By Anne Dranitsaris, Ph.D.

You know what I love? Asking a simple question like, “Do you know if this is due today?” and receiving a 10-minute monologue that covers everything from 9th-grade trauma to the fact that no one ever appreciates how hard they work.

I was just trying to figure out when the report was due.

Welcome to the world of everyday defensiveness—where no question is innocent, no reminder is gentle, and apparently, your entire personality is a carefully curated weapon designed to destroy egos and ruin lives.

Exhibit A: “Why do you always assume I’m wrong?”

Oh, the classic. This usually follows after you've said something like, “Actually, I think the meeting is at 3, not 2.”

You weren’t attacking anyone. You were trying to prevent them from missing a meeting. But now you’ve triggered a monologue about how no one ever listens to them, they feel invisible, and everyone always assumes they’re the village idiot.

Suddenly you’re not just clarifying a meeting time—you’re the CEO of Judgment International.

Exhibit B: The 17-Minute Answer to “Where’s the stapler?”

You: “Hey, have you seen the stapler?” Them: “No, but I’ve been so busy today, and I’m the only one who ever cleans up around here, and maybe if people didn’t move things without asking…”

Wait—what? I just needed to staple two pages together, not launch a psychological investigation.

Defensiveness turns every question into a referendum on their worth as a person. You weren’t questioning their identity—you were questioning the location of a stationary item. But somehow, you’ve stirred up a full-blown crisis of self.

Exhibit C: “Are you saying I’m stupid?”

No. You were saying, “I read this cool article about how our brains process uncertainty,” and now you’re being accused of passive-aggressively implying your friend is a Neanderthal.

Here’s the weird part: they probably do think about this stuff. They’re likely intelligent, sensitive, and thoughtful. But the minute you share something new, something that excites you, their inner 7th grader appears and yells, “Stop showing off!”

Suddenly, your joy in learning becomes an act of betrayal.

Exhibit D: “You’re attacking me!”

Also known as: “I gently reminded you we agreed to split the chores.”

What began as a small logistical note turns into a courtroom drama. They are now making their closing argument about how they “can never do anything right” and how your tone reminded them of their great-aunt Muriel who once shamed them in front of a hamster.

Meanwhile, you're holding a dish towel wondering what just happened.

A Day in the Life of a Walking Trigger

If this sounds familiar, congratulations! You are a fully functioning adult simply trying to communicate in a world where everyone thinks they’re under attack.

It’s not you. You’re not a monster. You didn’t wake up with a master plan to destroy everyone’s self-worth before lunch. But in a culture where self-worth is fragile and emotional wounds are wrapped in bubble wrap instead of being healed, almost anything can feel threatening.

So, what can you do?

Well, besides laughing about it with your therapist? Try this:

1. Don’t take the bait.

When someone goes defensive, don’t follow them into the emotional swamp. Stay calm. Smile kindly. Resist the urge to say, “Wow, that escalated quickly.”

2. Use disclaimers sparingly.

Sometimes, a gentle lead-in like “I’m just sharing this because I thought it was cool, not because I think you need it” can soften things. Just don’t start every sentence with “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” or you’ll sound like you do have something to hide.

3. Be clear, not careful.

You don’t need to over-edit yourself to protect fragile egos. Say what you mean kindly and directly. If they spiral, that’s their growth edge, not your responsibility.

4. Laugh internally. A lot.

Honestly, it’s the only way to survive. Picture their defensiveness as a tiny knight in armor trying to fight off a balloon. It’s not about you. It never was.

Final Thought: You’re Not the Villain

Just because you have thoughts, needs, reminders, or curiosity doesn’t make you a bad person. You are allowed to communicate without being assigned malicious intent. If someone assumes you’re trying to hurt them when you’re just living your life, hand them a mirror, not an apology.

Or, as I like to say: "If I wanted to devalue, diminish, or embarrass you, I’d be way more efficient about it."