Let’s talk about something most people experience… and almost nobody admits.
You’re happy at home. You’ve got a solid relationship. You love your partner.
And then there’s… him. The guy at work.
It starts small. A look that lingers half a second too long. A joke that feels just a little more charged than it should. You notice what he’s wearing. He notices when you change your hair.
There’s nothing happening; but there’s something there.
A shift in energy when you’re in the same room.
And now you’re asking yourself, “Is this harmless… or is this the beginning of something slippery?”
First, let’s normalize it. Feeling a flicker doesn’t mean you’re unhappy at home. It means you’re alive. But here’s where it matters, what you do with that undercurrent is everything.
A harmless crush stays harmless because it stays contained. You don’t feed it. You don’t linger in his office longer than necessary. You don’t start sharing pieces of your emotional world that belong in your relationship. No watering here.
Do you confide in him about frustrations at home? 
Do you dress with him in mind? Do you look forward to work more than you know you should?
Would you feel uncomfortable if your partner stood right there during one of those “innocent” conversations? That’s the line.
The undercurrent itself isn’t the betrayal. Secrecy is.
Sometimes that office attraction isn’t about the other person at all. Maybe you miss being admired or miss playful energy.
Instead of panicking or pretending, just ask yourself what this is showing you.
Strong relationships don’t collapse because someone attractive walks into the building. They can grow stronger if you use moments like this as awareness instead of escape routes.
You can be committed and still be human. You can notice chemistry and still do the right thing.
Attraction isn’t the danger. Indulgence is.
You don’t cheat because you felt something.
You cheat because you fed the beast.

Keith Zlomsowitch waited more than 30 years to tell his story in STALKED: It Could Have Been Me.  He shares the threats, stalking, and emotional turmoil he and Nicole endured at the hands of O.J. Simpson and how, in that fateful moment, it very well could have been him instead. Most people think they know Nicole’s story, the headlines, the trial, the verdict. Listen to hear it from Keith, who lived it firsthand.

A question came up recently on Love Bites that stuck with me:
What happens when one partner says, “If you were a real man, you’d talk about your feelings”and the other shuts down completely? That comment is a low blow. Full stop.
Using someone’s identity, especially their masculinity as a bargaining chip to force intimate conversation is like trying to open a flower with a sledgehammer. Fortress built! For many men(and women too), silence isn’t cruelty or avoidance. It’s protection. It’s how they process. It’s how they avoid saying the wrong thing before they understand what they’re actually feeling. A man doesn’t stop being a man because he doesn’t “perform” vulnerability on demand. it’s often how he was built. But here’s the other side of the table. For many women, talking is intimacy. Words are connection. Sharing is reassurance. When silence appears, it can feel frightening. Panic quickly creeps in with real fear of being abandoned. Are we okay? Are you pulling away? So when she pushes for conversation, it’s often not malice. It’s fear. Different Languages, Same Relationship This is where couples get stuck because they’re speaking different emotional languages. To her talking equals closeness but to him silence equals safetly. Without awareness the couple can drift apart. The real damage happens when shame enters the room, when vulnerability is demanded instead of invited or when masculinity or femininity is used as leverage. The Way Forward (Without Surrendering Yourself) First, that comment can’t just be “gotten over.” Words like that hit identity, not just feelings. If it’s not addressed, it quietly controls everything that follows. I would suggest saying something like:
“I do want to talk to you. But when you said a man ‘talks about his feelings,’ it felt like an attack and it made me go silent.” Then let the response come. Next, silence needs structure.
“I’ll talk when I’m ready” feels endless to someone who equates talking with safety. A time boundary changes everything. Try:
“I don’t have the words right now. Give me 2 hours (or 24). I promise I’ll come back to you.” Now silence becomes a bridge instead of a wall. And yes “I don’t have the words yet” is still communication. So is “I’m frustrated.” So is “Give me a little time.”That is communication. The Bigger Truth Men don’t need to be shamed into vulnerability. It backfires every time.
But withdrawing forever because of a bad comment hands over too much power. Leadership in a relationship doesn’t mean dominating the emotional pace. It means setting boundaries and staying engaged. Address the insult.
Name the boundary.
Then find a way to communicate that works for you without disappearing. Because the goal isn’t to win the silence-versus-words battle.
It’s to build a shared language where both people feel safe enough to stay.

