The couples I worry about don’t fight. I’m worried when you stop.

Ever have one of those days when everything that can go wrong does, but you say to yourself:

“Not today. I’m not letting anything bring me down.”

That was my yesterday.

But then I woke up today with the realization that I have to re-record an entire hour of video for the new Repairing Us course that was supposed to launch today.

It’s moments like this when you tell yourself:

“You have to redo all your work because the second version is going to be better!”

I feel like I’ve told myself that many times.

Especially back in the 90s and 2000s, before the cloud came along and we could type our essays into Google Docs.

Apparently DSLR cameras don‘t automatically record to the cloud.

Well, maybe they do. I just wouldn’t know because this 50-year-old isn’t quite savvy enough with tech to figure it out.

But there’s a point to me telling you this.

Because it relates to the course itself.

And more importantly, to you, your spouse, and the conflict that lives between you.

You see, fighting with your spouse is a good thing.

Yep. I said it.

Fighting is good because it means there’s still investment in your relationship.

It means getting what you want from your marriage still matters to you.

A lot.

Couples often think the cork in the bottle blocking a deeply loving and connected relationship is not knowing how to communicate better. Fight better. Or repair better.

But the “how” isn’t the cork.

The cork is no longer wanting to build a better relationship in the first place.

The cork is indifference.

Disinterest in your spouse concerns me far more than not knowing how to fight well.

Because if you’re fighting, you’re still showing up.

You’re still saying:

“This matters to me.”

“You matter to me.”

“What we have matters enough that I’m still trying to get something from it.”

If there’s genuine disinterest in your relationship, all is still not lost.

But I’ll be honest: my work as a couples therapist becomes infinitely harder when my job is helping someone find a reason to re-engage in their marriage.

So yes…

Fighting, in my book, is a good thing.

It tells me two people still care.

They simply have hopes, wants, and desires that need better understanding, better communication, and better actualizing.

And that we can work with.

Enter Repairing Us.

Meredith and I have worked hard to give you the tools and strategies we use to turn conflict from chaos into connection.

Because yes, we still fight.

And yes, we still know how to have a long, dragged-out one.

But the difference today is that even our bad fights rarely last longer than 45 minutes.

We’ve learned how to find our way back to each other.

And now, I’m going to show you how, with my new course.

Repairing Us will walk you through the exact sequence for moving through conflict, reconnecting, and repairing without losing each other in the process.

It was supposed to be in your hands today.

Instead, I’m going to go re-record an hour of video.

But I want you to remember this:

The fact that you fight isn’t necessarily evidence that your marriage is broken.

Sometimes it’s evidence that you both still give a damn.

You just need to learn what to do with it.

That’s what Meredith and I built Repairing Us to teach you.

In solutions and strength,

 

 

aka “Mr. Chosen & Cherished”

The Forgiven Spouse Manifesto: Part 3

The Forgiven Spouse Manifesto: Part 3

This final part of the Forgiven Spouse Manifesto is about moving through conflict without losing each other in the process.

And I want to start with something I know will be controversial:

If you find yourself losing respect or admiration for your spouse mid-conflict,

Or if you find yourself not really liking your partner as a person anymore,

That’s more of a red flag about you than it is about them.

Allow me to elaborate.

When I hear that someone no longer respects, admires, or even likes their spouse, it tells me something:

You may have developed a pain-saturated view of your relationship.

You’re no longer just seeing what your spouse did.

You’re seeing them through what they did.

And those are two very different things.

One of the most important things we can learn in marriage is how to separate what someone has done from who they are.

That gets infinitely harder when we lose our likability for them.

Which is why, when a relationship becomes overwhelmed by pain, one of the first places I want to go is back to likability. 

Back to being able to say, even mid-fight:

“I really don’t like what you did to me right now. But I still like you.”

Or even:

“I don’t like what you did. But I still choose to like you.”

Pain is inevitable in marriage. But marriage requires us to learn how to move through it.

I want you to imagine yourself as a rock in a river. The water hits you…

But instead of violently splashing off you, you allow it to flow around you.

Too many of us do the opposite in marriage.

We experience every disappointment, insensitive comment, or forgotten promise like it’s soaking us from head to toe.

Until eventually we become so full of pain that there’s nothing about us that pain doesn’t touch.

I want to help you stay dry. I want you to learn to recruit your spouse into a get-rid-of-pain campaign.

That starts with telling them:

“I’m upset.”

“I’m unhappy with what happened.”

“I’m hurting.”

