Win-Win Communication: The Conversation That Changed Everything
Oct 04, 2025Want to go deeper?🎙️ Listen to the Journey Mindfulness Podcast — streaming now on YouTube, Spotify, & Apple.
I'll never forget the day my therapist suggested I try something called "win-win communication" with my ex.
I wanted to laugh in her face. "Yeah right."
We were months past the divorce. Co-parenting had become a minefield. Every exchange felt like a negotiation with someone who didn't want to negotiate. And here she was, suggesting I talk my way through it.
I was furious—at the situation, at my ex, and honestly, at my therapist for having the audacity to suggest that words could fix what felt permanently broken.
But here's what I didn't realize: she was already using the technique on me.
She didn't argue with my resistance. She didn't try to convince me I was wrong. She just listened. Acknowledged how hard it was. And held space for me to arrive at my own truth.
That truth was simple: I loved my kids more than I hated the discomfort of that conversation.
If I didn't at least try, I'd be out of alignment with who I wanted to be—as a parent, a father, a man. I'd be letting my ego win instead of my heart.
So I agreed. Begrudgingly. And I started preparing.
The Rehearsal
I spent hours on it.
Word by word. Breath by breath. I imagined every objection my ex could possibly raise—and crafted a response for each one. Not a rebuttal. A response. There's a difference.
A rebuttal is designed to win. A response is designed to keep the door open.
Somewhere in that rehearsal, something shifted. I stopped preparing to prove I was right. I started preparing to find a way where we both could win.
I didn't believe it would work. But I believed I had to try.
The Conversation
I won't pretend I wasn't terrified walking in.
My chest was tight. My mind kept looking for exits. Every instinct told me to protect myself—to go in defended, ready to fight.
But I didn't. I led with something true.
"You're a great mother to our children. I know you would do anything to protect them—I know that about you, and I appreciate that. I do too. Can we talk about them?"
She replied "yes." Agreement.
That's enrollment. Not flattery. Not manipulation. Finding the thing you genuinely respect about the other person and saying it out loud before you ask for anything.
She didn't melt. She didn't suddenly become easy to talk to. But something shifted in her posture. The wall came down half an inch. Enough.
Then I did the hardest thing: I let her speak first. Without interrupting. Without defending. Without that voice in my head preparing my counterattack while she was still talking.
I just listened.
And when she finished, I didn't argue. I reflected back what I heard. "It sounds like you've been feeling dismissed. Like your concerns aren't being taken seriously. Did I get that right?"
She paused. Then nodded.
Something in the room shifted again. Not fixed—shifted. Like a door cracking open that had been locked for months.
We didn't solve everything that day. But we solved something. And more importantly, we proved to each other—and to ourselves—that solving was still possible.
What I Was Actually Doing
It wasn't magic. It was a practice. And once I understood the bones of it, I could see why it worked.
Win-win communication comes down to six moves:
Start with your highest intention. Before the conversation even begins, get honest with yourself: Do you want to win, or do you want everyone to win? This happens inside you first. You have to mean it before you can say it. You have to genuinely care about the person to be most effective.
Enroll them. This is intention in action—the moment it stops being internal and becomes real. Before you ask for anything, honor what's true about them. Not flattery. Not strategy. Something you genuinely respect. When I told my ex she was a great mother, I meant it. And she knew I meant it. That's what opened the door.
Let them speak first. This is brutal when you're hurt. Every instinct says defend yourself, get your point in, don't let them control the narrative. Ignore that instinct. Let them have the floor. Don't interrupt. Don't prepare your rebuttal. Just receive.
After I enrolled her, I asked permission: "Can we talk about safe and supportive ways to bring new people into their lives?"
She said yes.
That yes matters. She's not being talked at—she's choosing to engage. Now it's a conversation, not an ambush.
Then I stopped talking. And I let her go first.
Reflect back what you heard. Not to agree—to prove you actually listened. "It sounds like you've been feeling dismissed. Did I get that right?" That single sentence unlocked more than an hour of arguing ever had.
State what you need clearly. No hinting. No hoping they'll figure it out. Say it plainly: Here's what I need. Here's where my boundary is. Clarity isn't aggression. It's respect—for both of you.
Problem-solve together. Stay in it. Don't rush to resolution or retreat to your corner. Think in possibilities. Keep going until both of you can walk away whole.
There are 13 steps in the full process, and yes—it takes practice. But every step is designed to move you out of win-lose and into something that actually lasts.
What I Learned
Most of us were never taught how to do this.
We learned to defend, deflect, win arguments, or shut down completely. We learned that conflict has a winner and a loser—and you'd better make sure it isn't you.
Win-win communication is a different game entirely. It's built on one commitment: meeting the needs of everyone involved. Not just yours. Not just theirs. Everyone's.
That requires something most of us resist: setting aside the need to be right.
Not because being right doesn't matter. But because being right and being connected are often two different doors—and you can only walk through one at a time.
The Part No One Tells You
This technique works about 70% of the time in situations most people have written off as hopeless. I know because I was one of those situations.
But here's the part no one tells you: the technique isn't the thing.
The thing is what happens inside you before the conversation. The moment you decide that your love for your kids, or your marriage, or your own integrity, is bigger than your fear of being vulnerable.
The rehearsal isn't about finding the perfect words. It's about finding the version of yourself who can say them and mean it.
The Invitation
I'm not sharing this because I've mastered it. I'm sharing it because it changed my life—and I've watched it change the lives of people I work with.
If you're facing a conversation you've convinced yourself won't work—with a partner, an ex, a parent, a child, a friend—I want you to consider the possibility that you might be wrong.
Not wrong about how hard it is. You're right about that.
Wrong about it being impossible.
Go Deeper
I explore this practice in detail with Dr. Wendy Hill on the Journey Mindfulness Podcast. If you want the full picture—the psychology behind it, the 13 steps, and how to prepare for the conversation that scares you most—that episode is a good place to start.
Listen on on You Tube, Spotify, and Apple.
And if you're ready to stop circling the conversation and start preparing for it, I'd be honored to help.
About James O'Neill
James O'Neill, LCPC, is a licensed therapist, MBSR instructor, and founder of Journey Mindfulness in Ellicott City, Maryland. He works with high-achievers navigating the hard conversations—the ones that feel impossible until they're not.
