Generous Assumptions
Because love is built in the fire.🔥🔥
Every couple says they want better communication, deeper trust, more love. But few realize that the real work begins the moment you feel misunderstood. That’s where love meets its edge—where your nervous system floods, your defenses rise, and the part of you wired for survival tries to run the show.
This is the dojo I train couples in every day. Because beneath every argument is a nervous system begging to feel safe. And nothing rewires that faster than generous assumptions—the radical choice to believe your partner’s heart is good, even when their delivery, their how, sucks big time.
At the heart of any thriving relationship is our willingness to see each other through generous eyes—especially when it’s hard.
Generous assumptions mean we choose to believe the best about our partner’s intentions, even when we’re hurt or triggered.
When the Brain Chooses Survival Over Connection
Generous assumptions don’t come alive when everything’s easy. They’re forged in the moments when your body screams danger—when you feel unseen, dismissed, or betrayed. They’re born right there, in the ache of misunderstanding.
You know that moment when your partner’s tone sharpens and frustration flickers across their face—and before you know it, you're defending yourself. Your chest tightens, your breath shortens. That’s the edge—where love meets protection. The warmth fades, the air thickens, and connection slips through the cracks. That’s the moment generous assumptions are hardest—and most needed.
From a neuroscience lens, this makes perfect sense. When threat is perceived, the amygdala floods the body with stress hormones, preparing you to fight, flee, or freeze. The prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for empathy, perspective, and curiosity—is partially offline. Your body isn’t thinking, “My partner must be scared.” It’s thinking, “I’m under attack.”
So when you’re triggered, generosity is not your instinct—it’s your practice. It’s the slow exhale, the steadying of your body, the choice to remember that what feels dangerous might just be uncomfortable or unhealed.
To make a generous assumption is to pause in that heat and recall: your partner’s tone, silence, or sharp edge might not be about you at all. It might be fear, shame, exhaustion, or an ancient pattern rising to protect them.
It’s not about pretending it didn’t hurt. It’s about letting your awareness be bigger than your wound.
It’s saying: I can stay curious even as my heart tightens.​
​I can hold both my pain and your humanity at the same time.
Rewiring the Reflex: From Defense to Repair
This is where the real work begins. Because under threat, the brain doesn’t reach for connection—it reaches for survival. It pulls energy away from empathy and funnels it toward protection. Your body is primed to defend itself, not to lean in and consider your partner.
When we practice generous assumptions, we’re interrupting that reflex. We’re literally rewiring the brain—strengthening neural pathways that link regulation, empathy, and trust. Over time, this becomes our new default: less reactivity, more empathy.
We don’t bypass our truth; we grow large enough to hold both experiences. We protect the bond, not the ego. In that sacred space, repair doesn’t just become possible—it becomes inevitable.
Doing the Reps:
Where theory turns into muscle memory.
Reading this work is one thing; embodying it is another. Generous assumptions become real only through repetition—through the micro-moments when you choose curiosity over defense, breath over reaction, presence over proof. That’s how the nervous system learns safety again.
The next time you feel the heat, pause before responding. Feel your feet on the ground. Exhale longer than you inhale. Remind yourself, I am safe enough to stay curious.
Then ask:
​What story is my nervous system telling me right now?​
​And what story might my partner’s be telling them?
This is the practice of generous assumptions—staying rooted in your body while reaching for the truth of the situation. It’s how love matures, how trust builds, how repair becomes art.
If you’re ready to grow this muscle of connection—to learn how to stay grounded and open, even when it’s hard—this is the work I teach every day. Come train with me. You've got nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Rooting for you,​
​Fereshta