But instead of immediately making them the target of your pain, ask them to help you eliminate it.

Let them help you to not get soaking wet with it.


A marriage can be good and still have problems

Everything I’m saying assumes something important.

There are certain covenants that have to exist inside a marriage:

Loyalty. Honesty. Fidelity. Transparency. Commitment.

When those things are actively being violated, or when there is ongoing deception, infidelity, or dishonesty, we have something different to repair.

But I meet so many couples who tell me:

“Our marriage is terrible.”

And then I look closer and discover….

Nobody is lying or cheating. They’re loyal and committed. They’re transparent and have built a life together.

They just fight.

And when I discover they don’t like each other very much right now, or intimacy has disappeared, I find myself wanting to say:

“Zoom out.”

You may not have a bad marriage. You actually have a beautiful marriage… just with problems.

There’s a difference.

The pain-saturated couple sees the problems and concludes the marriage is bad.

The joy-saturated couple can see the problems and everything else that’s beautiful.

Every marriage has its soft spot.

The question is whether we allow that vulnerability to exist without protecting it.

Let me ask you: 

When did we give up the job of protecting each other? 

When did the person who was supposed to defend us become the threat inside our home?

The faster we can cultivate joy, admiration, respect, and likability again, the easier it becomes to let pain move through us rather than accumulate inside us.


Betrayal creates two journeys

When there has been a gross breach of the covenant of marriage, something unexpected happens.

Both spouses are suddenly thrust onto a journey. 

But they’re not on the same one.

The person who broke the trust has to go on a journey of maturity. They have to wake up to the reality:

“I hurt someone I love through my actions.”

And then they have to decide what kind of person they’re going to become.

It’s not enough to say:

“I won’t do it again.”

You have to go deeper:

“I don’t want to be someone who hurts my spouse like this anymore.”

I absolutely believe people can change.

I believe someone can lose their moral compass, do something devastating, wake up to what they’ve done, mature, and spend the rest of their life being loyal and devoted to the person they once hurt.

But the betrayed spouse wakes up on a different journey. And they didn’t choose it.

Last night, they went to bed thinking they knew their spouse, and their marriage.

Today they discovered their spouse betrayed them.

Now they’re on a journey of forgiveness.

And in many ways, I think that’s the harder journey. One person chose the actions that put them there. The other person had the journey thrust upon them.

But both journeys require maturity. And the thread that connects those journeys is forgiveness.

I don’t believe you can have a truly Chosen & Cherished marriage while permanently withholding forgiveness from your spouse.

Relationships thrive on oxygen and forgiveness is what delivers it.


Stop turning behavior into identity

This matters even in ordinary conflict.

When people swear, call names, or say deliberately hurtful things during fights, they’re often trying to soothe pain with more pain.

They’re looking for what might feel good for five seconds.

But now there’s another wound… and another.

Maybe you have two wonderful weeks and then one terrible fight. You can tell yourself:

“We’re a couple that has terrible fights every two weeks.”

Or:

“We’re a couple that has amazing weeks that occasionally get interrupted by a fight.”

Those aren’t the same identity. And I think identity matters.

I struggle with anger, so I can acknowledge:

“I struggle to keep my anger from hurting my wife when we’re fighting. That’s my cross to bear.”

Because I bring that struggle into the light, now I can work on it. 

Anger doesn’t have to own me. Indeed, I can struggle with something without turning it into who I am.

We need to extend that same grace to our spouse.

Because one of the most important things you can do during conflict is keep the conflict about behavior instead of identity.

“I’m angry about what you said.”

“I’m hurt by what you did.”

“I’m disappointed by what happened.”

“I’m not going to turn those things into who I think you are.”

Name-calling does the opposite. It attacks identity.

So try this instead:

“When I saw you do that…”

“When you said that…”

“This is how that landed for me…”

Talk about how you experienced their behavior without turning their behavior into their identity.

Most of the everyday hurts we inflict on each other can probably be boiled down to three things:

We were thoughtless.

We were lazy.

Or we were insensitive.

“If I’d thought better, maybe I wouldn’t have done it.”

“If I’d put in more effort, maybe I would have done it.”

“If I’d been more sensitive, maybe I would have recognized how much I hurt you.”

To never be thoughtless, lazy, or insensitive would require something none of us can offer:

Perfection.

Your spouse is going to fail you. And you’re going to fail them. The question is what happens next.


Get out of the courtroom

When pain overwhelms likability, couples enter what I call courtroom culture.

