Is "Protecting My Peace" Becoming Emotional Avoidance?
Growing up, many of us lived in environments where, in order not to stir the pot, important questions weren't always asked.
Not because the questions weren't important. Not because nobody had an opinion. But because sometimes, asking these questions comes with consequences.
When your mum was upset about something, everyone knew better than to make comments that might make her even more upset, and you definitely didn't want to upset Dad either, because somehow, Dad being upset would eventually become Mum's problem, and now the entire atmosphere in the house had changed.
So, what did we do? We kept quiet.
Someone made a questionable decision? Silence.
Someone said something that wasn't quite right? "Maybe we should just leave it."
There was clearly something that needed to be discussed? "Let's not ruin the mood."
And honestly, I think some of us became very good at it. "Keeping the peace."
Fast forward to adulthood and we have found a beautiful, socially acceptable phrase for it: "I'm protecting my peace."
And to be fair, sometimes we absolutely should. There are people we need to distance ourselves from. There are conversations we don't need to have. There are situations where walking away is the healthiest thing we can do. You are allowed to have boundaries. You are allowed to say no. You are allowed to protect your peace.
But recently, I started wondering: "What if sometimes, protecting my peace is actually protecting me from discomfort?" And if that is the case, where exactly is the line?
Let's Talk About "Respect"
Because I think this conversation becomes even more interesting when we put it in our Nigerian, or broader African, context.
Many of us grew up hearing, "Respect your elders." And respect IS important. But sometimes, somewhere along the way, respect became less about treating someone with dignity and more about not doing anything that might hurt their feelings.
You disagree? = Disrespectful. You ask why? = Disrespectful. You say, "I don't think that's fair"? = Disrespectful. You say, "I need some space"? = "Ah… you will get space when you get to your husband's house."
If we grow up learning that another person's emotional discomfort is our responsibility, boundaries can feel incredibly threatening. You don't simply think, "This is what I need." You'll also be thinking, "But how will Mum feel? Will she be angry? Will she think I'm ungrateful? Will this cause tension? What if I'm misunderstood?"
Before you've even communicated your boundary, you've already started managing everyone else's emotions, and perhaps that is where some of us learned to "keep the peace."
That pattern doesn't stay in childhood, either. It tends to follow us into who we choose not to confront as adults too; the sibling whose decisions everyone can see but nobody mentions, the partner we're suspicious of but don't ask.
Let's Get a Little Technical
Okay, psychology hat on for a minute.
Experiential avoidance refers broadly to attempts to avoid, suppress, control, or escape uncomfortable internal experiences such as difficult emotions, thoughts, memories, or physical sensations. Research has linked persistent experiential avoidance with a range of psychological difficulties, and psychological approaches such as Acceptance and Commitment Therapy emphasize developing greater psychological flexibility rather than organizing our lives entirely around avoiding discomfort.
In simple English: sometimes avoiding something works really well, for about five minutes, and then it doesn't.
You don't have the conversation, the anxiety drops, and you feel relieved. Your brain goes, "Ah. That worked." So next time, you avoid it again, and again… but the problem is still there.
This makes sense when we think about how some of us grew up. Learning to avoid conflict may have been a very understandable adaptation. As a child, you may not have had the power or safety to say, "I think we should communicate about this more assertively." But the child who learned when people are upset, I need to make myself smaller can become the adult who thinks when people are upset, I need to disappear.
But Is Keeping Quiet Always a Bad Thing?
No. And I think this is where we need some balance, because I don't want us to swing from one extreme to another. We don't want to go from "I must tolerate everything to keep everyone happy" to "I don't owe anyone anything, I'm protecting my peace." Neither extreme is particularly healthy.
Sometimes silence is wisdom. Sometimes walking away is wisdom. Sometimes you genuinely need to pick your battles, because not every disagreement needs your energy, and not everyone deserves access to you.
So the next time you're thinking about skipping a conversation, ask yourself: "Is this harmful, or is it simply uncomfortable?"
Let's Play a Game
I'll give you a situation. You tell me: boundary, or avoidance?
Scenario 1: Your partner does something that genuinely hurts you.
How do you respond?
(a) "I'm upset right now and I need some time before we talk about this. But I do want us to come back to the conversation."
(b) You disappear and refuse to talk about it.
Ding ding ding … if you said (a), you'd be very correct, because you're taking space to regulate yourself, not abandoning the conversation. Option (b) feels like protection in the moment, but it leaves the hurt unaddressed and the relationship no closer to repair.
