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Couples therapy, marriage counseling, relationship counseling — no matter how you say it, most people view it as a bad thing. The unspoken definition is “your relationship has problems,” and this is your last resort to save it. That is probably the case for most when they decide to get counseling or therapy. But not always. It doesn’t have to mean your relationship is on the rocks, and you shouldn’t wait until it is. There are at least three times you should consider couples therapy in your relationship.
When my wife and I got married, we were clueless. We entered our marriage with child, something neither one of us recommend to couples today, as children bring a whole new dynamic to marriage. So, not only were we mid-20-somethings trying to learn how to live as one, but we also were trying to learn how to care for our baby at the same time.
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If it were a perfect world, or marriage, we would have waited to have children until after we were married, and we we would have done couples therapy or premarital counseling prior to getting married. We didn’t do that, but we did the next best thing. We went through a couples therapy in the form of a marriage class at our church. That saved our marriage before we even knew it needed to be saved.
Had we waited until we knew we needed counseling, or until we had no other options, we may have never made it. First, one of us was going to have to persuade the other to actually go to counseling, which this YourTango article discusses. What we learned and what we shared in the marriage class changed the course of our marriage and our lives. I’m almost certain we would have become one of the divorce statistics, or at least be in a marriage that neither one of us really wanted to be in. But here we are today, 12 years later, three kids later, writing and speaking about marriage.
Maybe you are part of the group that believes couples therapy is a last-ditch resort, and only for those whose relationships are all but over. Don’t let that stigma prevent you from doing something that can change the course of your marriage, and your life. Here are the 3 times you should consider couples therapy.
Before making the biggest commitment of your life — marriage.
I say it all the time, but marriage is the biggest and probably most important commitment you will ever make. When you are at the engagement ring stage, it is crucial that you seek counsel or therapy. It’ll help you determine if you even want to, or should be married, and it’ll help lay a great foundation that’ll give your marriage the chance to beat the odds.
Soon after making the biggest commitment of your life.
Once you get married, things are going to be a little different. Your adjustment from it being all about you to the adjustment of it being about you two takes some getting used to. You’ll begin to discover things during this “discoveRING” stage of marriage, about your spouse and yourself. Couples therapy can help you navigate this successfully and strengthen that foundation you set earlier.
Throughout each stage of your relationship.
Things may not get easier for all marriages as time passes, but they can become more fulfilling. And no matter how long you’ve been together, you still will encounter challenges, some new and some old, that can derail your marriage. Keep learning and growing together. During this stage your career, children, in-laws, friendships, and everything in between will have an impact. Being proactive and seeking some type of counseling will help you thrive.
Thus, I strongly support the idea of doing couples therapy throughout your relationship. Not one of us knows everything about marriage, nor have we experienced everything. Having something or someone in your relationship to help you see things without bias can be a great help!
What are your thoughts on couples who seek therapy?
Ask and ye shall receive… the second story of the attack of the giant beetles inside my apartment.
A week or two after the first incident, I had finally stopped looking for beetles around every corner. I decided that the giant life threatening beetle referenced in my last post was merely a coincidence. A one time deal. After all, my apartment is not especially prone to bugs. So my blood pressure had returned to normal and I could once again sleep at night without excessive scratching. Of course, this is where the story will go horribly wrong for me.
I was once again sitting on the couch and enjoying a quiet night in. Early in the evening, I heard some rattling of the blinds on the blacony door. Nothing serious, just sounds like they were shifting slightly. It was hot outside and the AC was on, so I decided that must be the culprit. A tiny voice in the back of my head warned me that this was a new noise and having the AC on was not a new thing. But I ignored it. No need to be paranoid, I told myself.
An hour or so later, the beetle found his way to the wall above my TV. That’s right, the exact same kind of big nasty beetle. I did not scream, although I admit I did dance and scratch a bit. But I also sighed and went in search of something I could use to reach and kill the nasty thing. After some careful rooting around, I spotted my black ballet flats. Triumphantly, I snatched up my new weapon and turned back to the wall to do the dirty dead.
But the beetle was gone.
One frantic search later, I located it on the vaulted ceiling of my apartment. Like 18′ up in the air. I waved the black ballet flat at the beetle in a menacing fashion but he seemed unimpressed. He didn’t move. We were at an impasse.
The real problem here was that I needed to go to bed. But now my blood pressure was elevated and there was a beetle on the loose. Clearly sleep was no longer an option until the beetle was dead. I mean, he could fly into the bedroom and land on me in my sleep! Seriously!
The beetle and I were clearly at a standoff, so I did the only thing I could really do at the point. I upped the ante. I threw my shoe at the ceiling. That’s right. I threw my shoe at the ceiling. Hit it too. But alas, I missed the beetle. He remained uninterested in me or my airborne black ballet flats. But now that I knew I could hit these high ceilings, I kept trying. I got close to the darn thing too, but never quite hit him.
The beetle tired of my game and took to the air, only to land on another spot too high to reach. Lather rinse repeat… my shoes flew once more. Then it happened. On one trip to retrieve my ballet flats, the beetle moved and I lost him. I stood in the kitchen in a panic brandishing my weapons of choice and deperately trying to locate the offending insect. I finally found him and he’d made a fatal mistake. He was within reach.
I approached the wall carefully, like a hunter stalking it’s obviously deadly prey. The beetle sat still. I drew my arm back slowly all while trying to stay as calm and still as possible. I locked eyes with the dirty giant beetle. And then I smacked him!
He spiraled off of the wall like a crashing airplane and I jumped back and screamed. And danced. And itched. But I had lost him. I knew it wasn’t a direct hit but I also knew he was wounded at the very least. Still I could not locate the beetle. I spent the next 15 minutes or so convincing myself that he had to be dead or dying somewhere. I finally went to bed.
And finally, I knew I had to ask for help. A few days later, when I had finally stopped skulking into the living room like a nervous deer, I had a friend come over to get rid of the bug. Yes, it’s true. I, Jane Wonder, called someone to dispose of a dead bug. And it was indeed dead… died right where it landed that night after I smacked it. And now it is gone.
Hopefully I won’t ever see another one of those damn things again.
I still hurt. I still don’t understand why. I am still startled and off balance over the whole thing. I am still wounded deeply. I still wish he would call, or write, or reappear. That we could talk. That this was all a bad mistake that we could go about fixing.
I’m tired. I will be sad for a while. Very sad. I don’t know how long. Probably longer than you think I should be. I will cry when no one’s looking.
BUT…
I’m done bleeding all over the internet. I have unlimited space and permission to do it, but it’s stopping now. This is me slapping a bandaid on it and pretending I can move on. I will fake it til I make it as that is the only option left.
I pulled him off of my IM list so I can no longer follow when he logs on and off. And, as badly as this hurt today, I deleted his contact info from my phone. I can no longer call or text or drive us both insane. If he wants me, he will have to take a step. I am here if he does, and I’m gone if he doesn’t.
As I grow stronger and the silence continues, I will remove him from other places. Until I can go for a day or two or even three without wondering, without looking, without seeking him out somehow. I will force myself to come around.
The stupid Tums are still on the counter though. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe.
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