Suddenly, we’re no longer two people trying to repair something. We become litigators. I have my evidence. You have yours.

I defend my truth and you defend yours. And both of us fight tooth and nail to win our case:

Who was right?

Who was wrong?

Who hurt whom more?

Who owes whom what?

But here’s the problem: there’s no restitution that can perfectly match emotional pain.

How exactly do you repay someone for saying something that broke their heart?

How do you compensate them for days, weeks, or months of feeling unwanted?

How do you make the scales balance?

You can’t.

Which is why I believe the off-ramp from courtroom culture is forgiveness. Without forgiveness, we keep seeking a favorable verdict that remains elusive.

And eventually we turtle. We go into our shells.

Turtling looks like a husband who emotionally shuts down. It looks like a wife who gives the silent treatment for three days.

But the deeper turtling is the kind when we start hiding our heart.

We allow scar tissue to build. And while that scar tissue is accumulates, something else slowly drains away:

Our likability for our spouse.


Repair cleanly

Which brings us to repair.

When something hurts in your marriage, don’t spend three hours arguing about who’s at fault.

Ask:

“How do we fix this together?”

“What can we do differently next time?”

“What can we learn from this?”

“How can I make it up to you?”

Those questions matter because they’re rooted in curiosity. And curiosity tells your spouse: your perspective matters to me.

If forgiveness were abundant in our marriage, how much would we actually need to dissect the pain?

If we’re determined to make our spouse understand exactly how badly we’re hurting, then we grab the only person who isn’t drowning and pull them underwater with us.

But that’s the opposite of what we need.

If you’re drowning, you don’t need your spouse to drown too.

You need them to help you back onto shore.


Reconnect before you repair

When you’re in the middle of a fight, stop. Catch your breath. Let your body come down. And then come back to each other.

We need to reconnect before we repair.

Because repair is possible when two people genuinely don’t feel safe with each other.

Sometimes reconnecting is as simple as relaxing your shoulders. Or sitting beside each other instead of across from each other.

Take their hand. Touch their elbow.

And say:

“We’re going to fix this. But can we hug first?”

Your goal is to communicate:

“You’re safe.”

“I’m not going to attack you.”

“I’m ready to repair.”

Then move toward curiosity:

“How can we fix this?”

“What could I do differently?”

“What could I say differently?”

“How can I make it up to you?”

The moment you become genuinely curious, you’ve stopped trying to win.

And that’s the point.

They need to know that even while you’re hurt, angry, disappointed, or confused, you’re still trying to find your way back to them.

Pain doesn’t have to disappear for you to choose each other. Conflict doesn’t even have to disappear.

If we can stop turning pain into identity, and dragging each other into the courtroom, we can stop trying to win.

And we can focus on repair.

Which brings me to the one sentence that matters more than anything you can ever say to your spouse:

“I’m sorry for how I hurt you—intentionally or unintentionally.”

That sentence makes room for forgiveness.

That sentence protects your spouse.

And that message communicates… 

That after everything we’ve been through… 

I still choose you.

In solutions and strength,

P.S. If this manifesto helped you see conflict and repair differently, my new book, Choosing Us, will take you even deeper.

It’s available for preorder now ahead of its November 3 release.

Preorder your copy and claim your FREE spot in my six-week Chosen & Cherished Marriage Intensive (a $1,500 value) and start building a marriage where both of you feel chosen and cherished again.

Preorder Choosing Us and claim your bonuses here.

The Forgiven Spouse Manifesto – Part 2

If you haven’t read Part 1 of this Manifesto, I challenged you to ask your spouse one question:

“How can I show you that I choose you today?”

Some of the responses people shared with me were beautiful.

“I asked my husband. He thought for several seconds and said, ‘I don’t know how to answer that.’ Then he got up, came over, and kissed me.”

That’s a meaningful win.

But one woman had a very different experience. She said:

“I asked him over our morning coffee while holding his hand. I got a blank, stunned look.

“He said, ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that,’ as though I was supposed to figure it out for him.

“That was all there was to it. It was void of any sense of connection or emotion. No further discussion was had.

“Then he promptly left to handle some things for his parents for the remainder of the day. He hasn’t been home yet and does not plan to join me during the call this evening.

“I feel so lost, disconnected, and discouraged.”

And it’s her response I want to begin with today.

Because what happens when you go first and your spouse doesn’t respond the way you hoped? 

What happens when you reach for them and they don’t reach back?

What happens when the question that was supposed to help them feel chosen only seems to push them further away?

