Couples Counseling
A guided space for partners of any configuration to untangle patterns and practice repair. We work toward relationships rooted in equity, clarity, and connection.
Definitions
Many of the patterns we bring into partnership were shaped long before we met each other.
We each carry ideas about love, trust, responsibility, desire, and conflict that were formed in childhood or through past relationships. Often, those ideas are running the show before we even realize they’re there. That’s where friction comes in. We want to feel heard. We want to feel respected. We want to be chosen. We want to feel free.
Being in a relationship means being with each other’s wounds.
The arguments, misunderstandings, and silence often come from something much older than whatever happened this morning. Part of this work is learning how to navigate the hidden emotional terrain underneath the surface moment.
Conflict shows up in any relationship where people are genuinely close.
If you're in a long-term partnership, you're going to hurt each other sometimes. What matters is how you show up afterward, and whether repair becomes part of your relationship rhythm. Many of us never saw healthy repair growing up. Maybe your family avoided conflict altogether. Maybe you learned that forgiveness meant pretending nothing ever happened. Maybe you’re still waiting for an apology that never came.
It can be easy to assume your partner doesn’t care.
But more often than not, something deeper is going on. Most couples are made up of people who long for closeness and safety, but keep missing each other in the execution.
Repair is the heart of relational work.
That means naming hurt clearly and kindly. Learning to apologize without collapsing into shame. Extending forgiveness when it’s possible—not because we have to, but because we want to stay in connection.
We practice staying in the room emotionally. Speaking honestly without blame. Coming back to each other again and again, not as a one-time fix, but as a practice of love.
Symptoms
Patterns speak first. Small misunderstandings loop into the same argument with new packaging—tone of voice, a glance at a phone, a half‑finished chore. One partner pursues, the other retreats. Or both pursue at once until there’s no air left in the room. Over time, those loops feel less like moments and more like the relationship’s soundtrack.
Then there’s the quiet distance. Partners share a bed but live in parallel calendars. Conversations feel scripted: logistics, schedules, surface reflections. Underneath, resentment keeps a quiet scoreboard: who listened last, who compromised more, who held the heavier load. Even moments of peace carry tension, as if one wrong word will restart the cycle.
The body keeps track, too. A stomach drop before tough topics. Shoulders that rise during simple check‑ins. Intimacy that shifts from play to obligation or disappears altogether. Sleep patterns split. One partner lies awake replaying every exchange; the other stays up late scrolling, unsure why the room feels colder. These signals aren’t proof of failure. They’re invitations to look underneath the routine and ask what’s really missing.
Why Does It Show Up?
Relationship struggles often intensify during transitions.
Opening up a relationship, getting married, moving in together, becoming parents - each of these moments brings up old fears and unmet needs. Many couples find that what looked like a simple disagreement is actually a tangle of fear, longing, and meaning from much earlier in life.
For example, one partner may feel jealous or abandoned when their partner goes on a date with someone else. But underneath that jealousy might be something even more raw: a childhood memory of being forgotten, or a fear of being unlovable. Working with what's happening now often means understanding what it might be echoing from the past.
Some people pull away because they're afraid of what might happen if they actually feel connected.
Love can be disorienting when you’ve learned how to live without it. For some, it feels safer to criticize, withdraw, or sabotage the relationship than to risk being seen and possibly hurt.
We also learn early on what strength and honor are supposed to look like in relationships.
Maybe you were taught that needing someone makes you weak, or that real love means pushing through without help. Maybe you picked up the idea that protecting yourself is safer than being fully known. These ideas can run deep, even when they don’t serve us. Some of those stories tell us that keeping distance makes us safer or that depending on others makes us weak. When honor becomes about control or invulnerability, we lose out on the kind of strength that comes from being known.
These patterns often don’t show up until something shifts. But when they do, they can open the door to real healing - if we’re willing to walk through it.
Why Now?
Couples often reach for help when they notice a growing gap between intention and impact.
You still care. That's why you're here.
Love is present, but the lived experience feels disconnected or tense.
Time magnifies unspoken needs. Months (or years) of unaddressed friction add weight until even small conflicts feel loaded. Partners see repeating themes in new disagreements and realize the pattern isn’t situational; it’s structural. That recognition can push the relationship to a crossroads: continue as is and risk more distance, or slow down and learn a different rhythm.
Therapy becomes relevant when the usual strategies stop working—when advice from friends, quick fixes, or silent endurance no longer move the needle. Stepping into the room together marks a shift from managing symptoms to tracing roots. It isn’t a last resort; it’s a decision to meet the relationship where it truly is and decide, together, how to reshape it.
How Therapy Can Help
Whether you're monogamous, polyamorous, or any other '-ous', every relationship needs care, clarity, and connection.
My approach is relational, process-oriented, and grounded in the idea that conflict is a doorway into understanding, and not a sign that something’s wrong.
I work with couples of all configurations.
In some relationships, we might explore the tension between autonomy and closeness, how to stay emotionally connected across multiple partnerships, or how to rebuild trust after a rupture. In others, the work may focus on desire, resentment, misattunement, or the impact of trauma.
I often work with the difference between freedom and avoidance and exploring how fairness and equity show up across relationships. I also spend time noticing how unspoken emotional needs quietly shape your connection.
I use an integrative approach that includes Gestalt, IFS, ACT, and somatic awareness. That means we pay attention to what’s happening in the room between us, and not just what’s being said. We try to slow down enough to actually feel what’s happening beneath the surface. We explore how early experiences show up in the present. We track what’s happening in the body. And we work toward clarity in your values and agreements, so that the relationship you’re building reflects what actually matters to every partner.
Our Work Together
This work isn’t about solving everything or becoming perfectly attuned. It’s about learning how to stay emotionally present with one another, even when things feel hard or uncertain. It’s about building the kind of relationship where you can show up fully and be met with care. That means learning how to stay present during hard moments, seeing each other’s tenderness without turning away, and creating a space where your pain, your play, and your pleasure can all belong.
