What’s your default move?
When tension hits, with a partner, family, or a business partner, most of us reach for the same protective move every time. It made sense once.
Eight quick scenarios will show you yours, what it’s protecting, and what freedom from it could sound like.
Your partner says, “We need to talk.” Your first internal reaction:
A business partner questions one of your decisions in front of others. You:
Mid-argument, you notice you’re getting frustrated. You usually:
Someone close to you is upset, but it isn’t about you. You tend to:
The day after a fight that didn’t get resolved, you:
Someone gives you feedback that stings. You:
When you need something from someone close to you, you:
During tension, the thought most likely running in the background: Pick the closest:
Your default move: The Fixer.
“Let’s just solve it.”
Helianthus annuus. Turns to face the task, every time.
What it looks like
You go straight to solutions. Feelings can seem inefficient, so you skip to the plan. At work, that makes you valuable. At home, it can leave people feeling handled rather than heard.
What it’s protecting
Your sense of competence and control, and you from sitting with discomfort you don’t know what to do with.
What it costs
Connection. People stop bringing things to you, or they bring them and walk away feeling unseen.
The skill gap
Staying with a feeling, yours or theirs, long enough to understand it before you solve it.
What freedom sounds like
“Before I jump in with ideas, can I make sure I get what this is like for you?”
Attachment lens
Often leans avoidant: closeness managed through doing rather than feeling.
How we’d work with it
- KnowingMap what the fixing protects you from.
- WantingDecide what kind of partner and leader you want to be.
- MovingOne “understand first” conversation a week, then we debrief it.
Your default move: The Debater.
“That’s not fair.”
Cnicus benedictus. Armoured, for good reason, once.
What it looks like
Under tension, you build a case. You track facts, flag inconsistencies, and push until the other person concedes. Winning feels like finally being seen.
What it’s protecting
Your sense of being a good person, of being right, of not being blamed.
What it costs
The other person feels prosecuted, and the argument becomes the point. You win and still feel alone.
The skill gap
Validating your own frustration on the inside, so you can stay curious instead of needing them to agree.
What freedom sounds like
“Part of this feels unfair to me, and I notice I want to argue. Let me put that down for a second. I want to understand where you’re coming from.”
Attachment lens
Shows up on both sides: anxious (fighting to be understood) or avoidant (control through logic).
How we’d work with it
- KnowingFind the old rule that says being wrong is dangerous.
- WantingDecide whether you want to win or to be close.
- MovingPractise naming the frustration instead of litigating it.
Your default move: The Vault.
“I’ll go quiet until it passes.”
Matteuccia struthiopteris. Coiled tight until it’s sure.
What it looks like
When it heats up, you shut down. Short answers, leaving the room, waiting it out. You may tell yourself you’re keeping the peace.
What it’s protecting
You from overwhelm, from saying something you’ll regret, or from conflict you learned wasn’t safe.
What it costs
The other person feels abandoned and often escalates. Issues pile up unresolved, and people can’t reach you when it matters.
The skill gap
Noticing you’re flooded, saying so, and asking for a pause with a time you’ll come back.
What freedom sounds like
“I’m getting overwhelmed and I don’t want to shut you out. Can we take twenty minutes? I’ll come back and we’ll finish this.”
Attachment lens
Often leans avoidant: space as safety.
How we’d work with it
- KnowingLearn your early signs of shutdown.
- WantingDecide what you’d say if it felt safe to say it.
- MovingA pause-and-return agreement, practised on small disagreements first.
Your default move: The Pursuer.
“We need to fix this now.”
Ipomoea. Reaches for anything it can hold.
What it looks like
Distance feels unbearable, so you chase resolution: more texts, more explaining, apologizing for things you’re not sure you did, needing to know you’re okay.
What it’s protecting
You from disconnection, and from the fear of being left or rejected.
What it costs
You can overwhelm the other person, which often makes them pull back further, and you abandon your own needs to restore calm.
The skill gap
Settling your own nervous system, and trusting the connection can survive a pause.
What freedom sounds like
“I feel anxious when we’re disconnected. I’m going to take a breath. I trust we’ll sort this out when we’re both ready.”
Attachment lens
Often leans anxious: closeness as safety.
How we’d work with it
- KnowingCatch the alarm before it drives.
- WantingNotice what you need underneath the reassurance.
- MovingPractise self-soothing through short, planned pauses.
Email me my full result
This is a reflection, not a label or an assessment. Patterns are learnable, and unlearnable.