 


This Is a New Language

Early in my career, after earning my graduate degree in marriage and family therapy, I decided I wanted to build an online practice.

Around that time, I listened to the infamous internet marketer Tai Lopez. One thing he said has always stuck with me:

“First they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. And then they join you.”

Why am I quoting an internet marketer in a manifesto about forgiveness?

Because this is a new language.

And it’s likely a language that hasn’t been spoken inside your home for quite some time… whether that’s five years, 10 years, or 15 years.

Everything I teach is language-based and language-driven. And learning a new language takes practice.

In Part 1, I talked about pain and resentment becoming the cork in the bottle.

So what happens when you try to pull that cork out?

Think of an infant trying to pull a cork from a bottle. They’re not going to do a very good job.  They don’t have the grip strength yet.

Their muscles haven’t developed.

But an adult can pop the cork out.

It’s the same with the language we’re using.

If your spouse hasn’t heard you ask how you can make them feel chosen in a decade, they may not know what to do with the question.

They may ignore you.

They may laugh at you.

They may fight you.

And all of that will test one thing: Your perseverance.

It will test your belief in yourself, in them, and in your marriage. And it will test your courage.

Do you try this new way of speaking to your spouse, fail to receive the reaction you wanted, and then stop trying?

Because I think that’s what 90% of people do.

They try once. Their spouse looks confused, rejects them, or fails to offer the response they imagined.

And they decide:

“This doesn’t work.”

But you cannot run at the first sign of friction or resistance.

When that woman told me she felt completely discouraged, her husband’s response didn’t necessarily prove that he didn’t care.

It may have revealed how much pain and resentment he was carrying.

The more emphatically your partner pushes back, the harder they may be fighting to hold on to their version of the relationship.

They may be carrying so much pain, anger, resentment, and frustration that showing any sign of openness (any chink in the armour) feels threatening.

Opening themselves to you again means sticking their neck out again.

So they fight back. They hold on to the belief: “You are the source of my pain.”

Their view of the relationship has become saturated with pain. In their mind, all that pain exists because of you.

That doesn’t mean every part of their story is accurate.

When it comes to your partner’s pain, you may be handed all of it… including pain you didn’t cause.

Sometimes you’re even paying the fine for crimes other people committed.

Your spouse may need to hold on to the belief that you are the problem because it protects the way they currently understand their life:

“All the pain in this relationship is here because of you.”

And from inside that worldview, they may be unable to go first.

At least for now.

 


You Can Make the Vow. They May Not Be Ready.

In Part 1, I introduced two vows:

“I will hold your emotional well-being ahead of my own.”

And:

“I will show up better today than I did yesterday.”

You may be ready to make those vows.

Your spouse may not be… not yet.

Whether it’s the fear that admitting fault makes you a bad person or the belief that your spouse needs to change first, pain makes self-reflection difficult.

Both partners can use pain to hold onto the belief that they’re the one who is right. That’s why so many people refuse to go first.

And when they finally try but don’t get the reaction they wanted, they think:

“This won’t work.”

Or:

“This isn’t going anywhere.”

I cannot tell you this strongly enough:

You can’t tuck your tail between your legs and run in the opposite direction simply because you didn’t receive the response you wanted.

You have to be persistent.

I’m not telling you to pursue someone forever while they mistreat you.

I can’t tell you how long you should try. That’s a personal question only you can answer.

But I can tell you that one awkward response to a language your spouse hasn’t heard in years is not enough evidence to declare the relationship beyond repair.

You need to try again.

You need to try differently.

And you need to learn how to recognize movement when it happens.

 


Become an Expert at Reading the Room

This is probably one of my superpowers: I’ve become an expert at reading the room.

And you need to become one, too.

Imagine the trench warfare of World War I. If you gain one foot of territory, you dive into that trench, fortify it, defend it, and refuse to give it back.

You gained valuable ground.

Repair can work the same way. If you notice your spouse softening — even slightly — pay attention. If you see movement in them, memorize it.

Become an expert at reading the room and evaluating your progress along the path toward a better relationship.

Your job is to recognize and store your successes.

I call it timestamping.

When you do something that works, timestamp it in your mind:

“Okay, that’s what I want to replicate. That’s what I want to do again.”

Maybe your spouse didn’t answer your question, but they stayed at the table five minutes longer than they normally would. Timestamp it.

Maybe they rolled their eyes but later came back and sat beside you. Timestamp it.

