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June 15, 2026 · 6 min read

I think we're doing the thing

The day after Thanksgiving, 2008. I was supposed to be at Heather's family's house.

I was four hours late.

I was finishing a video — a proposal video I had been making for weeks. I did not tell her that. She did not know what was happening. She thought I was ending it. By the time I arrived she had been sitting with that for four hours. When I apologized, she minimized it. Said it was not a big deal. Let it go.

That evening, at Noccalula Falls in Gadsden, I got down on one knee in the Christmas lights. She said yes.

The wound from the afternoon disappeared under the joy of the evening. Nobody said anything. Nothing changed. We got engaged, and the pattern that would run the first decade of our marriage had its first win.


Every couple develops a cycle. Yours already has one. It started before the wedding.

That is not a warning. It is a description. The cycle is not your fault and it is not your partner's fault. It is what happens between two people when they are scared and trying to stay connected. The problem is not the cycle. The problem is not seeing it.

Here is what the cycle looks like from the inside. You are arguing about something that seems important — the dishes, the schedule, who was late for what. You are both saying things that feel true. The conversation gets louder or colder or both. One of you shuts down. The other pushes harder. Eventually it stops, but nothing is resolved. You are both confused about how you got there.

Sue Johnson spent her career studying this. She developed a method called Emotionally Focused Therapy by watching couples argue and asking one question: what is actually happening here?

What she found is that most couples are having two conversations at once. The surface conversation is about the dishes. The deeper conversation is about something older and scarier: Am I safe with you? Do you still want me? Are you going to leave?

The pursuer pushes because they need contact. The withdrawer goes quiet because they need space. The pursuer reads the silence as rejection and pushes harder. The withdrawer reads the pressure as attack and pulls back further. Both of them are trying to get to each other. Neither of them is making it.

The argument about the dishes is almost never about the dishes.


I am an Enneagram One. I have a reformer's instinct — I see what is wrong, I want to fix it, I tend to assume my read is correct. The gift is clarity and follow-through. The shadow is this: I override people. Not loudly, usually. Quietly.

I ask Heather where she wants to eat. She says Wendy's. I say, actually, let's go here instead.

She is an Enneagram Two. She puts other people's needs before her own. She says yes when she means no. She minimizes things that hurt her because she does not want to cause trouble. She swallowed her real preferences for years without either of us fully noticing.

That is the pattern. I steamroll. She absorbs. I do not feel the friction. She does not produce friction. The cycle runs smoothly and quietly until it doesn't.

For a long time I thought things were fine. She was experiencing something different, but I did not know to ask, and she did not know how to say.

Then she started talking. Not all at once. Slowly. She said no when she meant no. She said actually, I wanted Wendy's instead of letting it go. We fought more. The fights were uncomfortable, especially for me — I was not used to friction and did not know what to do with it. But we were finally having the real conversations instead of the managed ones.


We still have the cycle. We still get into it on the evening walk sometimes, about nothing, about everything. But we can see it now. And when we see it, we can say: I think we're doing the thing. Let's stop for a second.

The cycle you cannot name will run your marriage. The cycle you can name, you can interrupt.

That is not therapy. That is just what happens when two people stop arguing about the dishes and start asking what they are actually afraid of underneath them.

Before the wedding, sit down and describe the cycle you already have. Not the fights — the pattern underneath the fights. What do you do when you feel disconnected? What does your partner do? What are you each actually afraid of?

Name the thing. That is half the work.

Start with the conflict session in Tend.

Tend is a six-session premarital program delivered by text, email, or on screen. Free to start.

Start Tend →
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