In An Accidental Career, Hal Eisner chronicles his life from his early years in Pittsburgh and Dallas to a remarkable 43-year tenure as a television news reporter in Los Angeles. His journey through radio and television showcases his dedication to journalism, earning him numerous accolades, including a Lifetime Achievement Aware from the Radio and Television News Association of Southern California. After a severe injury from a drunk driving incident in 2021, Hal’s resilience shines as he returns to reporting, embodying the spirit of perseverance.

Third-quarter 2023 Google Trends indicated a 2,400 percent increase in searches for “AI girlfriends.” Millions of people are currently in what they consider to be serious relationships with AI. Thousands have engaged in ceremonial weddings with their AI companions and stay as faithful to them as they would a human partner. Could legal marriage to AI be far off?  In The Friend Machine, Victoria Hetherington delves into the rapidly evolving world of AI companionship, asking what it means to be alone, and to be in love, in a world where artificial intelligence is increasingly present.  A must listen!

Have you ever been in a relationship where it feels like your every move is being monitored even though you’ve done nothing wrong? Not in an obvious, dramatic way. More subtle than that. A missed call becomes a problem or a delayed response sparks tension.
Quiet time feels like an offense. And suddenly, you’re wondering how something that looks like “care” can feel so constricting. We All Come From Different Starting Points Every relationship is shaped by the emotional environments we grew up in. If you were closely monitored or overly doted on as a child, attention in adulthood might feel smothering.
If you grew up with little attention, that same closeness might feel comforting or even necessary. Neither is wrong. But when two different nervous systems collide, things can get complicated. Sometimes heightened need for reassurance isn’t about control but rather about anxiety. Loss, grief, or past abandonment can wire someone to stay hyper-alert to any perceived disconnection. Silence doesn’t feel neutral; it feels dangerous. A delayed response can trigger urgency:
Something’s wrong. I need reassurance now. That second text or voicemail isn’t always passive-aggressive or manipulative. Often, it’s an attempt to regain emotional stability. Anxiety doesn’t always think clearly. When Needs Clash On the other side, there are people who regulate stress by pulling inward. They decompress through quiet, space, and mental   needing to explain themselves. And that is completely valid. But when contact starts to feel obligatory, irritation creeps in. You pull back. The other person leans forward. This is a classic pursuer–withdrawer dynamic. What often goes unnoticed is how unspoken boundaries turn into passive resentment. Over time, that erodes intimacy far more than an honest conversation ever could. What Not to Do Don’t frame the issue as “you’re too needy.”
Don’t wait until resentment builds and spills out sideways.
And don’t over-explain your need for space; that turns a boundary into a negotiation. Something as simple as: “When I don’t respond right away, it’s usually because I’m decompressing, not because I’m avoiding you. But when I feel like I have to check in constantly, I actually feel less connected, and I don’t want that to happen between us.” That reassures connection and sets a limit without making anyone the villain. Why This Matters Long-Term For a relationship to stay healthy over time closeness must be chosen, not demanded, space must be tolerated, not punished and reassurance cannot require constant access. When anxiety becomes someone else’s responsibility, burnout is inevitable. Desire doesn’t survive surveillance. Even deep love can’t thrive when one partner feels managed instead of chosen. Attraction stays alive when connection is voluntary, not reported. The Real Litmus Test The most important question isn’t how much reassurance someone needs, but can one partner tolerate boundaries without escalating or can the other hold those boundaries without disappearing or over-explaining? If the answer to both is yes, the relationship can grow. If not, resentment will eventually dominate. Signs Things Are Moving in a Healthy Direction Here’s what progress actually looks like:

• Boundaries are heard without being interpreted as rejection
  Curiosity replaces defensiveness.
• Anxiety is regulated internally
  Instead of double-texting, there’s pausing, grounding, and perspective.
• Scorekeeping disappears
  No guilt-laced comments. No tracking response times.
• Consistency is trusted, not tested
  You’re no longer “on trial” after years of reliability.
• Fear can be expressed without being acted out
  Naming feelings replaces impulsive behavior.
• Conversations bring relief, not vigilance
  You feel more open afterward, not constrained.

And most importantly: progress sticks, even during stress. Final Thought Healthy relationships don’t require constant availability. They require emotional regulation, trust, and respect for difference. You shouldn’t have to disappear to have space.
And no one should have to panic to feel connected. When reassurance works but learning doesn’t, you’re not building intimacy, you’re becoming a pacifier. And desire? It survives on freedom, not fear.