Maybe they said, “I don’t know,” but then kissed you three times. Timestamp it.

Don’t dismiss any amount of small movement because it wasn’t the complete repair you wanted. That one foot of ground matters.

Timestamping it in your mind is how you cement progress.

People are more likely to show up better when they feel better about who they are. They become more willing to sweep their own side of the street.

Do you think it was an accident that I asked you to tell your spouse you choose them?

I wanted you to send them a positive message about who they are.

At first, they may not believe you. That’s what the woman at the beginning of this manifesto experienced.

Your message may have to pierce years of armor. But eventually, they may begin believing you.

And when they begin believing you, they may start looking at you differently.

They may begin trusting you again. They may see hope returning to the relationship.

That’s what we want: Forward progress.

You don’t need to memorize every sentence or find the perfect script.

What comes out of your mouth mid-argument or over morning coffee at 9:00 a.m. doesn’t need to be written by ChatGPT.

Read the room.

Timestamp what worked.

Do more of it.

Then find a way to do it even better.

 


Curiosity Is How We Cherish

Part 1 was about choosing your partner.

This Part 2 is about cherishing them.

And if you remember only one idea from this part of the manifesto, remember this:

Curiosity is one of the clearest ways to cherish your spouse.

Relationships don’t only fall apart because people stop loving each other. They fall apart because they stop being curious about one another.

A lack of curiosity is often one of the first signs that something is going wrong. When couples find themselves in a difficult place, they begin pulling away.

The questions disappear:

“How was your day?”

“How are you doing?”

“What are you up to?”

You stop asking because you think you already know the answers. Or you stop caring about the answers because pain has convinced you that nothing good is left to discover.

But curiosity communicates something powerful:

“Your inner world still matters to me.”

It tells your spouse:

“I don’t only want to manage your behavior. I want to know you.”

So I want you to read the room again:

How curious are you about your spouse?

And how curious are they about you?

 


Ask Better Questions

Curiosity doesn’t require perfect language. It requires questions that invite your spouse to tell you more about their world.

You could ask:

“What would have been helpful for me to ask you about?”

Or:

“How can I make you feel cherished tonight?”

The questions aren’t the point.

The message underneath them is:

“Your inner world matters to me.”

And:

“I still want to know you.”

You can also pair those questions with identity-level messages that show you notice and honor who your spouse is:

“I admire your loyalty.”

“I trust your heart.”

“I love how your mind works.”

“You’re steady.”

“I like who you are.”

“Your sense of humor is amazing.”

This is the gold. You aren’t only rewarding behavior. You’re reminding your spouse that pain hasn’t erased every good thing you see in them.

 


Your Challenge Before Part 3

During the next 24 hours, I want you to do two things.

First, ask your spouse one question that demonstrates genuine curiosity.

If you aren’t sure what to ask, begin here:

“What’s one thing you wish I were more curious about?”

Then listen.

Don’t defend yourself.

Don’t explain why you haven’t asked before.

Don’t turn their answer into another argument.

Listen for the thing that matters to them.

Second, send them one honest identity-level message. Name one thing you still like, admire, respect, or value about who they are.

And if they don’t respond the way you hoped, don’t immediately decide that your effort failed.

Read the room.

Look for the smallest sign of movement.

Timestamp it.

Then ask yourself:

“How can I do more of what worked?”

Remember the woman at the beginning of this manifesto. She reached for her husband and received a blank stare. Maybe you’ll receive the same thing.

But a blank stare isn’t always the end of the conversation.

Sometimes it’s the first response of someone who hasn’t felt safe enough to hope in a very long time.

You’re speaking a new language.

Give both of you time to learn it.

 

In solutions and strength,

aka “Mr Chosen & Cherished”

This is why your spouse isn’t changing… It’s not the request… it’s the delivery.

You can’t complain your way into a better marriage.
It’s time we come to terms with our penchant for complaining.
All of us – you, me, Meredith, your spouse – know a thing or two about complaining.
In fact, we’re so good at it that it’s deluded us into thinking that complaining is a good strategy for getting our spouse to change how they show up in our relationship.

So what is complaining?

Complaining looks like this:

“I don’t want you to __x__.”
“Why can’t you ever…?”
“I need you to…”

Complaining also looks like:
“My love language is X, and you don’t speak it!”
“You’re dismissive and avoidant.”
“I can’t accept that… you’re not respecting my ‘boundaries.”Complaining is basically any language you use to prove a point, point out your partner’s flaws or mistakes, or win an argument.
The problem with complaining is that it NEVER works.
It can’t work.

