I did a conflict-management styles activity and scored myself across five modes: Avoid, Compete, Accommodate, Compromise, and Collaborate.

I’m not treating this like a personality label. It’s more like a snapshot of what I tend to reach for when tension shows up — especially when I’m tired, overloaded, or trying to keep the wheels from coming off.

My scores

Style	Score	What it usually looks like in me
Avoid	6	I pull back to reduce chaos, delay the conversation, or wait for better timing.
Compete	5	I’ll push hard when something is non-negotiable, but it’s not my default.
Accommodate	6	I keep the peace, absorb discomfort, and “make it easier” for others.
Compromise	8	I aim for workable agreements: clear terms, shared sacrifice, a solution that moves.
Collaborate	8	I want the best answer, not the loudest answer. I’ll do the work to find it.

The headline: I’m a collaborator who compromises

The highest two scores tell the truth: I don’t enjoy “winning” fights. I enjoy solving problems.

When I’m at my best, I’m looking for the option where: (1) the facts are clear, (2) the roles are clear, (3) the next step is doable, and (4) nobody needs to bleed out emotionally to get there.

That’s the part of me that will sit down, pull up the rules, track what applies, and build a path forward — even if I’m annoyed, even if I’m tired, even if I want to throw my phone into a lake.

Where it gets tricky: Avoid + Accommodate are my “stress reflexes”

My mid-scores matter because they explain how I protect myself when conflict feels expensive. Avoiding isn’t always cowardice. Sometimes it’s triage. And accommodating isn’t always weakness. Sometimes it’s choosing the relationship over the moment.

But here’s the catch: both of these can quietly turn into a leak. I lose time. I lose energy. I lose clarity. And then I end up resentful — not because I’m cruel, but because I keep paying for peace with my own nervous system.

How Avoid shows up for me

• I delay the conversation because I don’t want it to spiral.
• I wait until I’m “more prepared,” which sometimes turns into never starting.
• I try to reduce contact so I don’t get pulled into reactive mode.

Avoiding is useful when I need space to cool down or gather facts. It’s not useful when it becomes a lifestyle.

How Accommodate shows up for me

• I smooth things over.
• I manage the room.
• I carry emotional load that wasn’t assigned to me.
• I keep things “polite” even when the situation isn’t actually respectful.

This is the mode I have to watch closely, because it feels like “being professional” — right up until I realize I’m the one absorbing the cost.

My lowest score: Compete (and why I’m not mad about it)

Competing gets a bad reputation, but it has a real purpose: sometimes you need to be firm. Sometimes you need to protect time, money, safety, or ethics. Sometimes you need a clean “no.”

My score tells me I don’t reach for that first. I’m more likely to negotiate or problem-solve. I’d rather build agreement than dominate.

The risk is obvious though: if I don’t use “compete” at all, then I don’t enforce boundaries — I just hope people will respect them on their own. Hope is not a strategy.

What I’m practicing now: firm + fair

The version of me I’m trying to build isn’t “more aggressive.” It’s more exact. Clear requests. Clear limits. Clear next steps.

My quick self-check (the one I’m keeping)

1. Is this a problem to solve, or a boundary to enforce?
2. Am I collaborating… or am I doing unpaid emotional labor?
3. If I say yes here, what am I saying no to?
4. If I avoid this, what does it cost me in a week?

A simple script I can use (so I don’t freestyle under stress)

Collaborate: “Here’s what I’m trying to accomplish. What are you trying to accomplish? Let’s find the overlap.”

Compromise: “Here are my non-negotiables. Here are my flex points. What are yours?”

Accommodate (on purpose): “I’m choosing to give on this one — and I’m not keeping score.”

Avoid (on purpose): “I’m not discussing this right now. I’ll revisit it at [time/date].”

Compete (clean): “No. That doesn’t work for me. Here’s what does.”

Bottom line

These scores don’t tell me who I am. They tell me what I reach for first. My job is to choose the right tool on purpose — instead of letting stress choose for me.

Godspeed.