When Two People Don’t Live the Same Story
Serge Dumont
How a relationship can slowly become strained when no single person can fully explain the whole story.
Imagine two colleagues who have worked together for several years.
At first, things go fairly well.
Then small things begin to pile up.
One feels that the other often interrupts during meetings…
The other simply thinks they are participating enthusiastically.
One sometimes feels that their ideas are not really acknowledged…
The other has never intended to dismiss anything.
None of this seems serious enough to justify a real conversation.
So they carry on… until one day, an ordinary remark brings up much more than the remark itself.
«I haven’t felt truly valued for quite some time.»
The other person is genuinely surprised.
And that can be true as well.
In relationships, this distinction is often much harder to see.
When someone tells us:
Both realities can exist at the same time... This is where many conversations become difficult.
Because if I acknowledge that you felt rejected, does that mean I rejected you?
If I acknowledge that I may have misunderstood certain behaviours, does that make what I felt any less real?
We easily get the impression that we have to choose.
And yet, a relationship can hold several partial truths without any one of them explaining everything... Intention and impact are not the same thing
Imagine stepping backward without looking and accidentally stepping on someone’s foot.
You can say:
... leaves room for both.
It does not mean:
So we explain our intention.
We want to avoid being associated with something we never meant to do.
But the other person may simply be trying to have their experience acknowledged.
A sentence such as:
Sometimes we also arrive with our own history…
Sometimes, we are not reacting only to what has just happened… We also perceive situations through the lens of our own history.
Experiences that have affected us.
Places within us that have become more sensitive.
Someone who has often felt left out… may notice signs of exclusion very quickly.
Someone who has experienced a great deal of criticism… may be more sensitive to certain remarks.
Someone who has lived through difficult conflicts… may hesitate for a long time before saying what is bothering them.
This does not mean that what they are experiencing now is false.
But their past can influence the way they understand what is happening today.
Our history can sometimes make certain situations feel more intense.
And this idea requires a great deal of nuance.
Saying:
Two people… One relationship.
And yet, two different stories.
Which one is true?
Perhaps there is not always just one answer to that question.
Two different experiences can exist at the same time
When conflict arises, we naturally try to understand what «really happened.»
Who misunderstood?
Who should have spoken up?
Who crossed a line?
Who needs to acknowledge something?
These questions can matter… But they rarely tell the whole story.
One person may never have intended to hurt the other and still have caused hurt.
Another may have genuinely suffered while also misunderstanding some of the other person’s intentions.
«But it still hurt.»
«That comment hurt me»
we may hear:
«You meant to hurt me.»
«That wasn’t my intention, but I can understand that you experienced it that way.»
An old wound and a very real problem in the present can exist at the same time.
But there is another, less comfortable nuance:
An emotion can be completely real… without our interpretation being completely accurate.
I can genuinely feel rejected… even though the other person was not trying to reject me.
I can genuinely feel criticized… even though an awkward remark may have had a different intention.
The emotion remains real… but it does not, by itself, prove what the other person intended.
When what we keep inside begins to feel heavier
«Why didn’t you tell me?»
This question often comes up when discomfort finally surfaces after months, sometimes years… and it makes sense.
How could someone adjust something they did not know was causing a problem?
We all have some responsibility for what we choose to express and what we keep to ourselves.
But another question can also help us understand what happened:
Sometimes we stay quiet because we want to avoid conflict.
Because each small thing seems too minor to bring up.
Because we do not yet fully understand what we are feeling.
Because we do not always know how to express it.
And sometimes because we imagine the other person will become defensive, minimize our experience, or struggle to hear what we are trying to say.
There is not always one single explanation.
But when nothing is discussed, small events do not necessarily disappear.
They can begin to connect… to pile up one on top of another.
An oversight.
A remark.
A missed invitation.
A slightly cold conversation.
Taken separately, each event may seem insignificant. Together, they can slowly form a much heavier story:
«I had no idea you felt that way. Why didn’t you ever tell me?»
«I didn’t mean to hurt you.»
And that can be true.
The other person can answer:
«You’re right about everything.»
And the reverse is also true.
«My intention doesn’t erase what you experienced.»
It simply means:
Hurting someone does not necessarily mean that we intended to cause them harm.
«Your history may be influencing the way you see this»
is not the same as saying:
«You’re imagining all of this because of your past.»
Was it easy, in this relationship, to talk about what was bothering us?
«I don’t really matter.»
On the other side, another story may begin to form:
«Everything I do seems to be misunderstood… I feel like I can never get it right.»
From that point on, every new event arrives carrying the weight of everything that came before.
One person reacts to the latest incident… The other reacts to ten accumulated incidents.
They are talking about the same event... but not quite the same story.
Over time, the conflict may stop being only about what happened.
One person may be hoping to hear:
«I understand that you were hurt, and I’m sorry.»
The other:
«I understand that you never meant to make me feel that way.»
These two needs are not incompatible… but they can become so when each person fears losing something by acknowledging the other.
«If I acknowledge your pain, will you decide that everything was my fault?»
«If I acknowledge your intentions, will you think I imagined the whole thing?»
So each person protects their own story.