And why is that?

Because the very act of complaining stirs up negative sentiment. And that fills your conversation with negative energy.

No one moves, changes, improves, or self-reflects in a state of negativity.

It’s impossible.

It also violates the fundamental human desire to ask for and receive what you want.

You see, your complaining – for better or worse – isn’t coming from a bad place.
You want things. And you deserve things. But you’re frustrated you’re not getting them.
And I get that. Your partner likely gets it.
The issue isn’t with the request itself.
The problem is with the delivery. The reality is that there is no frictionless way of expressing frustration that isn’t going to be received negatively by your partner.
Again, I’m not telling this to say that your requests, wants, and desires aren’t valid.
What I want to do is give you the communication skills that transcend friction. Scarcity. And lack.
Complaints are almost always rooted in something deeper than that which you are complaining about.
Here’s my personal example:
I don’t want Meredith talking to another man in a way in which he thinks she could be interested in him. I don’t want another man to think he can laugh at me. I don’t want to be humiliated.

All of that is understandable. All of that is my ‘complaining’.

But it’s not sharing with her what’s really going on for me.

The thing under the thing is my deep-rooted belief that I’m leavable.
So what I want her to do, and how I want her to act out in the wild, is to remind me that I’m stayable.

I need to trade the complaining for the sharing of my identity-level wound.

Trade: Don’t let other men hit on you.

For: Remind me that I’m stayable.
Let me ask you:
What will she respond to better?

The complaining I do about some imaginary fear I viscerally experience every time she has an interaction with the other gender?

Or me saying, “I trust you and part of that means that I want to know you’re never going to leave me. Can you tell me that you’re staying – forever?”

It takes a lot of courage to lead with your fear. To share the thing under the thing.

It takes so much courage that we’ll bury it under our complaining and negativity.
Do yourself and your relationship a favor and write down – today – what your biggest fear is.
  • Does your partner sharing the load at home make you feel thought of?
  • When they’re intimate with you, do you feel desirable?
  • Is their attention directed only at you because no other woman could occupy real estate in their mind?
  • When they say they’re proud of you, do you know that you’re a successful and good man?
If you want to hear those messages about yourself, then you’ve made the most important first step: you’ve come to understand what your identity-level wound is and figured out what the opposite message you crave to hear is.
Remember, when you trade complaining for courage, you will discover that conversations about not getting what you want in your relationship become easier. 
And that’s because vulnerability is soft.
And if your spouse actually is in your marriage operating from genuine authenticity, they won’t look at their partner who’s wounded and choose to inflict more pain.
That would mean that they are a bad actor.
Or wounded themselves. And if that’s the case, then when they find the courage to be vulnerable and ask for what they want, well then you have two people daring to be vulnerable.
Two people who are softening.
Two people who have decided to let their guard down and open themselves up to feeling…
Chosen and cherished again. Perhaps even for the first time in their lives.
In solutions and strength,
Image item
aka “Mr. Chosen & Cherished”

P.S. If this feels hard for you, or you don’t know how to have this conversation with your spouse, let’s talk. Book a call with me and we can discuss how I can help:

Book Your Call Here

Marriage isn’t about getting your needs met… Here’s the better way to do it.

Happy Monday, everyone.

In today’s Chosen & Cherished Letter, I’m going to do my best to convince you to speak like a child again.

Because as adults, we’ve lost the innocence of asking for our deepest desires in the healthiest way I know.

Over the years, I’ve become convinced that one of the biggest mistakes couples make is turning their wants into needs.

And yet, if I’m honest, some of the deepest desires we carry sound like this:

“I want to be held.”
“I want to be your number one.”
“I want to be top of your mind.”
“I want that kiss in the morning.”
“I want to be hugged when I’m feeling down.”

These are all wants.

They aren’t needs. I know a lot of people disagree with me on that. But I think the distinction matters.

Because the word need creates pressure. And relationships don’t need more pressure.

On the other hand, the word want creates connection.

A Need says, “You owe me.” It comes across as a demand – whether it is or not.

Whereas a Want says, “I choose you.” It feels like an invitation instead.

That’s why I’ve come to believe that wants are pure.

In fact, I believe the covenant of marriage is this:

I want to wake up every single day helping you get more of what you want.

Not because you demanded it.

Not because you needed it.

But because I married you.

Because I chose you.

So here’s a question to sit with this week:

What if marriage wasn’t about getting your needs met?

