Last summer I wrote about the kitchen table relationship rebuild process Ari and I were in. At that time, I thought we were on the upswing. Turns out, we weren’t.

Soon after that piece, we had a family crisis that cracked us open, and we were right back where we’d been.

That’s the thing about dynamics

They can look like they’ve shifted, until a crisis comes along and those old patterns flare right back up.

Later, he told me that he had considered consulting an attorney at the time. On my end, in a tragic conversation with a friend, I said, pretty quietly, “Something has to change.” And I meant it with my whole heart.

What I needed

After that happened, and before I went to India to give my marriage some breathing room, I took time apart to reflect on what I needed.

Out of his presence, it became clear: I needed my very beloved partner to do his f*****g work.

I needed him to heal trauma.

He was pushing for couples therapy, which I was down for, but I knew deeply that he had to work on himself first.

It actually was a him problem, rippling out into an us problem.

Trauma will do that.

I used to call it #traumafail when our wounds got in the way of being able to relate.

The code word

We had a code word: if things ever got really bad, we could pull it out, and the other person would listen.

I told him I thought he needed intensive, possibly in-patient, trauma healing work.

He was terribly angry at being called out, even as he said he would do it.

That’s the thing about truth: it can land like an accusation even when it’s spoken from love.

I held my ground and tried to hold him too, from a distance, knowing I might be wrong, knowing I might lose him either way.

But lo and behold, he actually listened.

The morning everything changed

I’ll never forget the morning he came downstairs and said that he had signed up for a year-long coaching container in Organic Intelligence, developed by Steve Hoskinson, a former lead teacher for Somatic Experiencing.

And then he signed up for a week-long in-person trauma intensive in Oklahoma.

I left for India, and didn’t see him for over four months, while he did all that.

When we reunited in January, I was shocked by the change in my partner.

More capacity was the least of it.

His presence, openheartedness, and willingness to repair after several years of dissociation and disconnection were astounding.

It’s not an overstatement to say I was gobsmacked.

We are now in RLT couples therapy together with an extremely competent therapist, and are building on the work he did alone.

The irony

It’s ironic that after 15 years of working with couples, my own marriage needed such a major overhaul.

But it did, and we did.

Every day is different.

I’m tracking my marriage happiness daily.

My goal is for us to average 80% happiness this year. But truly, most days have been 85-90% relational joy.

The flow of love, of Eros, of care, trust, and support have all increased exponentially.

When we say good morning, I hurl myself into his arms.

I adore Ari.

All of the irritation, the cranky little judgmental thoughts that had become so much a part of my everyday life have gone silent.

Frequently, I am moved to tears by his beauty and his healing.

Miracles happen.

Why I’m telling you this

Alongside this, I’ve been training in Relational Life Therapy and using it with my clients.

If we can learn to be truly relational with the person we love most, maybe we can learn to do it everywhere.

What surprised me most, after 15 years of sitting with couples, is that it doesn’t have to be loud to be fatal.

My first marriage ended in fire.

This one almost ended in silence.

And in some ways, the silence is harder, because there’s nothing obvious to point at.

I wrote more about that here.

If any of this is landing for you and your partner, I’d love to talk.

A free call is thirty minutes, no commitment, just a conversation about where you are and whether this work might help.

Book a free call

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