When Violence Finds Us Through Screens: Healing from Secondary Trauma

In our current world, many of us experience trauma not only by being physically present at a violent event, but also through what we see, hear, and read in its aftermath. The recent news and circulating images of Charlie Kirk’s death are a reminder of this reality. Even if we weren’t there in person, witnessing violence through screens can leave us shaken, fearful, and heavy with emotion.

For some, these moments evoke sadness and grief. For others, they stir anger, numbness, or even a conflicted sense of justice. And for many, the constant stream of arguments and posts on social media can intensify the pain. Our responses are human, and they reflect how overwhelming it can be to hold so many perspectives and emotions at once.

Why We Feel It So Deeply

Our brains and bodies don’t always distinguish between what we see firsthand and what we experience indirectly. Images of violence, especially when they are replayed across news outlets and social feeds, can trigger the same fight, flight, or freeze responses as if we had been there. This is sometimes called secondary trauma or vicarious trauma. It can leave us feeling unsafe in our communities, disconnected from others, or worn down by the intensity of public discourse.

The Added Weight of Social Media

Social media often amplifies trauma. Instead of giving us space to grieve, it can:

• Flood us with repeated images and headlines we can’t unsee

• Expose us to polarized arguments that dismiss or attack our feelings

• Pressure us to “take a side” when our inner world may be more complex

• Create a cycle of outrage and exhaustion that leaves us feeling powerless

The very place many of us go for connection can sometimes increase our sense of isolation.

Signs You May Be Carrying This Trauma

• Heightened vigilance or fear in everyday life

• Intrusive thoughts or images of what you saw online

• Emotional numbness when new tragedies appear

• Anger or irritability that spills into daily interactions

• Feeling overwhelmed by the arguments and hostility on social platforms

If you recognize yourself in these experiences, you are not alone.

Steps Toward Healing

• Set boundaries online: Limit your exposure to distressing posts and arguments. Curate your feed so it serves your well-being.

• Name your feelings: Whether it’s grief, anger, fear, or indifference, acknowledging your reactions is part of healing.

• Seek safe spaces: Connect with people who can listen without judgment, whether friends, family, or a therapist.

• Ground your body: Small practices like breathing exercises, walking, journaling can calm your nervous system.

• Balance with hope: Look for signs of care, resilience, and humanity, even in small ways. These reminders can soften the weight of despair.

Remembering Our Shared Humanity

Each time tragedy strikes, we are faced with both the pain of division and the reminder of how deeply interconnected we are. Social media may amplify our fractures, but it can also become a place to share compassion and solidarity. Healing begins when we recognize the impact these images and arguments have on us, and when we choose to respond with care to ourselves and for one another.

When Two Become Three: Understanding Triangulation in Relationships

In many relationships, tension can build quietly, leaving partners unsure how to express their needs directly. Triangulation is a common pattern that emerges when one partner turns to a third person, entity, or even an activity to voice frustration, seek validation, or cope with conflict. While often unintentional, triangulation can create distance and misunderstanding over time.

Seeking Validation Elsewhere
One partner shares frustration about a recurring argument with a friend or family member, saying, “You know how hard it is to get them to see my point.” The listener offers support, but the partner never addresses the issue directly. Meanwhile, the other partner senses an unspoken tension, leaving both feeling disconnected.

Indirect Communication
During a shared moment, one partner hints at dissatisfaction about responsibilities, framing it as something others would understand. The partner on the receiving end may notice the comment but feels the concern is aimed elsewhere. Instead of opening a direct conversation, the tension lingers quietly.

Using Third Parties to Influence
Sometimes, a partner involves a child or family member in subtle ways, encouraging them to take sides. While this may provide temporary relief, it often leaves the other partner feeling isolated and frustrated, with the original conflict unresolved.

Emotional Outsourcing
Turning to colleagues or social groups for emotional support after a disagreement can feel comforting. Yet, returning home with that validation can create an emotional gap between partners, as the unspoken issues remain unaddressed.

Triangulation reflects deeper relational dynamics, including fear of confrontation, avoidance, or unmet emotional needs. It is rarely malicious, but it signals an opportunity for mindful engagement. Awareness of these patterns, along with therapy-supported strategies, helps partners move from indirect communication to authentic dialogue. By practicing vulnerability and direct expression, partners can foster understanding, rebuild connection, and address conflict without needing a third party.

