What Law School Didn’t Teach Me About Conflict
Reflections from 13 years in practice—and why your conflict threshold matters
This weekend marked 13 years since I was called to the bar (the picture - above - even has the Instagram filter du jour, as it were).
Facebook reminded me, of course—complete with the classic blurry photos, uneven bangs and a whole lot of idealism. I’m not compliment-fishing when I say this, but those photos made one thing crystal clear: I still had so much to learn.
And not just about the law.
What Law School Missed: Managing You
Any lawyer will tell you the learning doesn’t stop after your call. But what no one tells you is how much personal growth it takes to stay in this work—and to do it well.
Back then, I didn’t know how to advocate for myself without spiralling.
I didn’t know how to navigate a high-stakes conversation without freezing, fawning, or flipping into full-on litigation mode (which, for the record, is not a great way to win hearts and minds).
Law school taught me how to argue. It didn’t teach me what to do when I was emotionally flooded.
It didn’t teach me how to:
Stay grounded when adrenaline is high.
Hold my position without burning bridges.
Separate the story in my head from what’s actually happening in the room.
And absolutely no one talked about what comes after the conflict—the crash, the replay loop, the regret. What I now call a conflict hangover.
You’re Not Broken—You’re Just Unregulated
For years, I assumed my struggle with conflict meant there was something wrong with me. That I was just too sensitive. Too reactive. Too emotional.
So I tried to hide it.
I compensated with strategy. I focused on saying the “right thing,” doing the “smart thing,” presenting the “strong front.” I figured if I could just master the logic of the situation, everything else would fall into place.
But here’s what I’ve learned since:
When you’re in conflict—really in it—your vision narrows. Literally. Your nervous system hijacks your perspective. You think you have all the facts, but you don’t. You’re running on fear, on bias, on adrenaline.
And unless you know how to manage yourself, you’ll only ever be reacting. Not resolving.
That’s why doctors don’t treat family members. That’s why lawyers don’t represent themselves. And that’s why emotional self-regulation isn’t just a wellness buzzword—it’s a strategic imperative.
Let’s Talk About Conflict Thresholds
Everyone has one. A point at which conflict stops being manageable and starts feeling personal, threatening, destabilizing.
If the conflict stays below that threshold, you can stay clearheaded. Calm. Strategic.
But when it crosses the line?
That’s when people unravel. Panic. Lash out. Shut down.
My threshold used to be low. And I masked it well—with sharpness, humour, overfunctioning. But underneath? I was afraid. Afraid of being misunderstood. Of failing. Of being seen as incompetent or too emotional.
Now? My threshold is a lot higher. And it’s not because I stopped being me. It’s because I trained for it.
What Changed (and What Can Change for You)
I trained myself to:
Slow down, even when my heart’s racing.
Resist the urge to catastrophize.
Listen through the noise of my own ego and fear.
Stay with discomfort—without letting it control my response.
And here’s the truth: it changed everything.
Not just in courtrooms, boardrooms or negotiations—but in friendships, partnerships, family dynamics.
Because conflict isn’t rare. We’re in some form of it constantly. Researchers estimate the average person navigates 4 to 7 negotiations every day. That’s 4 to 7 potential conflicts. Daily.
And that doesn’t count the internal ones—the ones you don’t say out loud, but carry in your body.
So yes, this post is a reflection on my 13-year journey in law.
But it’s also a reminder: you can be highly competent, wildly successful, and still feel totally thrown by conflict.
That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.
And learning how to manage that reaction—not avoid it—is where your power lives.
PS: Conflict Doesn’t Have to Spiral
If you’re feeling stuck in a conflict right now—personally or professionally—and need a way forward that doesn’t involve burning bridges or spiralling after the fact, the Conflict Clinic is open.
Come in with a mess. Leave with a map.
