Hammock Time: Fighting Fair on the Long Road of Love
It’s Monday evening—7 PM in New York City, but out here on the backroads of Louisiana, the sun is lazily dipping below the trees, casting the kind of golden light that makes everything look a little more forgiving.
This is how I wind down my Mondays now—tuning into “Mondays Beyond the Mic” with Dr. Elaine, Lady Dawn B and their guests, Terrance, Von, and Mike.
Their voices have become my weekly rhythm, my post-walk decompression, my soul check-in before the night settles in.
Tonight, I happen to be staying in a cabin-for-one, which is basically a glorified shed with a bed, an air conditioner that hums like it’s trying its best, two windows, a shelf, and a small front porch that makes a great front-row seat to the chaos of nature. Luxury, in its own rugged way.
Just outside is a very, very noisy Louisiana pond, and when I say noisy, I mean it’s the full Cajun swamp symphony. Frogs in a frenzy. Turtles having a splash-off. And one creature—I haven’t laid eyes on it, but I hear it—sounds like it’s either being murdered or auditioning for a reptilian opera, and it’s definitely the one who didn’t get the callback.
Still, there’s something oddly soothing about it all. Nature being exactly what it is. Me being exactly where I am. And this podcast—these voices—reminding me that even though I’m walking across America mostly alone, I’m not alone in the questions I carry.
They weren’t just talking about communication—they were talking about fighting fair in relationships.
The kind of fairness that has nothing to do with “winning” an argument, and everything to do with staying emotionally safe, present, and connected.
The kind that reminds us:
Creating emotional safety isn’t just about tone and timing—it’s about trust.
It’s about knowing your person might not process like you do.
That not everyone can untangle their emotions in real-time—and that doesn’t mean they’re shutting you out. It means they’re trying to make sense of what’s happening inside themselves before they hand it to you.
That’s a form of love. And it’s also a form of maturity.
As I walk across the country with Gertrude—my emotional support warrior, intuitive road therapist, and possibly my strength somedays —I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.
Walking gives you space. But so does love—when it’s done right.
One of the biggest lessons?
Fighting fair means not making someone else’s processing about your need for resolution.
We all want clarity. We all want to be seen, heard, validated.
But the people we love? They’re not always ready to give us that when we want it.
And the question becomes:
Can we wait with grace?
Can we love them while they work it out—not just after they’ve figured it out?
Because here’s the thing:
When we demand that our partner immediately explain their feelings or jump into a resolution before they’ve even untangled what’s happening inside them… we aren’t really asking for connection — we’re asking for comfort. Our own.
It sounds paradoxical, but one of the great lessons of loving someone is this:
Loving someone deeply doesn’t mean you won’t fight. It means you learn how to fight without breaking what you’re building.
Conflict is inevitable. But it’s what you do with it that defines the relationship.
Do you build from it?
Or burn everything down with it?
It’s about making the conflict mean something. It’s about not weaponizing someone else’s vulnerability in a moment of your own pain. And it’s about understanding that sometimes your person isn’t ready to be handed your emotions when they’re still drowning in their own.
That line from the podcast stuck with me:
“Sometimes people don’t want to talk about it right away. They need time—and they should be given as much time as they need.”
That was Terrance—and he wasn’t wrong.
Sometimes your person needs to gather themselves, emotionally, spiritually, mentally—before they can show up in the conversation as their best, truest self.
But then Dr. Elaine, with her perfectly-timed wit, followed up with a truth bomb that made me laugh out loud right there in my little cabin:
“Yes… but not 10 business days.”
That’s it. That’s the line.
That’s the tightrope we all walk.
Give grace—but stay present.
Honor space—but stay connected.
Because love can hold space—but it shouldn’t disappear into it.
So thank you—Dr. Elaine, Lady Dawn B, Terrance, Von, and Mike—for the honesty, the depth, and the humor. You turned my little cabin in the swamp into a masterclass in emotional maturity tonight. You reminded me that real connection doesn’t mean talking everything out right now—it means trusting that when the time is right, we’ll come back to the table. With open hearts. With kindness. With grace.
And hopefully, without needing to file an emotional HR complaint for ghosting.
https://www.youtube.com/live/5psXUPP_VM0?si=Ix53BAlEHDH5xdgn