Your First Fight Isn't the End: How to Argue Well Early in a Relationship

Open on YouTube ↗
Overview

In this episode of the Love Life podcast, Matthew Hussey, his wife Audrey, and his brother Stephen talk about the first argument in a new relationship. Matthew calls it the scariest moment in early dating. The panel's position is that arguments are not a warning sign in themselves. What matters is how two people argue, how they repair afterward, and what the argument teaches them about each other. The conversation covers attachment styles and reactivity, a worked example of a difficult conversation, a communication model from Crucial Conversations, listener questions from a Vice article, and a game about which relationship conflicts are petty and which are profound.

25 min read
0:46

Why the First Argument Feels So Frightening

Matthew separates two moments. He has long said the most dangerous moment in early dating is deciding you really like someone. That is when people tend to drop their boundaries, "let people get away with murder," chase, and obsess. The most scary moment, especially when you really like the person, is the first argument. You are suddenly somewhere you can't control and can't predict. Matthew describes himself as someone with "a wonderful ongoing relationship with anxiety," and says his fear in that moment is that this is where he loses the person.

Stephen describes the opposite reaction. His "avoidant tendencies" have historically led him to conclude that the argument proves the two of them aren't compatible. Matthew calls this a crude but useful picture of how the two attachment styles handle conflict. The anxious person thinks they've already blown it, then chases, over-apologizes, and ruminates about what they should have said. The avoidant person decides they've found the thing that won't work, and goes cold, distant, and withdrawn.

Stephen adds another trigger he used to have. He enjoyed the honeymoon phase, when each person thinks the other is perfect. When the first crack appeared, his thought was, "Oh great, now they think I'm flawed because they found a problem." The hosts joke that Stephen should have sat in the middle as the avoidant between two anxious people. Audrey says she is anxious too.

4:18

Arguing as Healthy, and the Wounds Underneath

Asked how to tell whether a first argument is a real red flag or a normal part of getting to know someone, Audrey says no answer can be definitive. Every relationship involves two unique people, so every argument is unique too. She offers principles instead, starting with her belief that arguing is healthy.

Her example: a friend five months into a new relationship told her they'd just had their first fight. Audrey's response was, "That's good." After five months a fight is normal, she says, and it would be strange to spend day after day with someone and never argue. She suggests treating an argument as a chance to know each other better rather than as the beginning of the end or a crack in something perfect. The repair afterward can make the relationship stronger.

She also points out that early arguments are often "two wounds coming at each other." Each person brings their own baggage, and the fight isn't really about the other person or the issue at hand. It becomes: "You did that one bad thing, therefore you are going to ruin my life… I can't trust you and this is happening all over again, and men this and women that." Audrey sees this too as an opportunity to learn what wounds exist in the other person and in yourself, and to ask why you are so triggered.

6:54

Reactivity: Knowing You're Wrong but Feeling Powerless

Matthew talks about how hard it is to act productively when you're genuinely triggered. Whatever story you've attached to the situation (being wronged, disrespected, scared) "has taken over your body." He recalls times when, even in the heat of an argument, he knew he was handling it badly: overreacting, going cold, getting angry, attacking the other person. He felt almost powerless to do better, and later regretted it. He has also been on the receiving end, with someone attacking him or freezing him out in a way he found unfair. In those moments, he says, "reactivity begets reactivity."

He sees two sides to arguments. They are informative, and he stresses he doesn't mean that as an excuse to watch for flaws and punish someone for them. Arguments show you, on a steep learning curve, who a person is when they're triggered and what triggers them. They are also dangerous: if neither person can get out of their own reactivity, the relationship can "spiral towards blowing this thing up before it's even really had a chance to start." He asks how to interrupt the feeling that "the train has left the station," and how to avoid amplifying someone else's reactivity.

