COULD INTIMACY BE JUST A SENTENCE AWAY?

We know that a fight can be just a sentence away.

Joe: What do you feel like doing this weekend?
Rose: Well, I’ve been thinking about the new Woody Allen movie. How does that sound?
Joe: Great. And we can try that Thai place that just opened.
Rose: And you remember, don’t you, my brother’s coming over Friday, right?
Joe (suddenly angry): Oh no, do we have to see him again?

That is the sentence that triggers a fight. It wouldn’t if Rose and Joe were used to flaring up with each other without it becoming an issue—or if Rose were in a mellow mood, were feeling unusually good toward Joe, or were a person who characteristically smoothes things over. But they aren’t and she isn’t.

Rose: Don’t yell at me! Please.
Joe: I’m not yelling! I just don’t see why you had to invite him over when we saw him just a few days ago.
Rose: How about thirty-one days ago, as in a whole month ago?
Joe (sarcastically): Well, time certainly goes by fast when he’s not around. Anyway, you’re wrong—he was at our Super Bowl party Sunday.
Rose: Okay, he was, but along with a dozen other people. I hardly had a chance to say hello.
Joe: I’m just saying that you’re too attached to him.
Rose: How would you know? You’ve lost touch with everyone in your family.
Joe: No, I haven’t. I just don’t have to see them every hour of every day.

Whereas a fight is just a sentence away, so is intimacy—although it may be hard to come up with that sentence in the middle of a fight. Joe would be doing just that if he had said, early on, “Oops, sorry, I guess I did raise my voice.” He would be making a John Gottman repair attempt. Rose could then say, “Well, I appreciate your admitting it.” She would be accepting Joe’s repair attempt. The fight would end before hardly starting.

But we know that Joe isn’t likely to make such an admission. When you’re in a fight, you never admit anything—unless, of course, you can turn it into a weapon, as in: “You’ve got a total double standard. You raise your voice all the time but when I do it this once, it’s like, ‘Oh my god, he’s really lost it!’” When you’re in a fight, your amygdala takes over and all you can do is fight, flee, or freeze.

If Joe and Rose are to come up with an intimacy-inducing sentence, it would have to be later, when the prefrontal cortex of at least one of them comes back on line. Rose’s is usually the first to do so. An hour later she tells him in a conciliatory tone, “I forgot about the Super Bowl party; you’re right—we did just see him.”

That is the sentence that triggers an intimate exchange. It wouldn’t if Joe were still fuming about the angry things Rose had said during the fight or if he had become embittered over the years—in which case, he’d take advantage of Rose’s admission to tell her, “It’s interesting how you’re always conveniently forgetting things that don’t suit you”—which would make Rose sorry she had said anything at all and would re-ignite the fight. But Rose’s comment disarms Joe; it brings his prefrontal cortex back on line.

Joe: Well, you were right, too. With all the people, you didn’t really have a chance to talk with him.
Rose: True enough, but I’ve been thinking about what you said. Maybe he is too important to me.
Joe: I don’t know. I wish I had a brother I got along with as well.

When partners shift from an angry to an intimate exchange, they often start making each other’s points and discovering more about what they feel.

Rose:  Well, you get along with my brother—so, actually, I don’t entirely understand why you don’t want to see him.
Joe: Don’t you remember Thanksgiving?
Rose: Not really—except for the overdone turkey.
Joe: You know… What he said about me.
Rose: Oh yes, I’d totally forgotten that. You’re right—he was way off base there. I don’t know what got into him.
Joe: He was really rude, insulting, and hurtful. It was like he knew exactly where to punch me short of getting physical.

When partners are in an intimate cycle, they often confide vulnerable feelings they otherwise keep to themselves.

As Rose and Joe’s therapist, I try to help them come up with the intimacy-triggering sentence. I might ask them, a la Susan Johnson, “Hey, what just happened? You were planning your weekend and suddenly the whole tone changed.” Or, “Rose, what are the various feelings you have when, like just now, Joe gets upset with you?” Or, “Joe, what happens in you when, like just now, Rose objects to your tone?”

I am trying to create a meta-level—a platform—from which Rose and Joe might be able to focus on what is happening within them rather than on what the other is doing wrong. Of course, they may ignore my question and continue their fight. But Rose might answer, “When Joe gets angry like this, I immediately feel I’ve done something wrong; I kind of freeze the way I did as a child.” Or Joe might answer, “When Rose calls me on raising my voice, I feel she’s got me dead to rights. I can’t stand it, and I start denying everything.” Either admission could trigger an intimate exchange.

Or, I might try to guess what the intimacy-evoking sentence might be. Using my version of the psychodrama method of doubling—speaking as if I were Joe talking to Rose—I might say: “You’re right, Rose, we haven’t seen your brother that much; it just seems like a lot because I’m upset with him right now.” Or I might say for Rose: “Joe, I guess I’ve been operating on old data: I thought you liked my brother. Am I wrong about that?” Either statement might trigger an intimate exchange.

Reminding myself that “intimacy is just a sentence away” keeps me focused on the fundamental task of Collaborative Couple Therapy: trying to formulate the question or statement that might transform the couple’s adversarial or withdrawn interaction into an intimate one.

But is intimacy always just a sentence away? Well, no. First of all, the intimacy-triggering event may be longer than a sentence (say, a paragraph) or shorter (just a word or two); it may be devoid of words entirely (a hug, shrug, or look).

Second, the intimacy-triggering may involve a succession of events rather than just one. Soon after the fight, Joe attempted to dispel the angry mood by making a friendly joke. Rose didn’t laugh; she was still too upset. But his willingness to joke softened her and a little later she reached out in her own way: cleaning the hall closet, which she knew Joe would like. He returned the favor. He washed the dishes when it had been her turn to do so—which Rose appreciated and which led her to make her admission sooner than she would have otherwise.

Third, the shift to intimacy might not occur immediately after the intimacy-triggering event. There may be a delay. Joe went on later to criticize Rose’s brother. She defended him and she and Joe got into another fight. Rose then confided that she, too, has had run-ins with her brother. Her admission could potentially have triggered an intimate moment. Joe could have said, “Well, I appreciate your saying that.” But instead he snapped angrily, “Do you think you could possibly have told me that right away?” While some people in some situations are able to shift on a dime, others need more time. It was only after the session that he expressed appreciation to Rose for her disclosure.

Fourth, some couples no longer have (or never had) intimate moments, in which case, of course, intimacy isn’t a sentence away. Let’s say Rose and Joe were such a couple and he complains at length about her brother. In response, Rose says, “That’s just the way he is. Don’t take it personally. You should do what the rest of us in the family do and just ignore him.” Here I would try to show them what an intimacy-triggering comment might sound like. “Rose, I’m going to make a statement for you—tell me whether any of it catches how you feel. You would say to Joe, “Joe, my brother’s been difficult for everyone in the family for a long time and I feel really bad you have to deal with him. Since I’ve given up long ago getting him to change, I place all my hopes on convincing you not to mind him so much—which I obviously haven’t been doing very well. But I keep on trying because I can’t think of what else to do.”

If partners have become increasingly embittered, which is why they no longer have intimate moments, I try to get them talking intimately about that fact: “I can imagine one of you saying to the other, ‘Rose (or Joe) I find myself annoyed by practically everything you’ve been saying today, and it sounds like you feel the same about me. That’s the way it’s been for a long time now. What’s happened to us? We started with so much love and respect and fun. It’s enough to make me want to cry—which I might do if I weren’t so irritated.’”

In couple therapy, I look for ways to turn the interaction of the moment into an intimate one, even if it’s about how the couple no longer has (or never had) intimate moments.