Moving Beyond Survival: The Journey of Trauma Recovery

Trauma changes how we see ourselves, others, and the world. Whether it comes from a single event or a long history of pain, trauma leaves invisible wounds that often surface as anxiety, depression, relationship struggles, or feeling disconnected from life. But healing is possible.

Safety Comes First

Recovery begins by building a sense of safety, both internally and externally. This might mean practicing grounding skills, surrounding yourself with supportive relationships, or finding a therapist who can offer a steady and nonjudgmental presence.

The Body Remembers

Trauma doesn’t just live in memory, it lives in the body. Flashbacks, hypervigilance, and emotional numbing are not signs of weakness but the body’s attempt to protect you. Approaches like EMDR and somatic therapies help release trauma where it is stored in the nervous system.

Reclaiming Your Story

Trauma often robs people of their voice and sense of agency. In therapy, you can begin to tell your story at your own pace, reframing it from one of helplessness to one of survival and resilience.

Building a Life Beyond Trauma

The ultimate goal of healing is not simply reducing symptoms but creating a life where joy, trust, and connection are possible again. It is about moving from surviving to truly living.

Final Thought

Trauma may have shaped your past, but it doesn’t have to define your future. With compassion, support, and the right tools, you can reclaim your sense of self and step into a life of hope and wholeness.

5 Common Patterns That Block Healing After an Affair

Infidelity is one of the deepest ruptures a couple can experience. It shakes trust, safety, and identity. Many couples want to know: “Can we ever come back from this?” The answer isn’t about going back to what you had before. It’s about creating something new, together, with more honesty, depth, and intimacy.

Healing from an affair depends on how two inner worlds meet and shape each other in the aftermath of betrayal. Infidelity isn’t only about broken trust, it also raises questions about desire, identity, and meaning.

Yet many couples get caught in common patterns that can stall their healing. Naming these patterns can help partners notice them sooner and find a different way forward.

1. Rushing to “Forgive and Forget”

• Skipping past the grief and anger denies the emotional reality between partners. Both pain and shame need space to be acknowledged together.

• Infidelity isn’t just about sex; it often reflects unmet needs or a search for aliveness. Ignoring this deeper meaning keeps couples from truly rebuilding.

2. Getting Stuck in Interrogation Mode

• Endless questioning can become a defense against closeness, looping the couple in trauma rather than healing.

• Curiosity can be healing, but surveillance is not. Recovery requires shifting from detective work to meaningful dialogue.

3. Reducing the Relationship to “The Affair”

• When the entire relationship is defined by betrayal, couples lose sight of the complexity of their shared history.

• An affair reveals fractures but doesn’t erase the whole. Couples must hold the paradox: the betrayal matters, and it’s not the only story.

4. Treating Healing as an Individual Task

• Partners profoundly affect each other’s healing. Triggers and defenses reverberate between them. Repair happens in the space between, not in isolation.

• Both must take responsibility, not for the affair equally, but for the co-creation of what comes next in the rebuilding process.

5. Avoiding Desire and Intimacy Conversations

• Sexuality often becomes charged with shame or fear post-affair. Avoiding these conversations leaves intimacy fractured.

• Infidelity forces couples to face questions of desire and eroticism. Healing isn’t just about safety; it’s also about reawakening vitality and connection.

Closing Thought

Healing from an affair is not about returning to “how things used to be.” It’s about stepping into something new, where both partners face the uncomfortable truths about themselves, each other, and their relationship. With honesty, courage, and support, couples can move beyond survival into deeper intimacy.

The Body Remembers: How Trauma Shows Up in Everyday Life

You may not think of yourself as a trauma survivor. Maybe you didn’t experience a major accident, war, or natural disaster. But trauma isn’t always a single catastrophic event, sometimes it’s chronic stress, a painful relationship, childhood neglect, or moments when you felt unsafe and alone.

What many people don’t realize is that trauma doesn’t just live in memory. It lives in the body. Long after the event has passed, the nervous system remembers. And those memories show up in everyday life in ways that can be confusing, frustrating, or overwhelming.