10:54

Vulnerability and Softening First

Audrey's answer is vulnerability. In a fight, she says, you're usually trying to get something: to be seen, to be heard, to feel safe, or to hear the other person say, "Of course I want to spend time with you." You're going about it in a childish way because it's "your inner child essentially kicking up and having a tantrum over a feeling."

Once you notice that the argument has become unproductive, that you're both hurt and you may have overreacted, she says it is never too late to turn around and name what's really going on. Her example: "The truth is I think the reason I'm doing this is because I have felt like you don't value me and you don't want to spend time with me, and that makes me feel rejected. And I know that's probably my stuff, but that's just how I feel." Then you apologize for how you've handled it and ask the other person to see where you're coming from.

When both people are arguing from ego, she says, someone has to soften first. Being that person, and leading the way, can have "a really beautiful impact" on the connection. Matthew says Audrey is better at this than anyone he knows. He believes she argued better than he did in the early days of their relationship, and that this kept them from spiraling from a difficult situation into a worse one.

14:54

Working Through a Scenario: The Call That Never Came

Matthew asks Audrey to slow down and walk through a concrete example. A few weeks or months into dating, someone says they'll call you at the end of the day. You spend the evening looking forward to it. The call never comes. The next morning they text as if nothing happened and never mention it. You've been bottling it up, you hate how much it bothered you and that it affected your sleep, and now you can't act normal by text because you're too annoyed and it would feel fake.

Matthew notes that the reaction has often already started: shorter messages, a slightly cold tone, a mood shift the other person can feel. You're torn between wanting to say something and not wanting to damage the relationship or reveal how much it affected you, because you fear losing power. You also don't trust that you can hide the feeling once you're on the phone or in person. "It's going to leak."

17:39

Intention, Belief, and a Vulnerable Script

Audrey begins with intention. In the early fights between her and Matthew, she says, her "north star" was making sure she didn't damage the relationship. She mentions that in her experience couples fight more at the start. Six years in, she and Matthew fight less, because they've worked through many of those issues and know how to handle each other.

Her second step is to remind herself of a belief: relationships get better through communication and hard conversations, so having this conversation well will make things stronger with the right person. Matthew reframes it: if you communicate and things become worse and irreparable, then by definition it was the wrong relationship, because "a relationship where I can never talk and we can't argue is a hostage situation. It's not a relationship."

Matthew then pushes back on behalf of listeners. Early dating does feel fragile. People can be scared off, and sometimes we do pick fights over things that turn out to be nothing and cause real damage. How do you balance the belief that the right person can handle arguments with that fragility? Audrey says his scenario is really about how to have a conversation rather than an argument. She offers a script:

"Can I talk to you about something? This may seem a little crazy to you. You probably haven't thought about it much, but believe it or not, this has been really playing on my mind. When you said you were going to call me yesterday and you didn't, that was kind of hurtful."

She emphasizes attributing positive intentions to the other person. Jumping to "the reason they didn't call me is because they're an [expletive], they're disrespecting me, I can't trust them, and this is just like all the other situations I've been in" will badly damage the relationship even if the person isn't like that at all. She suggests saying something like: I know you didn't mean to, but it made me feel insecure, a bit abandoned, and I'm telling you because I don't want to get resentful, go cold, and punish you with my behavior when you wouldn't even know what upset me.

If you've already reacted badly, for example by calling to say "this isn't going to work if you don't call me when you say you will, it's really disrespectful of my time," Audrey says you can still walk it back. Go into "vulnerable mode," explain where the reaction came from, and apologize for your behavior. The right relationship will get stronger through that, in her view. She thinks apologizing goes a long way because it shows you're "not just some kind of narcissistic person who doesn't take accountability," but "a person like me who got triggered."

23:51

Not Minimizing a Feeling That Is Valid

Matthew praises Audrey's phrasing for taking the other person's ego out of the situation, then raises a concern. What about someone who doesn't think their feeling is stupid, who believes they have every right to be upset? Calling your own feeling "stupid" could invalidate it. It could also give a bad actor room to agree ("you're right, it is stupid, and it's unfair of you to put this on me"). He especially doesn't want people who already minimize their feelings to go further in that direction and lose the ability to stand up for themselves.