Not necessarily out of pride… but because that story may also protect something important:
Their dignity,
Their need to feel understood,
The way they see themselves,
Or simply the feeling that their pain deserves to be heard.
And sometimes, each person is waiting for a small sign from the other… something that helps them feel safe enough to lower their guard a little and speak more honestly.
Recognizing our part with fairness
The idea of «shared responsibility» can sometimes be misunderstood… because it does not mean dividing blame equally.
Some situations are deeply unbalanced. Some behaviours have far more impact than others. In situations involving violence, abuse, intimidation, or manipulation, responsibility lies first and foremost with the person engaging in those behaviours.
But in many ordinary conflicts, shared responsibility can be understood in another way:
Looking honestly at what belongs to us in the story, while allowing the other person to take responsibility for examining their own part.
Sometimes, our part is not obvious at first.
It may be a silence that settled in over time.
An expectation that was never clearly expressed.
An interpretation we became certain was true.
A defensive or rushed reaction.
Or simply a different way of experiencing the same situation.
The idea is not to search for blame… but to see whether there is some small part of the story we might be able to look at differently.
These possibilities can help us better understand how the situation developed.
Then comes a more personal question… Recognizing our part without losing sight of what we experienced
Acknowledging our own part can sometimes feel uncomfortable… because we may fear that doing so will minimize what we went through or give the other person complete justification.
«If I admit that I could have spoken sooner, does that change everything else?»
«If I see that I became defensive, does that mean the other person was right about the whole situation?»
But recognizing our part can remain very simple.
For example:
«Maybe I could have brought it up sooner.»
or
«I can see that I became defensive very quickly.»
That does not erase what we experienced.
It does not mean the other person was right about everything.
It simply allows us to acknowledge one specific part without having to choose between our reality and theirs.
Perhaps responsibility becomes easier to approach when it feels less like an accusation and more like a question:
«What, in all of this, might genuinely belong to me?»
Three ways to create a little more space in the conversation
There is not always a perfect way to repair a relationship.
Some conversations need time. Others need clear boundaries.
But sometimes, a few simple changes can shift the way we speak to one another… and create a little more room for understanding.
1. Say what happened for you
A sentence such as:
«You never respect me.»
… already contains a conclusion about the other person.
Sometimes, we can try:
«In some situations, I don’t feel respected.»
The difference may seem small… but the second sentence begins by describing what happened inside us.
It gives the other person more room to hear before reacting.
2. Check an interpretation
We all have a tendency to fill in the blanks…
A short message can feel cold.
An oversight can feel like a lack of interest.
Silence can feel like rejection.
Our impression may be accurate, while still containing some interpretation.
So a question can help:
«When that happened, I understood it this way. Is that what you meant?»
The answer may provide information we were missing… and that information can significantly change the way we understand what happened.
3. Acknowledge one specific thing
Sometimes, simply acknowledging one specific point can already soften the conversation.
«Looking back, I can see that I could have brought this up sooner.»
«I understand that this comment may have hurt you.»
«I think I became defensive very quickly when you tried to explain what you were experiencing.»
A small, sincere acknowledgment can sometimes open more space than a long explanation... it may allow something important to finally be heard.
Three questions to help you see more clearly
If a difficult relationship comes to mind… take a sheet of paper.
Begin by looking at what each person may have experienced.
Write down three things...
1. What I experienced
• What hurt me, bothered me, or felt missing?
• What did I understand about the situation at the time?
Write what feels true for you, as honestly as possible.
2. What the other person may have experienced
Now try looking at the same situation from their side.
Ask yourself:
• What might they have understood about what happened?
• What might they have felt?
• What may have mattered to them in that moment?
• Is there another way to understand their words or behaviour?
• Could what I experienced as rejection, coldness, or an attack have another possible explanation?
The goal is simply to see whether another way of understanding the situation might exist.
Sometimes, a sentence we experienced as criticism may have been awkward rather than malicious.
Silence we interpreted as indifference may have come from discomfort, exhaustion, or simply not knowing what to say.
A defensive reaction may have come from feeling accused rather than from refusing to listen to us.
The exercise is simply about allowing one question to enter a place where certainty may have settled in:
«What if there were another way to understand what happened?»
3. What part did I play in what developed between us?
This may be the most difficult question…
Not:
«What am I guilty of?»
but
«Is there anything I might have done differently?»
Maybe speaking sooner.
Asking a question instead of assuming.
Listening a little longer before responding.
Expressing more clearly what you needed.
Or recognizing today that there were things you did not fully see at the time.
Your part may also be smaller than you once thought.
What matters is simply looking at it honestly.
Then I invite you to finish with one final question:
«What can I do differently now, even if the other person does not change?»
Perhaps this is where awareness becomes genuinely useful…
Because what the other person understands, acknowledges, or changes ultimately belongs to them.
On our side, there is still some room to choose how we enter the relationship.
And sometimes, that is already a great deal…
These themes are explored in greater depth in my personal development and self-therapy books.
This reflection also aligns with the vision presented in my Editorial Philosophy.
Furthermore, to better understand the journey that informs these writings, you can read «Getting to Know Me.»