You're in the middle of explaining how you feel, and your partner cuts you off. They correct a detail. They defend themselves before you've finished. They jump in with their perspective before you've landed yours.
Maybe you're the one doing the interrupting. You can't help it—you need to respond to what they just said before you forget. You need to correct the record. You need them to understand that what they're saying isn't fair.
Either way, the conversation derails. Neither of you feels heard. And the thing you were actually trying to talk about gets lost in the fight about who gets to speak.
Interrupting is one of the most common ways couples fight—and one of the least recognized. It doesn't feel like fighting. It feels like talking. But chronic interruption erodes connection just as surely as yelling or stonewalling. Here's why it happens, what it does, and how to stop.
Why We Interrupt
No one interrupts because they're trying to be rude. There's always a reason—it just usually isn't a good enough reason to justify the impact.
Anxiety. Your nervous system is activated. You're flooded with thoughts and feelings that feel urgent. The idea of waiting until your partner finishes feels impossible—what if you forget what you need to say? What if the moment passes?
Defensiveness. Your partner is saying something that feels unfair or inaccurate. You need to correct it immediately. If you let them finish, the wrong version of events will hang in the air, and that feels intolerable.
Fear of not being heard. Maybe you've learned from experience that if you don't jump in, you won't get a turn. Maybe your partner talks in long monologues, and the only way to participate is to interrupt. Maybe you grew up in a family where interrupting was how conversation worked.
Need for control. Sometimes interrupting is about steering the conversation. You don't want to hear where your partner is going, so you redirect before they get there. This isn't always conscious, but it's often felt by the other person.
Excitement or agreement. Not all interruption is adversarial. Sometimes you interrupt because you're excited, because you agree, because you want to show you understand. But even well-intentioned interruption can leave your partner feeling steamrolled.
The reasons make sense from the inside. But from your partner's side, the reasons don't matter. What matters is the message interrupting sends.
What Interrupting Communicates
When you interrupt your partner, here's what they often hear—whether or not it's what you mean:
What I have to say is more important than what you're saying. Interruption is a hierarchy. The interrupter's words take precedence. Even if that's not your intent, it's the effect.
I'm not actually listening. If you were fully listening, you'd wait. When you interrupt, it signals that you've already moved on from receiving to responding. Your partner can feel that.
I don't trust you to get it right. Corrective interruptions—"That's not what happened" or "That's not what I said"—communicate that your partner's version of reality is wrong and needs to be fixed immediately. Even if you're right about the facts, the interruption says: I don't trust you to tell this story.
Your feelings aren't safe here. When someone is sharing something vulnerable and gets interrupted, they learn that this isn't a safe space to be open. They'll start editing themselves, holding back, shutting down. The interruption teaches them not to try.
I've already decided what you're going to say. Sometimes we interrupt because we think we know where our partner is going. We finish their sentence, or we respond to what we assume they mean. This shortcuts the conversation—and often gets it wrong.
You might not mean any of these things. But if you're a chronic interrupter, your partner has probably felt all of them.
The Difference Between Occasional and Chronic
Everyone interrupts sometimes. Conversations aren't perfectly choreographed. People get excited, overlap, misjudge timing. That's normal.
The problem is when interrupting becomes a pattern—when one partner consistently can't finish a thought, when every conversation becomes a competition for airtime, when one person's voice dominates because the other has given up trying to be heard.
Chronic interruption creates a power imbalance. One partner learns they'll be cut off, so they either fight harder to hold the floor or retreat entirely. Neither option leads to connection.
If you're not sure whether your interrupting is occasional or chronic, ask your partner. Their answer might surprise you. We often don't realize how much we interrupt until someone tells us.
What the Interrupted Partner Experiences
If you're the one being interrupted, you know how it feels:
Invisible. Like your words don't matter. Like you're talking into a void.
Frustrated. You keep trying to make your point, and you keep getting derailed. The frustration builds until you either explode or give up.
Controlled. Like your partner is managing the conversation, deciding what gets discussed and what gets skipped.
Dismissed. Your thoughts, your feelings, your perspective—none of it is important enough to warrant uninterrupted space.
Exhausted. It takes so much energy to fight for airtime that you stop bringing things up at all. It's easier to stay silent than to fight to be heard.
Over time, chronic interruption teaches the interrupted partner that their voice doesn't matter in the relationship. That's a painful lesson, and it doesn't lead anywhere good.
What to Do If You're the Interrupter
Changing this pattern isn't easy. Interrupting often happens automatically, before you've consciously decided to do it. But you can learn to catch yourself—and over time, to stop.
Notice the urge. Before you can change the behavior, you have to see it. Start paying attention to the physical sensation of wanting to interrupt—the tension, the urgency, the fear of losing your thought. That's your cue.
Tolerate the discomfort. You might forget your point. You might have to let an inaccuracy stand for a few more seconds. You might have to sit with the discomfort of not responding immediately. That's okay. The relationship can handle a pause. It can't handle constant interruption.
Take notes if you need to. If you're genuinely afraid of forgetting something important, jot it down. A small notebook or a phone note can hold your thought while you let your partner finish. This sounds silly, but it works.
Trust that you'll get a turn. If you're interrupting because you don't trust that you'll be heard, that's a conversation to have—outside of the moment. "I notice I interrupt a lot, and I think it's because I'm afraid I won't get a chance to respond. Can we figure out a way to make sure we both get heard?"
Repair when you catch yourself. You're going to mess up. When you notice you've interrupted, stop. Say, "Sorry, I cut you off. Please finish." Then actually let them finish. The repair matters as much as the prevention.
What to Do If You're Being Interrupted
If your partner is a chronic interrupter, you have a few options:
Name the pattern. Outside of a heated moment, tell your partner what you've noticed. "I feel like I can't finish a thought when we're talking. Can we work on that?" Keep it about the pattern, not about their character.
Request space in the moment. When you get interrupted, you can say: "I wasn't finished—can I complete my thought?" or "Hold on, let me finish." This isn't rude. It's boundary-setting.
Don't escalate. The temptation when you're interrupted is to talk louder, faster, more forcefully—to fight for the floor. This usually makes things worse. Try slowing down instead. Lower your voice. Pause. Sometimes a calm presence can shift the dynamic.
Ask for structured turn-taking. If the pattern is deeply entrenched, you might need more explicit structure. Some couples use a talking stick, a timer, or a simple rule: one person talks for two minutes, then the other responds. It feels awkward at first, but it can break the cycle.
The Connection You're Protecting
Underneath every conversation about communication is a deeper question: Can I be heard in this relationship? Do my words matter to you?
When you let your partner finish, you're answering that question. You're saying: I want to understand you. Your perspective matters. You have space here.
That's not a small thing. It's the foundation of intimacy.
Interrupting might feel like participation. It might feel like engagement. But it often communicates the opposite—that you're more interested in your own thoughts than in your partner's. And over time, that message takes a toll.
Learning to pause, to wait, to let your partner's words land before you respond—this is a form of respect. It's a way of saying: You matter to me. I want to hear you.
That's worth the discomfort of holding your thought a few seconds longer.
If interrupting has become a pattern in your relationship and you're struggling to change it on your own, couples therapy can help. Schedule a free consultation to talk about what's happening and whether working together might be a good fit.