What Actually Happens in Couples Therapy When It’s “Working”
- Apr 12
- 3 min read
"We can just schedule a regular time to talk at home."
"We can read a relationship book together, or listen to a podcast."
"We're both in individual therapy."
Those are explanations for why couples choose not to go to couples therapy together, and while none of these reasons are inherently wrong, and can absolutely create moments of insight or even temporary closeness, they tend to circle around something rather than actually step into it: the specific, uncomfortable, and often surprisingly intimate kind of interaction that couples therapy makes possible.
The issue is usually not whether couples are talking. Most couples talk all the time.
It’s how they talk, and more importantly, how much of themselves is actually present when they do.
People generally connect by drawing on different kinds of content.
These kinds of content don’t exist side by side as equal options, they exist on a spectrum, moving from the least vulnerable, least connecting interactions to the ones that carry the most emotional risk and, not coincidentally, the most potential for real connection.
Communicating about other people, things, and plans in the past and the future: "She seemed bored," "Did you take out the garbage?," "When's your mom coming?"
Communicating feelings: "I am disappointed that you forgot," "I was mad at him."
Supportive communication: "I trust that you'll do the right thing," "I get why you felt belittled."
Reflective communication: "What would be a different way of looking at it?" "What were you hoping would happen?"
Communicating with each other in the present: "It doesn't feel good when you say that to me," "I like the way you're looking at me."
Most couples spend the majority of their time in the first category: coordinating life, managing responsibilities, and exchanging information.
They then feel confused when the relationship starts to feel more like an operation than a place where they feel seen.
Even when couples move into talking about feelings or offering support, it can still feel contained, controlled, or slightly rehearsed, like something that could have been said to a friend or a coworker, rather than something fresh and exposed.
The further you move along this spectrum, the harder it becomes to hide.
The last type of communication, the present-moment, between-you-and-me kind is what tends to come naturally early on in relationships, when there is curiosity, attraction, and a willingness to be affected by one another.
It’s also the riskiest form of communication.
Instead of talking about something, you are naming what’s happening between you as it’s happening, letting yourself be seen without fully knowing how it will land, and allowing your partner to impact you in ways you can’t fully control.
That kind of risk is exactly what injects life into a relationship.
In my work with couples, the primary focus is facilitating, supporting and guiding them towards the kind of communication that’s difficult to access on your own without it quickly escalating or shutting down.
The details of last night's argument, differences in views on raising kids or negotiating who does more housework are secondary to what is happening between you while you’re talking about it.
The power of tracking and sharing what’s happening in the present moment is that it interrupts those well-rehearsed patterns and replaces them with something far less predictable and far more honest.
It disarms the need to prove who’s right. It makes space for something unscripted.
As a therapist, part of what I do in the room is slow that moment down just enough so that instead of defaulting to those patterns, something new can happen between you.
And that “something new” is usually what people describe when they say therapy is working.
Kate Winkler offers relationship therapy to individuals and couples who reside in NJ. Click here to book your first session.
