How to Have a Bad Day Step 16: Be Defensive

Ever walk away from a discussion thinking, “Well, that’s 45 minutes of my life I’ll never get back”? You could’ve been folding laundry, binge-watching a show, or staring at a blank wall in peaceful ignorance—but instead, you spent your evening trying to reason with someone whose primary source was “a guy on YouTube.” By the time you get home, you’re emotionally drained, spiritually irritated, and mentally trying to decide if it’s worth deleting half your friend list.

Dealing with Defensive People

Talking to someone with a different perspective can be quite frustrating —not because they disagree with me, but because they refuse to even consider what I’m saying. Dialogue and debate is healthy. Whenever I come across new or intriguing information that I've not heard or considered, I'll think about it, see if there's any truth to it, let it stew with my preconceived ideas and wander around in my world view bubble for a while.

Unfortunately, when I have conversations with people, I don't get the same response. What I get is defensiveness. It can be frustrating because I am genuinely excited to be sharing what I have learned. I’m not talking about a random opinion I tossed together while doing dishes or a feeling I have based on the dream I had last night. I mean a position I’ve spent years digging into, cross-examining from every possible angle, backed by actual evidence, first-hand accounts, and a mountain of books.

But instead of leaning in with curiosity, asking thoughtful questions, or offering credible counterpoints, they wave it all away with, “Well, I heard on [insert podcaster, preacher, or news station here]…” as if that’s a mic drop moment and I should just toss everything out and go listen to Joe Blow cause he's going to set me straight. I'm just....whatever adjective they want to use to define ME as a person.

The moment the conversation stops being about ideas and starts being about me—my motives, my intelligence, my character—I know we’ve crossed into defensive territory. And here’s the thing about defensiveness: when someone feels their worldview wobble, they often grab the quickest weapon available. For some, it’s a sarcastic jab. For others, it’s labeling, slander, or outright name-calling. Facts become irrelevant. The goal shifts from understanding to winning—or worse, silencing.

That’s my cue to stop. Not because I’ve run out of evidence, but because the conversation has turned into a sparring match that neither of us will walk away from feeling heard. You can pile evidence to the ceiling, and it won’t matter if the other person has already decided their source is right and yours is dangerous, wrong, or laughable.

At that point, the healthiest option isn’t another round of debate—it’s disengagement. Not in defeat, but in wisdom. Because I've learned recently some battles aren’t about truth, they’re about identity, and that’s a war you can’t win.

Why We Get Defensive

When someone says, “I see it differently,” our inner monologue can spiral in seconds: “If you don’t agree with me, you must think I’m wrong. If I’m wrong, you must think I’m dumb. And if you think I’m dumb, clearly you don’t respect me… and obviously, we can’t be friends.”

See how fast that escalated?

It’s rarely just about the facts—it’s about ego. When someone holds a different opinion—whether it’s politics, parenting, pineapple-on-pizza, or theology—it can feel like they’re not only disagreeing with your point… they’re rejecting you.

The tricky part? Most of us don’t even realize why we think what we think. Parents, church, school, friends, community, culture—they all drip-feed us values, ideas, and “truths” we absorb without question. They become so woven into our sense of self that we don’t even see them anymore.

Most people never stop to challenge those hard-wired beliefs. We just go through life knowing certain things are “right” and others are “wrong,” without ever tracing where that certainty came from. So when someone questions it, it’s not just, “I disagree with your perspective.” It feels more like, “I’m shaking the foundation of who you are.”

And that’s scary. Because if this one thing you’ve always “known” might be wrong… what else could be? Who are you without that belief? And what happens if your whole mental filing system needs reorganizing?

That’s why so many conversations aren’t really about exchanging ideas—they’re about protecting our identity. And when identity is under threat, ego doesn’t fight fair.

What to Do When we Feel Ourselves Getting Defensive

We all know the signs—heart rate up, jaw tight, rehearsing your next point before the other person’s even finished talking. Your inner lawyer is about to stand and deliver.

Here’s how to hit pause before your ego hijacks the conversation:

Notice the trigger. The first step isn’t defending yourself—it’s catching yourself. Did their words challenge a belief you’ve always held? Did it feel like they questioned your intelligence or your motives? Identify what really set you off.

Breathe like you mean it. It sounds cliché, but slow, deep breaths give your brain the oxygen it needs to choose wisdom over word-vomit.

Ask, don’t assume. Instead of firing back, say, “Can you tell me more about why you see it that way?” It shows maturity, disarms tension, and sometimes reveals you weren’t even disagreeing about the same thing.

Separate identity from idea. Your value as a person is not on trial here. Disagreeing with you is not the same as rejecting you.

Choose curiosity over combat. Shift from “I must win” to “I want to understand.” Curiosity is a lot less exhausting than verbal warfare.

Final Thought:

At the end of the day, not every disagreement is a threat to truth—sometimes, it’s just a test of humility. If you’re in a conversation where facts don’t matter, the goalposts keep moving, and the only “evidence” offered is opinion dressed as authority… bow out. Not because you lost, but because you chose peace over ego.

Jesus never chased down every false claim made about Him. He didn’t feel the need to win every argument or defend His honor to people who were determined not to hear Him. And if the Son of God could entrust His reputation to the Father, maybe we can, too. Not every hill is worth dying on, and the only one that I will never back down on is the one He died on.

Disengaging isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Sometimes the most Christlike thing you can say is nothing at all the wisest (and most peaceful) choice is to disengage gracefully and have a good day in spite of it all.