Everyday Signs of a Nervous System on Alert

Trauma activates the body’s survival system. When that system never fully resets, it can show up like this:

• Startle responses – jumping at sudden noises or movements

• Tightness in the chest or stomach – feeling “on edge” even in safe moments

• Trouble sleeping – difficulty falling asleep or waking up in the night

• Irritability or reactivity – snapping at loved ones without knowing why

• Difficulty concentrating – brain fog, forgetfulness, or zoning out

• Numbing out – disconnecting from emotions or avoiding situations that feel overwhelming

These symptoms aren’t signs of weakness. They’re signs that your body is still trying to protect you.

Why the Body Holds On

Unfortunately the past doesn’t just vanish, it often gets replayed. Early experiences shape how we view ourselves, others, and the world. When trauma happens, especially in relationships, the nervous system encodes “templates” for safety and danger.

This is why someone who grew up walking on eggshells around a volatile parent might still feel anxious when their partner raises a voice, even if no harm is present. The body says, “I know this. I’ve been here before. Protect.”

In EMDR and other trauma therapies, we work with this embodied memory directly. The goal isn’t just to talk about what happened, but to help the nervous system finally release what it’s been holding.

Healing: From Survival to Safety

The good news is that what is wired in can be rewired. Healing is about moving from survival mode into a sense of safety and connection. In therapy, that often means:

• Naming what the body is saying – learning to recognize triggers and body signals

• Reprocessing traumatic memories – with tools like EMDR to release the nervous system’s grip

• Rewriting relational patterns – practicing new ways of connecting that feel safe and secure

• Building self-compassion – shifting from “what’s wrong with me?” to “my body is trying to protect me.”

Over time, people notice that they’re less reactive, more grounded, and able to experience joy, intimacy, and calm without the constant background hum of hypervigilance.

A Note of Hope

If you see yourself in these descriptions, it doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your body has been protecting you in the only way it knew how. Healing is possible. With the right support, the body can learn a new language, one of safety, freedom, and connection.

The body remembers, and it can also relearn.

Healing After Betrayal: What Couples Can Expect in Therapy

When betrayal enters a relationship, whether thats through an affair, secrecy, or a broken promise the impact is seismic. The relationship you thought you were in is gone, and both partners are left in the rubble, wondering if anything can be salvaged.

Yet affairs don’t just rupture a relationship, they also reveal. They reveal unmet needs, unspoken longings, and the fault lines that may have been invisible until now. This duality is painful, but it can also be the beginning of something new: a more honest, resilient, and connected relationship than the one that existed before.

The First Stage: Shock and Survival

The discovery of betrayal is often traumatic. The partner who was betrayed may feel grief, rage, disbelief, or shame. The partner who strayed may feel guilt, defensiveness, shame, or fear of losing everything.

In therapy, the first step is stabilization, making space for each partner to speak and to be heard, while protecting against further harm. This isn’t about forgiveness yet; it’s about emotional survival and grounding when the world feels turned upside down.

The Second Stage: Asking “Why?”

After the initial shock, couples often find themselves circling the same question: Why did this happen?

For the betrayed partner, “why” is about making sense of what feels senseless. For the partner who strayed, “why” is about exploring what the affair represented… passion, validation, freedom, escape, or a longing for a part of themselves that felt lost or cut off.

It is not about excusing betrayal or minimizing the pain it caused, its about making meaning. It’s about moving beyond the surface of the act to uncover the deeper story:

• What did the affair awaken in the partner who strayed?

• What longings or vulnerabilities were left unspoken in the relationship?

• What patterns of distance or disconnection may have quietly shaped the bond?

This process is rarely neat. It often brings forward uncomfortable truths, but it also creates the possibility of transformation. By making meaning, couples begin to understand not only what broke, but what might need to be rebuilt differently if the relationship is to move forward.

Answering “why” does not excuse the betrayal. Instead, it reframes the affair as more than a crime of lust or opportunity. It becomes a window into the dynamics of the relationship, as well as the inner world of each partner. Sometimes an affair isn’t about leaving the other person, but about leaving the version of oneself that felt trapped, unseen, or disconnected.

This deeper understanding is painful, and it’s also the beginning of transformation.