Audrey's first answer is that even when you didn't cause an argument, you can usually find something you did unproductively: a hurtful remark, dragging in something irrelevant to score points. You can apologize for that while standing by what you said. "I meant what I said and it has really hurt my feelings, but I'm sorry for the way that I brought it to you."

Matthew narrows the question to the first conversation, before any blow-up. Suppose keeping promises matters a lot to you. Audrey observes that the other person can't be expected to know that yet, so blowing up at them would be a mistake on your part, even though the feeling is valid. The key, she says, is to separate the pieces instead of lumping them together. You can acknowledge that your reaction may come partly from your own history and also state plainly that "consistency or keeping to your word is really important to me, and that's something I really need from someone I'm dating." The hurt may not be entirely reasonable, "but it did [hurt], and that's who I am, and you should know that about me because it's important."

28:25

The STATE Model from Crucial Conversations

Stephen notes that Audrey is avoiding common traps: assuming malicious intent, pointing fingers, calling the other person selfish. He says her approach matches the STATE model from the book Crucial Conversations:

  • Share your facts: start with what you saw or heard.
  • Tell your story: explain how you interpreted it.
  • Ask for others' paths: invite their view of the situation. Did they mean to make you jealous? Did they know they were doing it?
  • Talk tentatively: avoid "you always" and "you never." Early on especially, don't assume a pattern.
  • Encourage testing: stay open to being wrong about their intent.

Stephen says the book calls this "adding to the shared pool of meaning." You set out the facts and your interpretation, then invite the other person to add their view and test it. Audrey calls this very practical because it gives people a model to follow.

31:24

Listener Questions: Frequency, Public Fights, and Marathon Arguments

David, from the podcast team, brings questions drawn from a Vice article.

What if we argue every week? Matthew's test is whether the arguments are evolving, both in what you argue about and in how you handle disagreement. Weekly arguments could mean both people have a lot to work on, or they could mean you're "wildly incompatible" and the arguments are revealing it. If the arguments are consistently fraught, he says, there may be individual work to do, because arguing is "a dance." One person can always choose to engage more calmly, so if you're fighting every week you have to look at yourself too. If both people have a growth mindset, the arguments should progress and change topics. The big warning sign, for him, is being stuck in "Groundhog Day": the same arguments, in the same way, with the same energy.

What if we argue in front of friends? Matthew calls this a "huge no-no" for him. Audrey agrees and finds it disrespectful and tactless, because now everyone is in your business. Matthew says it can feel like a betrayal, since it shows your partner they can't trust you with privacy around your struggles. It also shows a lack of impulse control and emotional regulation. He distinguishes this from asking to speak privately or stepping out of the room together, which he considers fine. You don't always have to fake cordiality until you get in the car. Stephen says an argument on the street bothers him less than one in front of people. Audrey adds compassion for anyone who has done this. She paraphrases a saying along the lines of "unspoken needs become future resentments." Arguing in front of friends, she suggests, often happens because someone is struggling to voice a need and lets it leak out, sometimes passively, when other people or drinks make it feel safer.

What if arguments go on for hours? Matthew acknowledges the exhaustion. Stephen describes relationships where the silent treatment lasted until the next day, so the whole day was lost to rumination. Matthew says he had arguments in his twenties that lasted days. Audrey mentions that she and Matthew once had an argument that stretched over two days early in their relationship, when they simply didn't talk. She says she was being "pigheaded" and wanted him to apologize. Audrey adds that when one person needs to resolve things now and the other needs space, it's very painful.

