Listen, I’m going to level with you. Arguments are exhausting. Disagreements are tiresome. Having to actually process another human being’s perspective while simultaneously defending your own? Absolutely barbaric. Fortunately, I’ve discovered the ultimate life hack that will revolutionize your relationships, alienate your loved ones, and cement your reputation as someone who peaked emotionally in kindergarten: simply announce “I don’t do conflict” and physically remove yourself from the conversation mid-sentence.
This isn’t avoidance. This is boundaries. This is self-care. This is you, courageously protecting your energy from the toxic negativity of people who expect you to engage with them like a functioning adult.
The Technique: A Step-by-Step Guide
The beauty of this method lies in its simplicity. When someone approaches you with a concern, grievance, or god forbid, hurt feelings, wait until they’re approximately halfway through their second sentence. This timing is crucial. Too early and you seem jumpy; too late and you might accidentally hear their point. Then, with the serene confidence of someone who just discovered meditation last week, hold up one hand like a traffic cop and declare: “I don’t do conflict.”
The key is the volume. You need to say it loudly. Loud enough that your voice drowns out whatever they were saying. Loud enough that neighbors pause their dinner conversations. Loud enough that it echoes in the hollow space where your emotional intelligence should be.
Then—and this is where the magic happens—you leave. Not after they respond. Not after allowing them to process your announcement. You pivot on your heel like a Victorian gentleman who just had his honor questioned and you exit. Door slam optional but recommended for dramatic effect.
Why This Works (It Doesn’t)
Now, some naysayers might argue that this approach is “immature” or “emotionally manipulative” or “exactly what a toddler does when you tell them it’s bedtime.” These people are clearly conflict-seekers who want to drag you into their drama vortex. Pay them no mind.
The genius of declaring you “don’t do conflict” is that it sounds vaguely therapeutic. It has the aesthetic of a boundary without any of the actual self-awareness that boundaries require. Real boundaries involve knowing your limits and communicating them clearly while still respecting others. Your method involves none of that exhausting nuance. You’re simply opting out of the entire social contract, like someone who brings salmon to the office microwave and acts confused about why everyone’s upset.
Applications in Daily Life
The versatility of this technique cannot be overstated. Your partner wants to discuss the fact that you forgot their birthday for the third consecutive year? “I don’t do conflict.” Walk away. Your boss needs to address your pattern of showing up forty minutes late every day? “I don’t do conflict.” Leave the meeting. Your roommate is concerned that you’ve been eating their groceries and replacing them with increasingly passive-aggressive Post-it notes? You already know what to do.
Even better, this method works for conflicts you started yourself. Cut someone off in traffic and they have the audacity to honk? Roll down your window, shout “I DON’T DO CONFLICT,” and speed away. It’s basically a get-out-of-accountability-free card for every situation in your life.
The Long-Term Benefits (Spoiler: There Aren’t Any)
Let’s talk about what happens when you consistently deploy this strategy. First, you’ll notice that people stop bringing problems to you. Victory, right? Well, they’ve stopped bringing problems to you because they’ve accepted that you’re fundamentally unavailable for any interaction requiring emotional labor beyond “pretty good, you?”
Your relationships will become wonderfully superficial. No more exhausting heart-to-hearts. No more growth through difficult conversations. No more of that pesky intimacy that comes from working through challenges together. Instead, you’ll cultivate a circle of people who either enable your behavior or care so little about you that they’re not invested enough to argue. It’s win-win, assuming you don’t value meaningful human connection.
Eventually, you might find yourself wondering why you feel so isolated, why your relationships never seem to deepen, why people describe you with words like “unreliable” and “emotionally stunted.” But don’t worry—you can resolve these feelings by declaring to yourself in the mirror: “I don’t do conflict.” Then walk away from your own reflection. Problem solved.
The Alternative (For the Weak)
Of course, there’s an alternative approach that some radical people advocate for. They suggest actually staying in the room when someone expresses a concern. They recommend listening—truly listening—to understand rather than to respond. They propose acknowledging the other person’s feelings, taking responsibility for your actions when appropriate, and working together to find a resolution.
These people also suggest that real self-care isn’t about avoiding discomfort but about developing the emotional resilience to navigate it. They’ll tell you that “I need time to process this and we can talk later” is different from “I’m fleeing this conversation because I refuse to be held accountable.” They might even argue that conflict, when handled maturely, can actually strengthen relationships rather than destroy them.
But where’s the drama in that? Where’s the theatrical exit? Where’s the satisfaction of leaving someone mid-sentence, mouth agape, watching you disappear like a commitment-phobic magician?
In Conclusion (Not That I’m Staying to Debate It)
So there you have it: the definitive guide to never having to engage with criticism, feedback, or the reasonable expectations of other human beings. Will this make you a better person? No. Will it improve your relationships? Absolutely not. Will it allow you to maintain the comfortable delusion that every problem in your life is caused by other people being “too dramatic”? One hundred percent.
Remember, emotional maturity is overrated. Personal growth is exhausting. And taking responsibility for how your actions affect others? That’s practically Victorian-era thinking. You’re a modern person with modern solutions to ancient problems. And that solution is running away while shouting about your boundaries.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I sense this article might generate some feedback, and well—
I don’t do conflict.