We don’t usually question our relationships when they’re obviously broken.
We question them when they’re just not quite right. When there’s still love.
Still history.
Still moments that make us think, “Maybe I’m expecting too much.” Letting go isn’t just about ending a relationship.
but also releasing the version of the future we’ve been holding onto. And for many people, that’s the hardest part.
Not the loss of the person, but the loss of who they thought they were going to be with that person. Today’s conversation isn’t about giving up on love.
It’s about recognizing when love starts to diminish you. My guest is Susan Winter, relationship expert, author, and someone who has spent decades helping people navigate love without losing themselves in the process.
She doesn’t believe every relationship should be saved.
She believes every person deserves to stay whole. Today we’re talking about a question so many people live with quietly:
When is it time to let go of a relationship and how do you do that without turning it into a personal failure?

Stephanie Coontz was active in the Free Speech and civil rights movements; her work has been cited in the U.S. Supreme Court’s landmark Obergefell v. Hodges decision on same-sex marriage rights. She has also testified before Congress on family issues.She’s appeared on shows like Oprah, The Today Show, The Colbert Report, and a variety of NPR programs. Her writing is featured in The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, and many scholarly journals.

Stephanie Coontz was active in the Free Speech and civil rights movements; her work has been cited in the U.S. Supreme Court’s landmark Obergefell v. Hodges decision on same-sex marriage rights. She has also testified before Congress on family issues.She’s appeared on shows like Oprah, The Today Show, The Colbert Report, and a variety of NPR programs. Her writing is featured in The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, and many scholarly journals.

There are seasons when a couple’s future shifts because the emotional landscape around them is changing in unexpected ways. A parent falls ill, responsibilities multiply, or a family experiences a loss that quietly reshapes priorities. What once felt straightforward can suddenly feel layered, as a subtle tension emerges between caring for others and maintaining the partnership’s balance. Changes in family needs whether illness, loss, increased caregiving responsibilities, or unexpected demands can pull people closer or stretch their energy thin. Proximity can feel grounding. Familiar routines and shared space may offer comfort when everything else feels uncertain. Often, this pull toward closeness happens without conscious thought; it’s simply an attempt to restore a sense of stability and safety. These shifts can activate deep instincts of responsibility and loyalty. Love and concern may lead someone to step in more fully, sometimes without realizing how much emotional or practical weight they are assuming. At the same time, relationships require space, intention, and the freedom to define their own rhythm. When these needs overlap, strain can quietly build, creating the tension between care and commitment that underlies so many everyday choices. Households and family systems are subtly reshaped whenever responsibilities expand or roles shift. Decision-making, emotional energy, privacy, and autonomy can all be affected, particularly during times of transition. These changes aren’t about blame, they’re about noticing how roles evolve under stress and recognizing the potential for patterns to take root before they are fully examined. The body often signals this strain before the mind can fully name it. Stress can appear as tension, anxiety, or even physical symptoms, reminding us that emotional load has tangible effects. These experiences can be destabilizing, especially when the heart is trying to navigate both support and partnership responsibilities. Two truths can exist at once: the desire to care for family can come from deep love, and the need to protect the relationship can come from wisdom. Holding both requires honesty, patience, and the willingness to tolerate discomfort in service of something healthier long-term. Major decisions made in the midst of family upheaval deserve time. Illness, caregiving, or other crises can distort urgency and narrow perspective. What feels immediately necessary may look very different with space, support, and reflection. That’s why these moments call for ongoing conversation rather than rushed solutions. Support does not always require shared space or absorbing every responsibility personally. There are many ways to remain present, involved, and loving without carrying the entire burden. Creative approaches such as nearby living arrangements, shared caregiving with siblings, professional support, peer groups, or clearly defined temporary responsibilities can honor everyone involved while preserving balance. Equally important are outlets that nurture your own well-being. New hobbies, interests, exercise, or social connections provide emotional replenishment and perspective. When energy is shared between caregiving and personal growth, it helps prevent burnout and maintain clarity and presence in relationships. Resentment, when left unspoken, is a real risk. Agreeing to situations that quietly conflict with one’s needs rarely leads to peace. Over time, it can erode connection. Resentment doesn’t announce itself loudly, it accumulates. Relationships need room to establish themselves as the primary emotional unit. If that foundation isn’t protected, it becomes harder to strengthen later. Addressing discomfort before responsibilities deepen isn’t a sign of trouble but rather an act of care. Navigating love, family needs, and evolving responsibilities requires compassion in multiple directions. Thoughtful pauses, honest dialogue, and clear boundaries do not diminish care, they protect it. When handled with attention, grief, illness, caregiving, and shifting responsibilities can coexist with partnership, while personal fulfillment and well-being are preserved.