Matthew won't generalize, though. You can argue for hours with someone you're, or end up being, very happy with. He looks at context: is this generally a decent person who treats you and others well and stays broadly respectful even in the argument? He contrasts a "crime of passion," where things got heated and both people said things they regret, with someone who is "a scorpion" whose MO when threatened is to deliberately wound you. Stephen calls the latter "premeditated." Matthew says he has been in those situations, and that such a person "just destroys your confidence."

40:10

Vetoes: Never Threaten the Relationship, Never Attack Character

Audrey turns Matthew's point into a general rule: some things should be off-limits in arguments. She and Matthew have never threatened the relationship during a fight, never said anything like "maybe we're not right for each other." It's a strong boundary for them, and she says it lets them disagree "from a place of safety" and be more productive.

Stephen shares a counterexample. He was with someone who would say something like "well, that's it" during arguments. He took it seriously, believing they'd broken up, and then the next day an apology text would arrive. It happened with every argument.

Matthew says you shouldn't gloss over this, because the person is showing you what's normal for them. Saying something that would end a relationship in most people's world is, in theirs, "just another day at the office." If they came back and said they deeply regretted it, that it came from fear, and that they wouldn't do it again, then you'd be living in a universe of shared values and shared rules. If they just act as though nothing happened ("I can't wait to see you tonight"), then "we're not playing by the same rules," and you need to talk about it quickly. His suggested line is roughly: you're acting normal today, but going back to normal the day after telling me you don't want to be together isn't normal for me, and we need to talk about how this relationship can work, if it can.

Audrey adds that you can set this boundary early: "I get it, but never do that again… I can't be with someone who will just threaten a relationship and threaten my safety every time we fight." Her second veto is attacking someone's character. You can criticize a behavior, but saying "ultimately you are just a selfish person who only thinks about themselves" is hard to take back. Even after making up, the other person is left wondering whether you really think they're a bad person, and she believes that does long-term damage.

45:19

"Marry Someone You Argue Well With"

Matthew plays a clip from Instagram that he says was shared widely. In it he says not to marry someone you never argue with, but someone you argue well with. That means reaching good compromises, recovering in minutes or hours rather than "days of miserable toxicity," both being willing to come to the table, apologize, and soften, and not always relying on the same person "to save the two of you." He says you only learn these things by having hard conversations early. The goal isn't agreeing on everything but understanding each other's expectations and knowing you can handle differences.

He reads some comments. One commenter says they and their girlfriend never argue because both are empathetic and communicate well. Matthew answers that this may come down to definitions, since some disagreements he has called arguments wouldn't count as arguments by normal standards. Stephen jokes, "There's no plate throwing." Another commenter says they were married for 20 years to someone they never argued with and agree with the clip. Matthew and David read this as saying the absence of arguments wasn't a good thing. A third comment, from Kirby, is one Matthew especially likes: you probably don't argue perfectly either, so instead of waiting for a partner who does, look for someone willing to work with you on how you both argue.

48:20

Listener Voice Note: Fear of Rejection and the "Unhatched Egg"

A listener, Fabiana, suggests fear of rejection as a future topic. When they like someone and aren't sure it's mutual, they say, it's "always a state secret," to the point that the other person probably thinks they aren't interested at all.

Matthew promises a fuller episode and gives his immediate thoughts. He borrows Oliver Burkeman's idea of "imperfectionism" as a philosophy, as opposed to perfectionism. Liking someone has taken on an outsized importance, he argues, but someone you've only decided you like can't be that important yet. The people who become important are the ones who stick with you through thick and thin, show up, make your life better, and act as real teammates. Recognizing this, he says, gives you permission to be imperfect.

He compares it to procrastinating on a business idea. As long as it stays in your head, you never have to find out whether it's flawed, badly timed, or not understood by anyone. Relationships have to be tested in the real world too, and always imperfectly. Even if your first two minutes with someone are "pitch-perfect movie-level scripting," the next two won't be. You'll say something awkward or clumsy at some point.

