Strong Back, Soft Heart: What I’ve Learned About Family Conflict

One of my sisters and I have been fighting since the day I was born.  That’s not an exaggeration.  We came into the world locked in a dance of tension—some invisible tug-of-war that neither of us knew how to step out of.

But for the last two big family vacations—and most recently, Thanksgiving—we haven’t fought.  Not once.

And I’ve been thinking about why.

It’s not that we’ve changed personalities or started agreeing on everything—trust me, we have not.  And it’s not because we’ve joined forces and done therapy and come out enlightened on the other side.

It’s because I’ve learned how to have a strong back and a soft heart.

What do I mean by that?

I mean: standing tall in my truth without bulldozing hers.
I mean: opening my chest to conflict without turning it into a war.
I mean: staying grounded instead of guarded.
I mean: showing up to family gatherings with an open heart, not armored to protect myself.

Here’s what that looks like in real life.

This past Thanksgiving, we were having a lighthearted conversation about how teenagers tend to destroy things.  I mentioned how my brother and sister once wrecked this Mustang my parents gave them.  Totally casual.

But my sister wasn’t having it.
“I never trashed the car,” she said, firmly.
From across the room, my brother chimed in, “False.”

And just like that, it was on.
She turned toward me, locked eyes, and said, “Oh, you want to start digging up dirt? Let’s talk about you.”

Now—the old me would’ve met her right there.  Matched her energy.  Thrown a dagger back.  Kept score.  Made a point.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I literally opened my arms and said, “Roast me.”

And that was it.
The tension broke.  The conversation dissolved.  No shouting, no storming off, no lingering resentment.  We all moved on.

That moment could’ve gone so differently.  If I had been already armored up—gotten defensive, sharp, cold—it would’ve escalated.  It always used to.

But staying soft and strong?  That changed everything.

Now Christmas is coming. And with it, all the beautiful, complicated, tender chaos of family dynamics.

So I’ll ask you the same question I’ve been asking myself:

How can you open up instead of armor up?

Not to be passive. Not to let things slide.
But to stay rooted in your power without throwing punches—or carrying the weight of being constantly on guard, just in case.

That’s the work.
And it’s worth it.

Whatever you may be celebrating this season, I hope you walk into the room with your chest open and your heart soft—offering the kind of strength that doesn’t need to prove itself.  The kind of strength 

With love, and a wide open chest,
Kaisha