The Third Stage: Rebuilding Trust

Trust is not repaired with promises. It is rebuilt through consistent action over time.

In therapy, rebuilding trust often means:

• Radical transparency from the partner who betrayed trust

• Patience for questions, triggers, and painful emotions from the betrayed partner

• New agreements around communication, boundaries, and intimacy

It’s not about returning to “normal.” It’s about creating something sturdier and more intentional than what existed before.

The Fourth Stage: Creating a New Relationship

The paradox of betrayal is that, if couples are willing to do the work, it can be a catalyst for growth. Many couples who commit to the process of healing discover that their relationship becomes more alive, more connected, and more truthful.

This new relationship is built not on the illusion of safety, but on a deeper knowing of each other’s vulnerabilities and needs. Affairs may destroy the old marriage, and they can also give birth to a new one.

A Note of Hope

If you’re navigating betrayal right now, it may feel like nothing could be harder. That’s true, and yet it is also true that repair is possible. Couples therapy provides the structure, guidance, and safety to navigate this fragile terrain.

Betrayal may mark the end of what was, and it can also be the beginning of what’s next. With care, courage, and support, healing is possible. And for many, love can be rediscovered in deeper, more authentic ways than ever before.

Gaslighting: When Doubt Becomes the Weapon

You’re not sure when it started, maybe it was the way they’d brush off your feelings, or how their version of events never quite matched yours. You began to question yourself, replaying conversations in your head, wondering if you were the one who got it wrong.

That slow erosion of trust in your own perception? That’s gaslighting.

What Is Gaslighting, Really?

Gaslighting isn’t just lying. It’s not simply disagreeing. It’s a deliberate (though not always conscious) pattern of manipulation designed to make you question your reality, your memory, and even your sanity.

The term comes from the 1944 film Gaslight, where a husband slowly convinces his wife she’s losing her mind by dimming the gaslights in their home and then denying it’s happening. She comes to doubt her senses, her instincts, and eventually, herself.

Modern gaslighting may not involve flickering lights, but the effect is just as disorienting.

The Subtle Mechanics of Gaslighting

Gaslighting works slowly. It’s not usually one explosive moment, it’s the accumulation of a thousand small ones:

• “You’re too sensitive.”

• “That never happened.”

• “You’re imagining things again.”

• “Why would you even think that? What’s wrong with you?”

Over time, the gaslighter shifts the ground beneath you. You stop trusting your memory. You hesitate before speaking. You second-guess your instincts. You begin to wonder if maybe they’re right. Maybe you are too sensitive, too emotional, too dramatic, too much.

But gaslighting isn't about the truth. It’s about power.

Why It Hurts So Much

Gaslighting doesn’t just confuse you, it disconnects you from yourself. From your intuition. From your internal compass. That’s what makes it so devastating.

And it doesn’t always happen in abusive relationships. It can occur in friendships, families, workplaces, and even in broader social systems. Anywhere there’s a power imbalance and a fear of being wrong, gaslighting can creep in.

It’s especially dangerous because it hides inside love, loyalty, and longing. You want to believe the other person has your best interests at heart. You want to keep the peace. You want to be fair. But gaslighting turns those very desires against you.

What It Can Sound Like

Gaslighting often shows up in language like:

• “You’re remembering it wrong.”

• “You always make everything about you.”

• “You’re being paranoid.”

• “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

• “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

Sometimes, it's more subtle. It’s a raised eyebrow, a dismissive shrug, a silent treatment that makes you feel like you're the problem for even bringing something up.

How to Recognize It

If you’re unsure whether you’re being gaslit, look for signs in yourself:

• You feel like you're walking on eggshells.

• You frequently second-guess your thoughts and feelings.

• You apologize constantly, even when you’re not sure what you did wrong.

• You feel confused, anxious, or “off,” but can’t explain why.

• You find yourself defending someone who hurts you.

These are not signs of weakness. They are signs that your nervous system is working overtime to make sense of something that doesn't make sense.

Healing From Gaslighting

Gaslighting isolates you from your truth. Healing means coming back home to yourself.

• Start by trusting your gut again. That uneasy feeling you keep pushing away? Listen to it.

