’t a green light to become combative, aggressive or cruel. There’s a difference between healthy confrontation and chaos, emotional maturity and unchecked rage. What I’m talking about is the kind of honest and vulnerable conflict that actually builds relationships rather than breaks them.
If bringing up an issue that bothers you blows up into an argument, that might be an even more blaring red flag.
Everyone thinks I’m crazy when I say this, but truthfully, having a little conflict is healthy. It should be a wake-up call and motivate us to be the best partners for one another. Calling someone out shouldn’t cause a relationship to crash out if it’s truly healthy.
Don’t believe me? Think about why there’s such a thing as “exes”
It’s my honest belief that one of the most common but rarely acknowledged causes of breakups is all the small moments we chose to let slide — from the comments we laughed off but secretly held onto, to unmet needs we never expressed, to boundaries we let blur to avoid seeming “too difficult.”
And most dangerously, it can be the resentment we let snowball because we were too afraid to cause a disruption. It’s rarely one big fight that ends a relationship. It’s death by a thousand unspoken cuts.
And really, it does start with the tiniest things — that time they made a sarcastic comment in front of your friends and you laughed, even though it hurt, that weekend they bailed on plans, again or that subtle way they dismissed your opinions, and you decided not to push back because it “wasn’t worth it.”
Individually, these moments don’t feel breakup-worthy. But when they start stacking — without ever being named, questioned or resolved — they become the emotional debris that clogs the relationship drain.
Suddenly, the spark is gone, you feel emotionally disconnected, you’re irritated all the time — and you can’t quite explain why.
But deep down, you know.
You know it’s because you stopped feeling heard. You stopped advocating for yourself. You stopped fighting for your feelings, for clarity and for fairness.
By the time the breakup actually happens, it doesn’t feel like a surprise — it feels like a relief.
So if you take any piece of advice away from Abby, let it be that sometimes, you should pick that fight.