At a glance
Relationship burnout and a genuine crisis feel alike from inside, but one leaves you weary of each other and the other leaves you unable to reach each other. Usually no single event explains it, which makes it harder to name. Here you can tell the two apart and see what you can still do.
Clinical insights from 22 years in psychotherapy
I’m Mark Colclough, MA, psychotherapist in Copenhagen. Qualified at the Psychosynthesis Education Trust and the University of East London. 22 years of full-time, face-to-face clinical practice.
- Late, rarely sudden. When clients finally use the word crisis, most can point back to a quieter period, often years before, when certain things stopped being said.
- One partner looks calm, and both are scared. Clients often arrive with one person openly upset and the other apparently steady, and I tend to worry more about the steadiness.
- The topic keeps changing; the argument does not. Clients describe rows about money, holidays, dishes and in-laws without noticing that it was the same row each time.
Clinical notes: My observations are anonymised and compounded from my session notes since 2004.
How can we tell burnout from a real crisis?
Burnout drains you. A crisis changes what you expect of each other.
What I pay attention to is less the volume than whether you still assume your partner means well. With relationship burnout you are worn out by your partner, yet you still take them at their word. In a crisis you have started decoding them. A slow reply to a message carries meaning. So does a sigh at the sink. You often feel it in your body before you can put it into words: your shoulders rising as you hear the key in the door. That move from listening to interpreting tends to be the real shift, and it creeps in so gradually that neither of you could say when it began.
The other thing I look for is repair. Most couples have their own way back after a bad exchange, whether a joke, a cup of tea or a hand on the arm in the hallway. When those gestures stop landing, or stop being made, the rows do not necessarily grow louder. They simply never finish. That tends to be when people reach for the word crisis.
Why does trying to fix it keep making it worse?
Usually because each of you is attempting the opposite kind of repair at the same moment.
One of you needs to sort it out now, while it is raw, because leaving it hanging feels intolerable. The other needs space, because staying risks saying something that cannot be unsaid. Taken separately, both make sense. Put together, they form a circuit: the harder one pursues, the further the other retreats, and the further they retreat, the harder the first one pursues. I have written more about this in the pursue withdraw cycle.
A study of 175 couples in Spain found that when one partner reported pulling back during conflict, the other partner tended to report more demanding or aggressive responses, and the link ran in both directions.1 Everyone filled in questionnaires once, so the study cannot show which came first, and the couples were a single community sample, better educated than average. Still, the pattern is familiar in therapy, and couples are often able to spot it together before anything else.
What makes the circuit so hard to break from inside is that you both have evidence. You are accurate about what your partner does, and they are accurate about you. Neither of you can see your own contribution, because you are busy reacting to what has already happened.
What has actually broken between us?
For most couples I work with, love has not disappeared. What has gone is the confidence that the other person will move towards you.
That confidence is built from countless small moments, most of them ordinary. You say something a little exposed, and your partner turns towards it, or they don’t. A single miss means little. Hundreds of them, spread across a few years, teach you to keep quiet. By the time you reach a crisis you may both have stopped offering, and each of you experiences that as the other pulling away.
This is why couples in crisis so often fight about housework, money and weekend plans. Those topics feel safe enough to fight about. Underneath is usually some form of the question do I still matter to you, which feels too raw to ask someone you no longer trust with it. In couples from different countries it can be harder still to hear, because a small gesture of care in one family may not register as care in the other.
Can we find our way back, and do we each want that?
These are separate questions, and the second is often the one nobody dares to say aloud.
In my experience the couples who find their way back are not the ones with the fewest difficulties. They are the ones in which both people can still be moved by each other. That openness can be buried beneath a lot of anger and still be alive. It can also have truly gone in one partner without the other knowing, which is a different situation and needs to be said rather than guessed.
It helps to ask yourself honestly which you want: the relationship, or simply for the crisis to end. They are different wishes, and they point in different directions. In my work with couples I draw on Leslie Greenberg’s emotion-focused therapy, which looks beneath the stance each of you has adopted to find the feeling that led you to it. That takes longer than agreeing new rules, but it reaches what rules cannot.
What can help this week, and when will it fall short?
Put solving it aside for now and aim to understand it; solutions tend to follow understanding.
A few things that often help couples in the thick of it:
- Name the pattern rather than the culprit. Agree that there is a cycle you both play a part in. It is a rare statement that lets both of you be right without either one losing.
- Agree how to pause. Not to dodge the issue, but to return to it at a set time, so that one of you leaving the room does not feel like being left.
- Offer one honest thing that is not a grievance. Many couples in crisis have stopped saying anything that does not sound like a charge sheet.
- Notice what goes well. Good moments still happen, but in a crisis they slip past unnoticed because you are both watching for the opposite.
Some situations go beyond what you can manage on your own. If one of you has already decided to leave and is waiting for the other to catch up, better communication cannot reach that; it has to be spoken. If something important is being hidden, the work usually cannot go around it. And if there is fear or intimidation between you, the picture of two equal partners caught in a cycle no longer fits, and that has to be looked at in its own right first.
If you both want to keep going but cannot find a way out of the cycle, online couples therapy gives you a place to slow things down enough to see what happens between you. If only one of you is willing, couples therapy on your own can still shift the pattern. Sessions run by video wherever you live, and a free 30-minute call is an easy way to begin.
Questions people ask
Have we left it too late for couples therapy?
No, and crisis is the point at which most couples reach out. How bad things have become matters less than whether you can both still be moved by each other.
Can I come if my partner will not?
Yes, because when one person responds differently, the pattern cannot run quite as it did. Sometimes that is also what makes the other partner willing in time.
Will you side with one of us?
No, though I will not pretend that you each contribute equally to everything. Being fair to both of you is different from treating every problem as equally shared.
How long does couples therapy take when we are in crisis?
I cannot answer that honestly before meeting you both. After a first session or two I can usually tell you whether there is real work to be done.
What happens in a first online couples session?
You each describe what has been happening, and I watch what unfolds between you on screen as closely as I listen to your words. By the end we usually share one description of the pattern instead of two rival versions.
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Sources
How this article was written: I choose the subject and the angle. An AI assistant researches and drafts. I read the draft, correct and improve it and stand behind every clinical statement. The professional and clinical judgement is mine.