What if marriage was about waking up every morning and asking:

“How can I help the person I love get more of what they want today?”

I have a feeling that question alone could change a marriage.

In strength and solutions,

Jonathan

What if your marriage could feel different by Friday? … Most couples are working on the wrong problem.

If you’ve never heard me say this before, let me tell you that I, personally, struggle with anger. Always have. Ever since I was a teenager.

Why’s that important?

Because my entire marriage, I used anger to cover up a wound that carried into adulthood.

A wound that my wife would trigger.

And a wound that I unfairly blamed her for.

That wound was that I was leavable.

Only, she didn’t cause the wound, yet she found herself paying the fine for a crime she didn’t commit.

A lot of good men secretly feel leavable.

A lot of women, too.

Somewhere deep down, a lot of people carry a fear they rarely talk about:

“What if I’m not enough?”

“I’m not successful.”

“I’m not loveable.”

And so on.

The problem with our wounds that we all walk around with is that they rarely show up as vulnerability.

More often than not they show up as defensiveness.
Anger.
Withdrawal.
Control.
Shutting down.

The behavior most people show their spouse isn’t the wound.

My anger wasn’t my wound. My fear of abandonment was.

The wound is always the message underneath the behavior.

And that’s what most couples miss.

When I sit with couples in session, I’m far less interested in what they’re fighting about than the identity-level wound hiding underneath the fight.

Because your deepest wound shapes your loudest behavior.

The husband who gets defensive likely feels inadequate. And likely secretly to boot.

The wife who overthinks everything often feels unchosen.

I want you to lean into your wound. Learn to understand it.

Shine a light on it.

Stop hiding from it.

When you do that, you stop fighting each other…

Because you can start healing each other.

In strength and solutions,
Image item
aka “Mr. Chosen & Cherished”

 

The reason we haven’t been angry in 7 years

A follower commented on one of my posts last week:

“I find it hard to believe you’re never angry or sad with your wife.”

My reply: “Believe me or not, but like I said, never.”

She pushed back. “I still find it hard to believe.”

I get it. It’s hard to know what a marriage looks like from the outside. Harder still when you don’t know me personally.

But if you’re reading this newsletter, you’re about to find out exactly why Meredith and I haven’t experienced anger or sadness with each other in over 7 years.

It comes down to those two words: anger and sadness.

We don’t allow those words to be used in reference to one another.

Only in reference to what either of us has done.

I can hear you already — “But you just said you never get angry or sad!”

That’s correct. We don’t. Not with each other.

Only with the behavior. Never with the person.

There’s a difference. And it’s everything.

I’ve never said Meredith can’t upset me. Or that I can’t upset her. We’re married. We disappoint each other all the time. But we do one thing better than most couples I’ve worked with in 17 years of practice:

We separate the person from the problem.

Why does that matter?

Because when you have something to blame — and that something is a behavior, not a human being — you create an off-ramp for the pain.

You still get to feel hurt. They still get to feel like a good person. And somehow, miraculously, they find the confidence to actually own their mistake.

Blame the person and they defend themselves. Blame the behavior and they apologize for it.

That’s not therapy language. That’s just how humans work.

What keeps couples emotionally connected isn’t the absence of disappointment. It’s never allowing disappointment to become evidence of who the other person is.

When you get that right, apologies come faster. Forgiveness comes easier. And anger and sadness stop having anywhere to live.

I call it the A.I.R. approach to disappointment:

A — Acknowledge the behavior. Not the person.

I — Identify the impact it had on you. Without blame.

R — Repair together. From a place of safety, not shame.

It’s the exact framework Meredith and I use that’s kept anger and sadness out of our marriage for over 7 years.

In solutions and strength,

The apology that was slowly ruining my marriage.

I used to be the king of “I’m sorry that I…”

For years, I was constantly having to apologize for not showing up in Meredith’s life the way I should have.

Instead of the grounded, mature masculine, she got the reactive, tyrant man-child she didn’t deserve.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been slammed at work.”

“I’m sorry I snapped. You caught me at a bad time.”

“I’m sorry I got mad at the kids over nothing.”

Sure, it was great that I repaired in real time.

But what I should have been doing was regulating my reactions to the irritations in life that made me show up like — for lack of a better word — an asshole.

It took me way too long to learn this:

How you show up when your partner upsets you is more important than how you repair.

I changed that. In seven words:

“She doesn’t deserve this version of me.”

That’s it.

No more reactivity. No more anger. No more improvising like an actor in a movie I didn’t write.