• Keep a journal. Write things down so your reality has a place to live outside of someone else’s distortion.

• Talk to someone safe. A therapist. A friend. Someone who believes you, without twisting your words.

• Set boundaries. You don’t owe anyone unlimited access to your mind and emotions, especially someone who manipulates them.

Most importantly, remember this: if someone consistently makes you feel small, confused, or crazy, that is not love. That is control.

You Are Not Broken

Gaslighting doesn’t work because you’re weak. It works because you’re human. It works because you want connection, because you’re willing to self-reflect, because you care.

The antidote to gaslighting is not convincing the other person to see you clearly. It’s reclaiming your own clarity. Your voice. Your inner truth.

You don’t have to doubt yourself forever. The path back to trust, your trust, is still there. Waiting for you.

When Love Gets Tough, Liking Each Other Matters Most

Love is often painted as the glue that holds a couple together. And it is. But love can also be elusive in hard moments, when trust is frayed, when exhaustion outweighs affection, when the past barges into the present, uninvited. In those moments, it isn’t always love that carries you through. It’s something quieter, often overlooked, but no less vital:

Do you like each other?

Not in the heady, “we like all the same music” kind of way. But in the deeper, steadier sense. Do you like who your partner is when the romantic fog lifts? Do you like how they treat people, how they speak about their friends, how they respond when things don’t go their way? Do you like how they repair after hurting you, or try to?

Because here’s the truth: Love can survive for a time without liking. But a relationship can’t thrive that way.

In therapy, I often see couples who love each other deeply but are worn down by resentment, criticism, and chronic disappointment. They say things like, “Of course I love him… I just can’t stand being around him right now.” Or, “I know she loves me, but I don’t think she respects me anymore.” What they're describing isn’t a lack of love. It’s the absence of liking.

Liking makes room for playfulness when things feel heavy, and for patience when everything else is fraying. It’s what allows you to say, “I’m furious with you right now, and I still want to sit next to you on the couch.”

Liking someone means you still see their humanity, even when you're hurt. It means you remember what’s good about them, even when what's hard feels the loudest. It’s the thing that helps you reach for their hand not because everything is okay, but because you both want it to be.

So if you’re in a rough patch, ask yourself not just “Do I still love them?” but “Do I still like them?” And if the answer feels distant, don’t panic. That distance can be closed. Sometimes liking each other again is a process of rediscovery: learning how to laugh together again, how to listen without defensiveness, how to be curious about each other instead of critical.

Love may be the heart of the relationship. But liking is what lets that heart keep beating, even when it’s bruised.

Because when love gets hard, and it always will, it’s liking each other that reminds us why we ever wanted to try in the first place.

The Illusion of Fireworks: A MFT's Take on the Meaning of Independence

There’s a strange hollowness that can accompany holidays, especially the ones draped in symbols of triumph.

Every year on July 4th, we gather under exploding skies to celebrate our country’s independence. The rituals are familiar: red-white-and-blue paper plates, the smoky scent of barbecue, kids with sparklers, adults with beer. And, of course, the fireworks.

But what are we really celebrating?

From my perspective, the word “independence” doesn’t signal freedom in the way we often think. It’s not the clean severance, the heroic autonomy, the myth of the self-made individual. It’s something murkier. More painful. More intimate. And perhaps less celebratory than we’d like to admit.

Because real independence doesn’t come in a burst of light. It comes slowly, and with grief.

The Myth of Self-Mastery

Many of us are taught from a young age that independence is the goal. To not need, to not rely, to not feel beholden. We internalize the idea that the stronger I am, the less I need you. That to be free is to be disentangled. So we become high-functioning, high-achieving, self-contained… independent.

But in the therapy room, we often find that this “independence” is actually a defense, a shield against longing, vulnerability, dependency. Behind the self-sufficiency is often an ache. A child who learned that their needs were too much. A teen who couldn’t afford to rebel without losing safety. An adult who keeps everything and everyone together, all the while wondering why they feel so alone.

Dependence Is Not the Enemy

I want to invite us to reimagine dependence not as weakness, but as a necessary condition for growth. We never stop needing others, not as infants, not as adults. What changes is the way we relate to our need.

