Many of us grew up on a steady diet of sitcoms where every problem gets resolved by the end of each episode. A misunderstanding leads to conflict, hijinks ensue, and then everyone hugs it out before the credits roll.
Real life rarely works that way.
Lately I've been watching a Swedish show called Bonus Family, which follows two sets of divorced parents, their new partners, and various combinations of children as they try to make life work. There are moments of happiness and joy, but there's also a lot of ... life. Problems don't get solved in 44 minutes or less. Sometimes they don't get solved at all.
Weirdly, the state of conflict actually feels relieving to watch. It feels true in a way that most TV shows don't, especially American ones. (Even most of our "serious" shows tend to wrap things up neatly by the end of each season.)
The truth is that much of life exists in an unresolved state.
You have an ongoing tension with an in-law. Your teenager is going through a phase that might last for years. The career transition you're attempting is taking way longer than expected. Your mom still pushes your buttons, just like she did when you were fourteen.
Some problems don't get solved—they just change form. Others fade away on their own schedule, not yours. And a few stick around forever, requiring a sort of uneasy ceasefire rather than a decisive victory.
The most challenging part isn't the situation itself—it's the story we tell ourselves about it. We think if we were just smarter, worked harder, or had better boundaries, surely we could find the "right" solution. After all, that's what we've been trained to expect: identify problem, apply solution, achieve resolution.
But what if that's not how it works?
What if your mom will always be a little too critical, your partner will never be quite as organized as you'd like, and your work will always involve some degree of uncertainty? What if instead of trying to solve these "problems," you accepted them as ongoing conditions?
This isn't about giving up. It's about distinguishing between what needs to be fixed and what simply needs to be managed. It's about recognizing that some tensions in life are chronic rather than acute.
When you accept that some situations will remain complicated, you can stop feeling like you're doing something wrong because you haven't fixed everything yet.
You can also redirect that energy toward something more useful: learning to live well amid the complexity.
This might mean:
Setting better boundaries while accepting you can't change others
Finding ways to work around persistent challenges rather than trying to eliminate them
Celebrating small improvements without demanding complete resolution
Recognizing that "good enough" is sometimes the best outcome
Life isn't about solving every problem. It's about becoming resilient enough to thrive even when some problems persist. It's about finding moments of joy and connection not after the challenges end, but right in the middle.
Just like those families in the Swedish TV show, we're all just figuring it out as we go along. "Unresolved" doesn't equal "failed."
John Gottman, one of the top relationship researchers of our era, says that up to 70% of conflicts between people are un- resolvable. https://www.gottman.com/blog/managing-conflict-solvable-vs-perpetual-problems/#:~:text=When%20thinking%20about%20conflict%20in,and%20a%20gridlocked%20perpetual%20problem.
He calls them “perpetual problems.”
The reality that MOST relationship conflict is perpetually problematic is not part of our zeitgeist. Instead, there’s a strong (misguided) belief that “if I just communicate better” I can somehow resolve any conflict that arises between me and someone else. But the deck is stacked against me if 70% percent of the time that’s not true.
Although I’ve known this statistic for years, and known about this concept for years, it’s hitting me harder than it ever has right this minute.
70% of the time what I need to do is face the reality that this other person is going to be how they are, and I can’t change it and I have to decide what I will do in response.
I can’t change them. I can’t do better. I can’t communicate better. I just have to decide how I will be with this gap between us. Either it’s something I can live with it or not. And that’s it. There’s nothing more that can be done about it.
Yes, 30% of the time there is a solution—but deeply accepting that more than 2/3 of the time there is no solution is simultaneously horrifying and relieving. Because it gets me off the hook for trying and trying and trying and beating my head against a wall that is simply never going to change.
What a helpful re-orientation going into this holiday season, when we’re exposed to differences between us and other people that are simply impossible to fix.
What is the level of closeness I can sustain comfortably with someone who has these differences, so that I can still feel healthy and whole? With some people, it may be no contact. For some people, it may be low contact. For some people it may be that I can handle the level of contact we have through the holidays. But the more that I decide what distance works for me, the healthier I’m going to be January 1!
For me, the way to decide what I will do is to work with the parts of me who are triggered by the differences between me and this person using Internal Family Systems (IFS).
But it really doesn’t matter what technique you use—the important thing is to be aware: you get to decide what you do about this difference between you and the other person. The part of you who says “just try harder“ may not be accurately understanding that 70% of the time that won’t work.
Thanks for this incredibly timely reminder that trying harder is not always the solution, Chris!
Some conflicts took a full TWO episodes to resolve them :D That's when you knew things were really bad in the sitcom world :P