Don’t Let Your Big “But” Get in the Way

Abigail* had the biggest “but” I’ve ever seen.

She joined my outpatient program after attending rehab for alcoholism. Every morning, I walked into the lecture room and saw her in the front row. She would be scrolling on her phone silently while everyone else talked.

During the lesson, she sat perfectly straight, elbows squared, waiting with anticipation. She would listen for any sign of weakness from the counselor or our peers. When she found an opening, her hand shot in the air, and out came the “buts.”

“Yes, but…”
”That makes sense, but…”
“That may work for you, but…”

Then, in group therapy, we would share with honesty and vulnerability - naming our fears, relating to each other’s experiences, and letting ourselves be seen. Despite our differing backgrounds, we would connect over a shared struggle with addiction.

Without fail, Abigail would interject with a “but,” slamming the door on the conversation. The mood would shift. The speaker would retreat. The counselor would sigh. The rest of the room would cringe. Abigail would smirk.

I call them “but people.”

You probably know a few. They interrupt every exchange with a negation or contradiction. They’re not necessarily unkind. They may not even be aware of what they’re doing. However, their words have a major impact.

Some might simply call them contrarians, but that term doesn’t quite capture it. “But” isn’t just a word. It’s a shield. It says: “I’m not listening” or “I don’t care.”

“But” has a remarkable power to unravel connection. It can dismiss, diminish, and override everything that came before it. It’s a way to reclaim control of the conversation.

I love “and people.”

They build on ideas. They expand conversations. They know how to hold space for complexity and contradiction.

“And” is a bridge. It allows for nuance. It communicates, “I see what you’re saying, and here’s what I’d add.” There’s generosity in saying “and”. It signals an openness to understanding, rather than winning.

Communication studies back this up.

Researchers Clark and Wilkes-Gibbs describe conversation as fundamentally collaborative. We work together to create shared meaning. “And” supports that process. “But” tends to disrupt it.

Other studies have shown that invalidation - being told, implicitly or explicitly, that your thoughts, emotions, and experiences are wrong - can:

• Increase anxiety
• Lower self-esteem
• Contribute to greater psychological distress
• Activate brain areas linked to threat, like the amygdala

(Witowski, 2017; Schreiber & Veilleux, 2022)

Over time, constant contradiction chips away at the recipient’s emotional safety. The language we use either reinforces connection or slowly dissolves it.

Communication and connection matter in recovery.

When we’re healing from addiction, trauma, or mental illness, we must learn to trust ourselves, our support system, and the process.

“But” is an act of resistance. It’s a way of dismissing or disregarding the guidance we’re given. By instinctively contradicting the people trying to help us, whether it be a therapist, a sponsor, or a loved one, we keep ourselves isolated.

Many recovery frameworks preach these principles.

Take, for example, the foundational 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Step One - “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable.”

Step Two - “Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

The first two steps require profound acceptance and a recognition that you can’t do it alone. Recovery comes from connecting with something greater than ourselves, whether that's a spiritual power, a supportive community, or something else.

To believe in something greater requires surrender. And surrender demands openness.

I recognize a part of myself in Abigail.

In early recovery, I was polite on the outside and defiant on the inside. I’d listen and nod, all while mentally editing the advice in my head. I thought that made me independent. Really, it just made me lonely.

Over time, I began to soften. I practiced saying “and” instead of “but”- to others, but also myself.

I’m scared, and I’m showing up.
I don’t know what I believe, and I’m willing to learn.
I want to control this, and I know I need help.

Let “and” lead the way.

“And” makes room for healing.

It doesn’t ask you to abandon your truth.
It just invites you to widen the lens.

It’s the difference between defensiveness and curiosity.
Between resistance and growth.

Abigail left the program. I don’t know where she is now, but I hope she’s somewhere learning to say “and.”

Sources:

Clark, H. H., & Wilkes-Gibbs, D. (1986). Referring as a collaborative process. Cognition, 22(1), 1–39.

Schreiber, R. E., & Veilleux, J. C. (2022). Perceived invalidation of emotion uniquely predicts affective distress: Implications for the role of interpersonal factors in emotional experience. Personality and Individual Differences, 184.

Zielinski, M. J., Veilleux, J. C., Fradley, M. F., & Skinner, K. D. (2022). Perceived emotion invalidation predicts daily affect and stressors. Anxiety, Stress, & Coping, 36(2), 214–228.

Brandão, Tânia & Brites, Rute & Hipólito, João & Nunes, Odete. (2022). Perceived emotional invalidation, emotion regulation, depression, and attachment in adults: A moderated-mediation analysis. Current Psychology. 42.

Shenk, C. E., & Fruzzetti, A. E. (2011). The impact of validating and invalidating responses on emotional reactivity. Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology, 30(2), 163-183.

*Name has been changed.