In therapy, independence is not an endpoint. It’s a process of differentiation that happens in the context of deep relationship. Not “I don’t need you,” but “I can be me while staying in connection with you.” That is a far more complicated kind of freedom. One that requires us to feel our dependency, to tolerate the anxiety of being known, to risk that our autonomy will not cost us love.

It is excruciating. And it is worth everything.

Legacy and Lineage

Then there’s the collective unconscious, the inherited emotional history we carry, especially in this country. Our national origin story is one of rebellion, conquest, and independence. But also one of disavowed trauma like colonization, genocide, slavery, and silenced grief. There is no true independence without reckoning. Without acknowledging who paid the price for our freedom.

For many clients, especially those from marginalized communities, July 4th doesn’t feel like a celebration. It feels like a rupture. A reminder of who was never invited into the dream. Therapy often becomes a space where people begin to untangle these intergenerational legacies, what it means to be “free” in a system that was never built for you. Or to carry the burden of ancestral survival while also trying to find space to rest, to soften, to become.

The Fireworks Inside

So maybe the question is not whether we feel proud or patriotic. Maybe the better question is: Where am I still trying to become free?

What internal colonizers still rule my psyche? What parts of me have been silenced, enslaved, exiled? Where have I declared independence prematurely, cutting off connection, numbing emotion, dissociating from need, in the name of “strength”?

And what would it mean, truly, to come home to myself?

Because sometimes, the path to freedom is not a declaration. It’s a quiet, painstaking journey back to the parts of us we left behind in order to survive.

This Independence Day, if the fireworks feel too loud, too bright, too performative, that’s okay. You’re not ungrateful. You might just be in touch with a deeper truth, that real liberation is internal. Slow. Messy. Full of contradiction. And absolutely worth the fight.

Even if no one’s watching.

Even if there are no fireworks.

The Ache to Be Alike: When the Threat of Differences Show Up in a Couple's Therapy Room

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, barely looking at each other.

He crossed his arms. She looked out the window.

I had asked a simple question, something about what made them feel safe with each other when things were good. She didn’t answer right away. He spoke first.

“I just want us to be on the same page, just like we used to be. We liked the same music, wanted the same things. Now everything’s a debate.”

She sighed. Not an eye-roll exactly, but the kind of sigh that carries years of trying to explain something that doesn’t translate.

“We weren’t the same,” she said quietly. “You just never noticed I was editing myself.”

That’s when I knew we weren’t just talking about conflict. We were brushing against something deeper… twinship.

He wasn’t trying to dominate her. In fact, he was tender in his own way, eager to repair, to fix, to understand. But underneath that urgency was a fear I could feel in the room. “If we’re different, maybe we’re not okay.”

And for her, that sameness he longed for didn’t feel like connection. It felt like annihilation.

Like being asked to disappear in order to stay loved.

In the language of self psychology, twinship lives in the ache to feel “like” someone else. Not similar in tastes or politics or morning routines, but in essence. In one’s emotional makeup. In what it means to be a person moving through this world.

When that need goes unmet in early life, we carry it with us. Some people try to recreate it in adult relationships. Not consciously, not manipulatively. But with a quiet desperation, “If you and I are the same, then I know I belong. Then I know I’m real.”

But when the other person starts to individuate, to assert difference, it stirs up something ancient. Panic. Threat.

Over time, he began to realize he wasn’t asking her to agree with him, he was asking her to make him feel safe.

And she began to see that underneath his need for sameness wasn’t entitlement, but vulnerability.

That shifted things.

He said one day, “I didn’t know that asking you to see things my way was really me asking, do you still see me at all?”

And she cried. Because she finally heard him, not as someone trying to control her, but as someone trying to not disappear.

This is what twinship does in couples, it whispers the lie that we have to be the same to be close. That if you are different from me, I might vanish.

And so often, that whisper is coming from an early wound, the child part of us that never quite felt mirrored, never quite felt like we belonged.

But in the therapy room, when we can name that fear, when a partner can say, “I don’t need you to be me, I just need to know you see me and you’re not leaving,” it creates room for a deeper kind of intimacy.

Not built on sameness, but on recognition. Recognition that different is not a threat. Different is simply different.

Now, they still don’t agree on everything. They still bump into difference. But something’s changed.