Scenario 2: Your friend gives you feedback you don't like.
(a) You sit with the discomfort, ask a clarifying question, and decide afterward what you agree with and what you don't.
(b) You immediately decide, "I don't need that kind of negativity in my life," and quietly start pulling away.
If you said (a), same energy as before, you're allowing room for something uncomfortable without treating it as a threat. Option (b) feels like a boundary because it's phrased like one, but notice what it's actually doing: it's not naming what you need, it's shutting the door before you've even figured out if there's something to consider. That's the tell. Because sometimes the uncomfortable feeling we have isn't a threat to our peace, it could be an opportunity for growth.
Boundary, or Wall?
A boundary says: "This is what I will and will not accept." A wall says: "Nothing and nobody gets close enough to hurt me."
The difference? Boundaries can protect us while still leaving room for connection. Walls protect us by keeping connection out altogether.
If you've been hurt, you may need distance. But eventually, it may be worth asking: "Is this wall still protecting me, or is it preventing me from experiencing the connection I actually want?"
Assertive Communication
Maybe what we were missing was assertive communication. I think this is where the conversation comes full circle. Many of us weren't taught how to have difficult conversations. We were shown how to avoid them, or dive in arms blazing.
The APA describes assertiveness as a communication style in which people express their feelings and needs directly while maintaining respect for others. Assertiveness isn't aggression. It isn't disrespect. And it isn't silence.
It is being able to say: "This is what I feel." "This is what I need." "This is what I am willing to do." You can communicate all of that without trying to hurt the other person.
Assertive communication isn't simply getting your point across, it also leaves room for the other person to respond. You may still disagree. You may still decide to walk away. But at least you're responding to what they actually said, rather than the conversation you imagined they would have.
It means having the conversation you've been avoiding, because there are things on the other side of discomfort that we don't get to experience if we always run from it: repair, understanding, clarity, intimacy, and growth. Sometimes, a relationship becomes stronger because two people finally decided to stop guessing and start talking.
How Do We Know Which One We're Doing?
The next time you feel tempted to walk away, pause, not to shame yourself, just to get curious. Ask yourself:
Am I protecting myself from harm, or from discomfort? If you're dealing with abuse, intimidation, manipulation, or a genuinely unsafe situation, creating distance can be an important act of self-protection. But if you're simply nervous about an honest conversation, discomfort doesn't necessarily mean danger.
Am I setting a boundary, or am I trying to control someone else's response? You can communicate a boundary, but you cannot control whether someone is disappointed by it. Someone being upset by your boundary does not automatically mean your boundary is wrong.
What am I afraid will happen if I speak? Sometimes the fear underneath our silence tells us more than the silence itself.
Have I actually communicated clearly? Have you told the person what you need, or have you expected them to figure it out? Sometimes we're angry that someone didn't respect a boundary we never communicated.
Am I willing to hear their side too?
Final Thoughts
Maybe "protecting my peace" isn't the problem. Maybe we just need to become more intentional about what we mean when we say it. Because your peace deserves protection, but so does your growth. So does your ability to communicate. So does your capacity to love and be loved.
The goal isn't to become someone who is never uncomfortable. The goal is to become someone who can sit with discomfort long enough to decide: "Is this something I need to walk away from, or something I need to work through?"
And perhaps that is the real difference between protecting your peace and avoiding your life.
Sometimes peace is walking away. Sometimes peace is saying no. Sometimes peace is creating distance. And sometimes peace looks like taking a deep breath, sitting across from someone you love, and saying: "Okay. This is uncomfortable. But let's talk about it."
Because maybe protecting your peace isn't always about keeping the waters still. Maybe sometimes, it's about learning that you can survive a little turbulence without abandoning yourself.
References
American Psychological Association. (2018). Assertiveness. APA Dictionary of Psychology.
American Psychological Association. (2018). Boundary. APA Dictionary of Psychology.
Hayes, S. C., & Wilson, K. G. (1994). Acceptance and commitment therapy: Altering the verbal support for experiential avoidance. The Behavior Analyst, 17(2), 289–303.
Wang, Y., Tian, J., & Yang, Q. (2024). Experiential avoidance process model: A review of the mechanism for the generation and maintenance of avoidance behavior. Psychiatry and Clinical Psychopharmacology, 34(2), 179–190.