“Don’t Walk Away From Me!” he yelled. So She Did.

Rina froze in the kitchen.

He hadn’t exactly raised his voice. But the words landed hard.

“Why is this place always a disaster?”
“You’re always overreacting… always making everything about you.”
“This is exactly why I don’t bother talking to you.”

It started with a complaint about the mess.  Shifted into an attack on her character.  And ended with a final, dismissive blow.

All she heard… was that she was too much and not enough all at once.

She stood there, stunned, anger bubbling.
And before she could even think, the words came spilling out. 

She defended.

She explained. She had to.

“I’m not twisting anything!”
“You’re the one who said that, don’t pretend you didn’t!”
“Maybe if you actually helped once in a while, it wouldn’t be such a disaster!”

Her words flew out quickly. Needing to correct the injustice.

Needing to be heard.

And just like every other time, it spiraled.  Words sharpened. Voices raised. Accusations hurled.
Connection shattered.

In coaching, she admitted:

“I know it only makes things worse… I hate how fast I go there. But it’s like I can’t help it.”

The need to defend was knee-jerk. The anger was protective. She just couldn’t not respond.

It felt unbearable to be misunderstood. To be accused of something that wasn’t true. To be treated like she was crazy.

Every time he made her feel small, she had to push back. To correct. To fight for herself.

“I get so hurt, so fast. And then I get angry. And I have to say something.”

It was a reflex.  But it never made things better. It only left her more drained. More ashamed. More alone.

So she practiced something radical.

Just this:

“Ouch.”
And then… walked away.

Not suppression. No explaining. No correcting. No proving. Just truth and vulnerability.

The first few times she tried it, it got worse.

He followed her down the hallway.

“Don’t walk away from me!”
“You think you're so much betther than me?”
“Oh, now you’re the victim?”

Her chest pounded. Everything inside her screamed: Turn around. Defend. Respond.  Make him understand how much it hurt.

But she didn’t. She stepped into the bedroom. Closed the door. Sat on the bed and let the the tears came fast and hot. And for the first time, her reaction didn’t betray her dignity.

Once her tears were spent and her emotions had finished having their time in the sun, she chose not to stay in the loop of his words or her pain. She decided to take ownership of her energy, not because it was fair, but because it was freeing.

And when she heard the little feet and voices on the other side of the door, she paused.  She could walk out bitter and brittle… or she could create a new energy.

She decided that her mood and her happiness were up to her - not him. She could either exit her room to greet the little people waiting on the other side of the door feeling like a depressed victim and inevitably take it out on them or she could create a vibe of joy.

She turned on her favorite song, loud. Did a few jumping jacks to clear her head and pump up her mood. Took a breath. Touched up her mascara. And walked out rooted in her own strength, not his behavior.

This is the secret about vulnerability:

It doesn’t always feel good at first.

Sometimes, when you stop playing your part in the cycle, the other person gets louder. Scarier. More desperate.

That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means the script is rewriting.

He didn’t become sweet overnight.

There were still moments of harshness, tension, and silence.

And eventually, one night, after she whispered “ouch” and left the room…

He didn’t follow. He didn’t shout. He sat alone, left with the shame of his own words.

And for the first time, he felt the sting of them.

Vulnerability

This kind of honesty takes immense courage. 

Vulnerability is not:

❌ Explaining yourself
❌ Convincing him to see your pain
❌ Absorbing verbal cruelty and pretending it’s okay

Vulnerability is:

✅ Naming your pain simply
✅ Protecting yourself with quiet strength
✅ Stepping out of the storm, without needing to be right

“Ouch” is not manipulation. Walking away is not a game.

It’s truth with boundaries. And he doesn't have to like it for it to be transformative.

If you feel like your heart is being bruised by someone who “doesn’t mean it,” and you don’t know how to make it stop…

You’re not too sensitive.  You’re not overreacting.
You’re just ready for something different.

Let’s talk about what’s really going on and how you can feel safer, steadier, and more yourself again.

👉 Schedule a free call with me

You’re allowed to honor your pain, protect your peace, and choose softness — no matter what he chooses. 💗