Imperfectionism, he stresses, doesn't mean walking up and declaring your feelings. It means not letting the perfect be the enemy of the good: put yourself on the person's radar, notice something, have an exchange however small. "Something is always better than nothing." Comment on the music in the coffee shop or the muffin you keep being tempted by. Then see whether the person is responsive and engaged.

His central image is the unhatched egg. People treat those they like like golden eggs they keep nursing without cracking open, because as long as they never do, they can maintain that it could have been something. He urges valuing real life, "what's actually in the egg," and the search for something that shows promise, over unhatched eggs. The irony, in his view, is that the all-or-nothing approach robs Fabiana of opportunities, because they aren't even putting themselves in the game.

56:47

Petty or Profound: Sorting First-Argument Triggers

In the closing "Steve's Sleeves" segment, after some banter about whether Stephen actually enjoys Matthew's introductions (Stephen says it's part of a role he plays), Stephen runs a game. He gives scenarios that might trigger a first argument, and Matthew and Audrey decide whether each is petty (not worth it) or profound (a real issue that may or may not be fixable).

Loading the dishwasher is petty, though it prompts teasing. Matthew describes Audrey as grabbing fistfuls of dishes and throwing them into "an open void," and Audrey says he loads it like a museum piece.

One partner wants a luxury vacation while the other is aggressively paying off student debt is profound but fixable. Matthew says money-values conversations can end a relationship if handled badly. The person who feels safe paying off debt needs reassurance that there's a plan. The other person doesn't want to "indefinitely defer joy," and the two need to build a plan together.

"Your mom always nitpicks me" / "That's just how you know she cares" depends on tone, Matthew says. If both of you are rolling your eyes at a difficult mother, it's fine. If one partner is genuinely struggling and the other dismisses it, it's profound, and fixable only if the partner "joins your team." Not against the mother, but saying something like "I know I have a difficult mom… I see you and I'm with you."

A partner who overshares about the relationship with friends is profound. Audrey recalls being upset early on that Matthew shared more with his friends than she was comfortable with. Matthew says he'd forgotten. They talked it through and got on the same page, since Audrey felt they needed to be able to argue without all his friends hearing about it. Matthew adds a caveat: everyone needs people to confide in, and feeling you're never allowed to tell anyone what's going on is a mark of an abusive relationship, so this has to be applied in context.

Whether a hot dog is a sandwich or a sui generis item is petty, though Audrey briefly gets pulled into the debate.

Whether you must tidy the bedroom every morning is petty in their case. Stephen and Matthew tease Audrey about leaving it messy in the mornings, and they argue over whether Matthew is a "clean freak" or a "tidy freak." Audrey says there are levels: someone who likes order can tolerate some mess, but if one person is very orderly, the other very messy, and neither gives any ground, it can become profound.

A partner who ignores you for their friends when you go out and makes plans without you is profound but fixable, with limits. Audrey notes that at parties she and Matthew barely talk to each other and "debrief" afterward, and that giving others attention is healthy. It becomes profound when one person genuinely doesn't acknowledge the other and makes all the decisions about what happens next.

Teasing or banter that hurts your feelings is profound, both agree. Audrey says she and Matthew are both sensitive and work well partly because they're aware of each other's sensitivities. They have friends with more cutting humor who sometimes hurt her feelings. Matthew says you can be friends with people like that without being able to be in a relationship with them. Shared humor is profound, he says, and it's fixable only if things improve after you give feedback. The reverse also applies: if someone is easily offended by light jokes, that may simply be an incompatibility.

Matthew closes the game with a story about a friend known for acerbic wit. During a painful breakup, Matthew went to see him and asked him up front not to make his usual jokes because he couldn't handle them right then. The friend said, "Got it." Matthew's point is that this is communication: rather than letting a hurtful joke land and carrying resentment, he told a friend he loved what he needed that day. The episode ends with the hosts asking listeners to weigh in, among other things, on whether a hot dog is a sandwich.