What recurring arguments can tell us about connection, conflict, and what each partner may really be trying to say.

One of the things couples often tell me in a first session is, “We keep having the same argument.” The details may change—it might be money this week, housework next week, sex, parenting, the in-laws, somebody spending too much time on their phone, or who said what on Tuesday—but after a while both people know the script remarkably well. One person says something, the other reacts, somebody becomes defensive, somebody gets louder or withdraws, and eventually both people are left feeling frustrated, hurt, angry or alone.

After more than 20 years of working with couples, I've become much more interested in the pattern of an argument than in deciding who was right about its latest subject. Obviously, the content matters. Sometimes there really is an important decision to make or a behaviour that needs to change. But frequently the argument we're hearing on the surface isn't quite the argument the couple is having underneath.

The Argument Underneath the Argument

“You never help around here” may contain something closer to “I don't feel considered or supported.” “Nothing I do is ever good enough for you” may mean “I don't feel accepted by you anymore.” “Why don't you ever want to have sex?” may contain questions about being wanted, loved or connected. Even an argument about somebody looking at their phone can really be about “Are you here with me? Do I still matter to you?”

This is one reason couples can resolve the immediate issue and nevertheless have essentially the same fight again two weeks later. They solved the subject without necessarily understanding the pattern underneath it. In couples therapy, I want to understand both. What are you fighting about, but also what happens between the two of you once the fight begins?

When the Cycle Takes Over

The Gottman approach to couples therapy has been particularly useful in my work because it gives couples practical ways of recognizing what happens during conflict. Gottman's research identified patterns such as criticism, defensiveness, contempt and stonewalling that can become highly destructive when they take hold in a relationship. Another important concept is flooding—the point at which someone's emotional and physiological arousal becomes so high that having a thoughtful, productive conversation becomes increasingly difficult.

At that point, people aren't necessarily responding to what their partner just said. They're responding to what they heard, what they expected to hear, what happened during the last 50 arguments, and perhaps things that happened in relationships long before this one. One person pushes harder because they desperately want engagement. The other withdraws because the conversation feels overwhelming. The withdrawal makes the first person pursue even harder, which makes the second person retreat further. Before long, the cycle itself has become the problem.

Your Partner Isn't Necessarily the Enemy

This can be a difficult shift when couples first come to therapy because each person understandably arrives with a fairly good list of things the other person is doing wrong. Sometimes they've spent years collecting evidence.

My job as a couples therapist isn't to declare a winner. I'm much more interested in helping both people become curious about what happens between them. What does one person do that triggers the other? What happens next? What is each person protecting? What does each person actually need at that moment but perhaps doesn't know how to ask for?

Often both partners have understandable positions. One may desperately want to talk because talking creates connection and reassurance. The other may desperately need space because they feel overwhelmed and afraid they'll say something they'll regret. Neither need is inherently unreasonable. The trouble comes when each person's attempt to feel safer makes the other person feel less safe.

Once couples begin seeing the cycle as something they are both caught in, rather than proof that one of them is defective, the conversation can change considerably.

How a Conversation Starts Matters

One of the most practical Gottman ideas is the importance of a soft start-up. Compare “You never listen to me. You're always staring at that damn phone” with “I've been missing you lately. Could we put our phones away for a while tonight and spend some time together?”

The underlying concern may be exactly the same. The likelihood of getting the response you want is very different.

This sounds simple when written on a page. It is considerably harder at 10:30 at night when you're tired, you've already had this conversation six times, and you're convinced your partner should know better. That's why couples therapy isn't simply about learning communication tips. We also need to understand what makes those tips so difficult to use at precisely the moment they're needed.

Repair Matters More Than Perfection

Healthy couples aren't couples who never disagree. Conflict is part of being close to another human being. You're two different people with different histories, temperaments, needs, habits and ways of understanding the world. Of course you're going to annoy each other occasionally.

What matters enormously is what happens during and after the difficult moments. Can one of you recognize that things are going off the rails and say, “Hang on, can we start this again?” Can somebody make a little joke that reduces the tension without dismissing the issue? Can you apologize for the way you said something without having to surrender your underlying point? Can you take a break when you're flooded and actually return to the conversation later?

Gottman calls these repair attempts, and I think they're among the most hopeful ideas in couples work. You don't need a relationship without mistakes. You need a relationship increasingly capable of recognizing and repairing them.

Sometimes the Fight Isn't Really About Communication

I also think we need to be careful about describing every relationship problem as a “communication problem.” Sometimes couples communicate perfectly clearly and simply don't like what they're hearing. There may be genuine disagreements about money, sex, parenting, fidelity, substance use, work, family boundaries, values or what each person wants from the future.

Couples therapy isn't about teaching people the correct answer to those questions. Sometimes the work is learning how to have the conversation honestly enough to discover whether compromise is possible. At other times there has been a significant injury to the relationship—an affair, a betrayal, years of resentment or emotional distance—and better communication alone isn't going to repair it.

The deeper work may involve rebuilding trust, understanding what happened, acknowledging hurt, taking responsibility where appropriate and gradually determining whether the relationship can become something both people want to be in again.

Look for the Moments That Still Work

When a relationship is struggling, it's very easy for the problems to occupy the entire field of vision. I also want to know what is still working. When do you laugh together? When do you feel like a team? What originally attracted you to one another? What do you still admire about your partner? When was the last time you felt genuinely close?

Small moments matter. Gottman's work talks about turning toward our partner's bids for connection—the little attempts people make throughout ordinary life to get one another's attention, interest or affection. A comment about something outside the window, a touch while passing in the kitchen, sending a funny message, asking how the meeting went—these don't look like major relationship events, but relationships are built from thousands of these small interactions.

Couples therapy therefore isn't only about becoming better at fighting. It's also about remembering how to be friends, partners and allies again.

Changing the Dance

Sometimes I describe recurring conflict as a dance that the couple has become extraordinarily good at performing. Each person knows the other's steps so well that either partner can start the whole sequence almost automatically.

The encouraging part is that if you can learn a dance, you can learn to change it. At first that may mean simply noticing, “Here we go again.” Later, one of you catches the pattern earlier. Eventually somebody responds differently and, because one step changes, the next step can't happen in quite the same way.

The goal isn't to eliminate disagreement or turn two people into endlessly calm, perfectly communicating partners. That wouldn't be particularly realistic—or particularly human. The goal is to help couples understand what's happening between them, recover more quickly when things go wrong, communicate what they actually need, and rediscover some of the connection that brought them together in the first place.

So the next time you find yourselves having that same fight again, it may be worth asking a different question. Instead of “Which one of us is right?” try asking:

“What keeps happening between us—and what are we each actually trying to get from the other?”

That can be a much more interesting conversation.

— Rory Batchilder, M.Ed., RP, CCC
Registered Psychotherapist & Canadian Certified Counsellor
Gottman-informed couples therapy