Man, couples therapy saved our butts big time. I’ll walk you through exactly what we did because just reading books ain’t the same as sweating it out in that tiny office.
How We Hit Rock Bottom
Started when my wife smashed a plate during dinner fight. Not gonna lie – we’d been screaming about dirty dishes for months. Felt like roommates who hated each other. Slept back-to-back every night, stopped touching completely. Scary moment realizing we couldn’t fix this crap ourselves.
The Awkward First Session
Walked into therapist’s office like hostages. Our counselor Sarah made us do this stupid exercise: hold hands while complaining about each other. I hissed “You never listen!” through gritted teeth while squeezing Jen’s sweaty palm. Felt ridiculous but guess what? Actually made us crack up laughing midway through.
Sarah gave us homework that worked:
- The 6-Second Kiss Rule: Had to kiss before leaving for work – no quick pecks! Counted six full seconds like teenagers.
- Fight Charters: Wrote actual rules like “No toilet paper accusations after 9PM”. Put it on the damn fridge.
- Grievance Timeouts: When voices got loud, one had to yell “BANANA!” and we’d shut up for 10 minutes. Saved our sanity.
The Ugly Truth We Learned
After three months of weekly sessions, figured out our core problem: We weren’t fighting about chores or money. Jen felt invisible when I worked late, I felt attacked when she criticized. Therapy dug that poison out. Hardest part? Admitting we both contributed to the mess.
What Actually Fixed Things
Here’s the real-deal stuff that worked:
1. Scheduled Bitch Sessions: Every Tuesday at 7PM we go nuclear for 15 minutes max. Gets frustrations out without it leaking into date nights.
2. The Appreciation Jar: Corny but game-changing. Every night drop a note about one thing we didn’t hate about each other that day. Read them when we wanna strangle each other.
3. Relearning Touch: Seriously started with high-fives after work. Built up to holding hands at movies. Took four months before real intimacy came back.
Two years later, still use timeouts when fights get hairy. That plate-smashing incident? We joke about it now. Therapy ain’t magic – felt like emotional dentistry without anesthesia sometimes. But learning to fight fair kept us together when divorce papers were nearly on the table.