Less fear, more curiosity. Less performance, more presence. Less defensiveness, more openness.

And maybe that’s the gift of therapy, not to erase the differences between us, but to help us hold the differences in each of us, without feeling like we’re losing ourselves.

Because sometimes, the most healing thing in the world isn’t to be the same.

It’s to be seen as different, and loved anyway.

Why We Push Away the People We Love

If you’ve ever caught yourself shutting down, picking a fight, or pulling away from someone you deeply care about, you’re not alone.

And you’re not broken.

In fact, I see this all the time in couples therapy:
People come in frustrated, confused, and hurt.
One says:

“I just want to feel close to them.”
The other responds:
“Then why does it feel like you’re always pushing me away?”

It’s one of the most painful and confusing things about relationships.
When we finally get the closeness, connection, and safety we want something inside us tightens instead of softening.

This Isn’t About Love. It’s About Protection.

What most people don’t realize is that when we push someone away, we’re usually not trying to hurt them.
We’re trying to protect something vulnerable inside ourselves.

The closer someone gets to our most tender parts like our fears, our needs, and our sense of worth, the more likely it is that old defenses come online.

Defenses aren’t always bad behavior to fix. They can be creative, protective strategies. They were built to survive emotional risk, and often, we are doing the best we can with what we learned early on.

Common Defenses in Relationships (That Don’t Always Look Like Defenses)

Here are a few protective strategies I see show up again and again in couples:

• Withdrawal / Emotional Detachment
  “I don’t want to fight, so I just go numb or disappear.”
  Often learned in homes where emotional intensity felt overwhelming or unsafe.

• Criticism / Control
  “If I can get them to do it right, then I’ll finally feel safe.”
  Underneath is often a fear of abandonment or emotional chaos.

• Sarcasm / Intellectualizing
  “If I can make a joke of this or analyze it to death, I won’t have to feel it.”
  Protects from vulnerability by staying in the head, not the heart.

• Shame-Based Self-Blame
  “If I’m the problem, then at least I have some control.”
  Learned when love felt conditional or tied to performance.

• Avoidance of Intimacy
  “I want connection, but when it starts to happen, I panic.”
  Often shows up in people with anxious-avoidant attachment histories.

And here's the thing: these strategies usually made perfect sense at some point in your life, and they actually worked.

They helped you survive emotional environments that didn’t feel fully safe, consistent, or attuned.
But in adult relationships, those same strategies can backfire, especially when both partners are protecting and neither feels truly seen.

Defenses Are Adaptive… Until They Aren’t

 Defenses are meaningful adaptations of where you had to find a workaround to stay in relationship.

But as we grow, defenses that once kept us safe can become walls that keep others out.

The very moment that calls for softness and closeness might be the moment your system says: “This is too risky.”

It’s not because you don’t love your partner.
It’s because your body remembers what it felt like to need and not receive.
To love and be disappointed.
To be vulnerable and unprotected.

In the Therapy Room, We Listen Differently

In relational psychotherapy, we’re not trying to strip away defenses or shame them into submission.

Instead, we get curious.

We wonder together:

• What part of you is trying to protect you right now?

• Where did this strategy first make sense?

• What is this defense afraid will happen if you let it go?

Often, the answer is incredibly tender.

“If I let myself need them, and they don’t come through, I’ll fall apart.”
“If I show them how much I care, and they leave, I won’t be alone.”
“If I stay quiet, I don’t have to risk hearing that I’m too much.”

Once we slow things down and hear the fear under the defense, the relationship starts to shift.

Defenses Begin in Relationship—And Heal There, Too

One of the hardest truths is also one of the most hopeful:
We learned to protect ourselves in relationship. And we can learn to trust again in relationship, too.

When couples begin to name and understand each other’s defenses, not as flaws, but as signs of old pain, something softens. There’s more room for compassion. Less blaming. More safety to show up with the raw stuff.

It’s not quick work. But it’s deeply human.

A Personal Note

If you find yourself pushing away the person you love, try offering yourself some gentleness first. That push isn’t cruelty, it’s caution.

It means something inside you still wants to be protected.

And if you’re the partner being pushed away, try to remember: the withdrawal, the anger, the shutting down, these are strategies, not the whole story.