Instead, I became the director.

With calm responsiveness and a genuine desire to be a better husband.

When Meredith sees that from me now, I watch her whole body relax.

She feels chosen instead of dismissed.

And here’s the thing most couples miss:

The goal isn’t perfection. It’s progress.

The husbands who make their wives feel safe aren’t the ones who never screw up.

They’re the ones who screw up less and less.

Till one day they wake up and see the fruits of their efforts returned tenfold… from a wife who has nothing to be afraid of.

She no longer fears when you’re triggered, wounded, or stuck in the same old patterns.

That heightened nervous system response she encoded into her body? It disappears.

Because you have a method.

A method for regulating your own nervous system so you can show up in her life (and your children’s) in a way that says:

You’re safe with me. Forever.

Why conflict makes smart people stupid. Your brain wasn’t built for fights.

There’s a quote often attributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald that I love:

“The sign of a highly intelligent person is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still function.”

That line applies perfectly to marriage.

Because marriage asks you to do two things at once… especially when you’re hurt or disconnected… things that go directly against your instincts BTW.

The first is open-mindedness.

The second is curiosity.

And when you’re in emotional pain, those are the first two things to disappear.

When you’re hurt, your nervous system floods your body with stress hormones. That shuts down your higher faculties like creativity, imagination, perspective. You basically stop seeing clearly.

So instead of approaching conversations like they’re happening for the first time, pain convinces you that you already know where this is going.

You assume.
You judge.
You stop listening.

And the moment that happens, connection collapses.

In conflict, the goal isn’t to be right.
 It’s to stay open.

Open enough to create a space where both of you can be vulnerable… because that’s the only place intimacy actually lives.

If you can make it your mission to discover something new about your spouse (even in the middle of an argument) you keep access to the problem-solving part of your brain.

That’s how fights end.

So how do you do that?

  • You ask better questions.
  • You dig deeper instead of defending.
  • You show real interest in how your partner experiences the world, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Curiosity is not easy.

But with discipline, it’ll build you emotional strength.

Stay curious about the person you love.

Commit to these two simple shifts… open-mindedness and curiosity… and you will change the course of your conflict.

I see it every day.

In solutions and strength,

Why defensiveness isn’t the real problem.

A follower reached out to me yesterday and asked a question I hear all the time:

“How do I deal with a partner who gets defensive and can’t self-reflect?”

Let me start with this.

Most defensive people aren’t unwilling to engage in hard conversations.

They’re overwhelmed by what the conversation feels like it says about who they are.

When defensiveness shows up, it’s easy to tell ourselves a story about the other person.

That they’re immature.

That they’re selfish.

That they refuse to take responsibility.

But after a decade of working with couples, I’ve learned something far more useful:

Defensiveness usually has very little to do with the behavior you’re trying to talk about.

And it has everything to do with identity.

When you bring something painful to your partner (something they said or did) many people don’t hear feedback. They hear an attack on themselves.

“You’re wrong.”
“You’re not good enough.”
“You’re a bad person.”

And people will defend their identity aggressively, because they feel under attack.

That’s when conversations derail. Not because the issue is too big, but because the nervous system has taken over.

Here’s the shift that changes everything.

Every hard conversation has two layers.

One is about behavior (what happened). The other is about identity (who someone is). Defensive partners collapse those two layers into one.

So when you try to talk about behavior, they experience it as a threat to their identity. And once that happens, curiosity disappears. Self-reflection shuts down. The conversation goes sideways.

Lowering defensiveness isn’t about finding the perfect words.

It’s about restoring this separation.

You do that by making it explicit that you’re not questioning who they are, you’re addressing something that happened.

Sometimes that sounds as simple as saying, “I love who you are. I’m upset about something that happened.”

That clarification matters more than people realize. Because now your partner doesn’t have to defend their worth. They can stay present with the moment.

A lot of couples think their problem is communication.

It’s not.

The real issue is that they don’t share a framework for handling feedback inside the relationship. Without that framework, every hard conversation feels like an attack instead of an invitation. A threat instead of an opportunity to reconnect.

And that’s where defensiveness comes from.

What I do with couples is help them build that framework before things go sideways. We separate behavior from identity. We create shared language that keeps both people out of fight-or-flight. And we practice real-time repair so resentment doesn’t quietly pile up and harden over time.

This isn’t about digging endlessly into the past or analyzing childhood wounds. It’s about having the right distinctions and the right language so your relationship can breathe again.

In solutions and strength,