When Emotion Overrules Logic

Most of the biggest fights in my marriage don’t start from something huge.

They start from something small.

A tone of voice.

A comment taken the wrong way.

A misunderstanding that could’ve been fixed in a minute — if only logic had been allowed in the room.

But that’s not how it goes.

Not in my marriage, at least.

Because when emotion takes over, logic doesn’t stand a chance.

And the weight of the blame goes both ways. I too have given in to emotion and against all logic gave in to feelings instead of taking a step back to think things over.

I used to not be this way but over time, it has become easier for me to slip into this quagmire of baser instincts just to survive one more day. I think this is a result of my constant exposure to anger and feelings akin to it.

Anyway…

The Start of Every Small War

I’ve noticed that in our fights, it never stays about the issue.

Let’s say I point out something practical — like why a certain decision doesn’t make sense financially, or why I prefer to do something a certain way.

I try to keep it objective, calm, direct. Like I’ve been trained to do for decades.

Before I know it, the conversation branches into every fight we’ve ever had.

Suddenly, we’re not talking about what’s happening now — we’re rehashing 2019, or that time I didn’t “listen enough” when she was upset about something completely unrelated.

It’s not even about solving anymore. It’s about winning.

And that’s where things fall apart. Because when emotion becomes the main weapon in every discussion, truth becomes irrelevant.

And as hard as I try not to, I fall for the same trick over and over and start doing the same ting. Bringing up past mistakes. Even though I know it’s a bad move. I stop myself but the floodgates have already been opened at this point.

I try silence. I try shutting it all off.

But my wife doesn’t respect personal space. Or letting things cool off.

And she says because it doesn’t resolve anything.

Yeah, it doesn’t because after cooling off, when we come back to the table for discussing matters, the same things happen all over again. It’s all subjective.

The Emotional Hijack

It’s like dealing with an emotional hijack. I try to explain something with reason — and she takes it as coldness. I bring up a fact — she sees it as invalidation.

She’ll cry, shout, or shut down.

And the more emotional she gets, the more defensive I become.

Suddenly, I’m not solving the problem anymore — I’m trying to calm her down while silently fighting my own frustration.

That’s when I realize — this isn’t a discussion.

It’s a test of endurance.

And no one wins those.

Ultimately I’ve resolved to just shutting her off as well.

How Emotion Turns the House Into a Battlefield

When logic leaves the room, everything becomes personal.

Every word, every sigh, every silence becomes ammunition.

“Why are you so quiet?

You don’t care?”
“Why are you answering back?

You’re angry?”

It becomes this endless loop — me trying to explain, her trying to feel heard, and both of us missing the actual point.

There’s no peace in that.

Only exhaustion.

And when exhaustion becomes the new normal, you stop wanting to talk.

Because every talk feels like walking into a courtroom where emotion is judge, jury, and executioner.

I’m Not the Enemy

Sometimes, I wish she’d see that I’m not her opponent.

I’m her partner.

I’m not trying to dominate her — I’m trying to build something that makes sense for both of us.

But logic feels like an attack to someone who’s ruled by emotion.

So even my calmness gets misread as indifference.

And when I try to explain that I’m just being practical — she says I’m “not being understanding.”

It’s a trap, really.

You can’t fix feelings with logic, and you can’t make logical sense out of emotions.

So, what do you do?

The Quiet After the Storm

After every argument, there’s this silence that sits heavy in the room. She’s crying. I’m drained. We both said things we didn’t mean.

And I’m left thinking — if we both want peace, why do we keep fighting like we’re enemies?

Because she’s emotional, yes.

But I’m guilty too. I’ve learned that when I meet her emotions with logic too soon, it feels dismissive.

And when I meet them with emotion, it becomes an explosion.

So I’ve had to learn when to stop explaining and start listening — not because she’s right, but because being right doesn’t fix a broken moment.

Sometimes peace is more important than proving a point.

And then I go off and be quiet. Too tired to resolve anything because what’s the point?

What I’ve Learned the Hard Way in College

I wasn’t always the most objective guy in the room.

There was a time I was the angriest person in the room. I was the one who would blow their top the quickest. The one who put up their fists to resolve matters in seconds through physical means.

I’m no longer that guy.

I haven’t been for a long time.

That’s because I was insecure for a very long time.

And then I went back to school to get my business degree and learned that in management not every argument needs to be solved in that moment.

Some things just need space.

When people get emotional, you need to learn to give them space. To get in their headspace. Think like them and seek to understand.

We don’t remove ourselves from an argument out of avoidance, but to respect the other person and protect the peace and professionalism in the workplace.

I’ve seen what happens when logic fights emotion head-on — no one walks away feeling understood.

I used to think that to show leadership, you always had to win the argument. Now I know it’s about respect and protecting the connection between you and the other person.

Progress only happens when people learn that their feelings are valid. That they are heard. And respected.

It took me decades to learn that.

And I’m currently relearning it.

When Peace Becomes the Goal

These days, I’m not looking to win anymore.

I’m looking to understand what triggers her emotions, and what triggers my defensiveness.

I’m learning that marriage isn’t just about who’s right.

It’s about how we recover after being wrong.

Emotion will always be part of it.

But it shouldn’t lead.

Because emotion without reason burns down everything it touches.

But emotion guided by logic?

That’s where peace lives.

Every marriage has this silent war between heart and mind.
Between what feels right and what makes sense.

And when emotion constantly overrules logic, both people start to lose trust — not in each other, but in the idea that they can ever truly be understood.

So now, I remind myself this: when she’s emotional, I don’t need to fix it.

I just need to stay steady.

Because one of us has to keep the ship from sinking.

And that’s what leadership in marriage really is — staying calm when emotion tries to take the wheel, and having enough sense to steer back toward peace.

God give me strength.PS. In case you’re new here, this is a continuation of my reflection on this article and its parts.