There’s almost always something underneath.

 Want support decoding your defenses—together?

I work with couples and individuals who are tired of repeating the same painful patterns and ready to understand what’s happening underneath.

If you're ready to explore why you protect yourself the way you do, and what it might mean to feel safe with someone else, let’s talk.

Feel free to reach out, and schedule a free consultation.

You don’t have to keep pushing love away.

The Myth of the Perfect Fit: Why Healthy Relationships Need Friction

I cant tell you how many times I’ve heard couples say something like this:

“Why is this relationship so hard!”

“Why can’t they just meet my need without me telling them?”

“If they could just understand me…”

I get it. We all grow up with some version of the idea that the “right” relationship should feel effortless. That we are supposed to find “the person,” to fall in love with, and everything just works.

But the truth of it is, healthy love needs friction.

Friction is not necessarily a sign that things are broken or wrong. It’s often the substance that creates relationships to grow.

Where the “Perfect Fit” Fantasy Comes From

Many of us enter relationships carrying hopes that we are not even fully aware of. Deep down, we might be longing for someone who just “gets us” without us needing to explain. Someone who will soothe our fears, meet our needs without asking, and understands us.

That hope often comes from very early experiences, like the times we were held, and the times we were let down. There are experiences from childhood that tell us, “Maybe this time, it will different. Maybe this time, I’ll get what I didn’t get.”

It’s tender. It’s human. And it’s also a fantasy. No partner, no matter how loving and connected they are, can fully meet our needs. But every fantasy tells a story of deep meaning and longing.

Friction is Where Growth Happens

What looks like “we are not a perfect match,” is often just two people bumping into each other’s stories. One person might pull away when they feel overwhelmed. The other might reach for closeness when they are scared. Both reactions make sense in context, but without understanding, they can feel like rejection or attack.

That bump, what we often call conflict or misalignment, isn’t a flaw in the relationship. It’s the start of a deeper conversation. It’s the chance to ask:

What is this really about?

When couples can get curious instead of reactive, friction becomes an opportunity not a threat.

Letting Go of the Fantasy

Loving someone means you’re going to hurt each other sometimes. Not intentionally hurt each other, but because you are human, and you are two different people, with two different stories, and you both have lived through pain, it’s inevitable.

But it also means you have the chance to show up in ways that maybe no one has before. To listen more deeply. To slow down. To stay emotionally present when things get hard.

And over time, that kind of love can start to rewrite old stories, not by being perfect, but by being willing to stay connected, present, and open.

Love That Includes Friction

The kind of love that really changes us isn’t about seamless compatibility. Let’s be honest eventually that would get boring and dull. It’s about having the courage to stay connected even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy.

The rub is where your story meet’s your partner’s story. Where old wounds collide. Where something vulnerable longs to be seen.

And when you both choose to stay open, curious, and kind, you are not just building a relationship. You are building something deep and healthy.

Ready to Grow Through the Friction

If you and your partner are stuck in a loop, or feel like you keep hitting a wall, you are not alone and you are not broken. This might actually be the doorway into something deeper and more meaningful.

I specialize in helping couples navigate these turning points with compassion and depth. If you are ready to explore the emotional undercurrents in your relationship and reconnect in a more meaningful way, I am here to help.

Feel free to reach out for a free consultation.

You don’t need a perfect fit, you just need two willing hearts and a safe space to do the work.

13 Things You Do Because of Anxiety

I came across this video the other day and thought it briefly summed up common symptoms of anxiety. After #5 they do a short advertisement for their sponsor, so make sure to stay with it for #6-13.

We all experience a little anxiety from time to time, however, those who struggle with anxiety can feel exhausted, overwhelmed, and it can be debilitating. There is help. Seeking a therapist or counselor who specializes in anxiety, can help you manage and cope with anxiety. If you or a loved one has anxiety please feel free to contact me. 

Dustin Shultz, LMFT. I am a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, speaker, and adjunct faculty at Azusa Pacific University. I have experience working with teens, men, women, and couples, and have had success with people who are experiencing depression, anxiety, trauma, sexuality, divorce, affairs, cutting, grief, shame, stress, and life transitions. I help people live more authentically and embrace life