The Roland Rule: Which question helps me to address problems – without fear of conflict

I'll start with a confession: I hate arguing. I used to flirt with this trait, proud that I never cause disharmony. Drama queen, no, whispered internalized misogyny, you're not that. I'm at peace. But inside, a battle rages.

Because the older I get, the more angry I get. At others, but especially at myself. When I find myself in situations I don't want to be in, for example. When I hear things that hurt me but swallow them. When I go home with red cheeks and heartburn.

I know it's important to argue. It's more important than ever to express your opinion, especially when it contradicts someone else's. That's why my fervent "I hate arguing" has now morphed into a meek "I can't argue."

Just recently, I was sitting at dinner with my in-laws and friends and talking about the problem. My neighbor, Roland, looked at me in surprise. He—a journalist himself—said he loved precisely that about his job: the lively arguments, the debates in the editorial office. It warmed my heart. Yes, exactly, shouldn't I actually be able to do that? "First you argue, then you go for a beer together. That's the main thing," he said. I could feel the effect of that sentence. Is that possible?

When the banner for "Let's argue!" falls into my hands a few days later, I can't escape it: I have to learn this. So I call Birte Karalus, the author of the aforementioned work. Her name sounds familiar; she's a former talk show host, a job that earned her the nickname "Krawallus." She doesn't like it, I learn when I ask her about it—all the better for it, because I'm finally ready to be brushed up against the riot. "I don't like arguments either," Karalus disappoints. But she likes conflict even less.

I'm so obsessed with harmony that I can't even stand it when others argue. Even if, by their own admission, they're just debating. If we bring up political discussions at the family table, I stand on guard – and desperately try to change the subject. Ms. Karalus believes this is partly due to gender: " We women, in particular, are on a highway that says: You don't argue. Arguing is unpleasant. Then you're a quarrelsome person. Nobody wants that."

Avoidance is the logical consequence – out of fear of making mistakes, of being deprived of love, and, last but not least, of change. Yet change can actually be positive. At its best, an argument resolves issues, creates understanding for different perspectives on life, helps us move forward, and, according to Karalus, can even be a "relationship enhancer."

So do I have to have a real argument first to overwrite the fear with positive experiences? I can already see myself falling silent at a talk show booth while the person I'm talking to talks me into a brick wall. "That's emotion-driven ranting," Karalus immediately interjects, "we know that as an argument," but that's not how it should be. The counter-suggestion is: approach conflicts calmly and amicably. If you have good arguments, you don't need to raise your voice. In her experience, women are better at that than men anyway. " We are conflict-averse. When we enter into a conflict, we are solution-oriented," she shares her observation. We just aren't aware of it.

During our conversation, I notice Birte Karalus's profession as a mediator. She does give me specific advice when asked (see box). But instead of interfering, she primarily sets the tone. This begins with the language. Karalus prefers to call the argument a dispute. And she runs an open image campaign for the latter.

The best news for me: Learning to argue doesn't mean learning by doing. The most important training session is with myself. I'm supposed to imagine a conflict. Keyword: inner struggle. " What would be different in your life if this conflict were resolved? How would you feel every morning when you wake up?" asks Birte Karalus. If the resulting feeling is motivation enough, it's time to get into the ring.

In the ring, you rarely box against others. Every time your gut instinct kicks in, you want to say something but don't, you avoid an argument, you're fighting against yourself. Those who argue, in turn, learn to stand up for themselves. The most beautiful effect for Karalus: "You find your own voice." Of course, this may initially meet with resistance. An environment accustomed to comfort protests when things get uncomfortable. "Your entire system will say: what's going on? Why are you doing this?"

But even that might be a small hurdle in the long run: because those who clearly communicate their needs, values, and desires create an environment in which arguments can be safely held in the long run. This is what Birte Karalus took away from her time on talk shows: "I want to live freely. I want to have free relationships. And it must be permissible to say when you have a problem."

After the phone call, I drive to my parents and tell them about the conversation. Later that evening, we argue. I feel provoked. My father grins contentedly. Whether it's a self-fulfilling prophecy or he wants to train me—I don't know. But we have another beer together afterward.

Brigitte