Maura was devastated when she
and her boyfriend, Armando, arrived for their first couple therapy
session. After a relationship of 5
years, he had acknowledged being unfaithful to her, while still insisting that
he still loved her. There
was palpable tension in the air as they came into my office, then sat down--as
far apart from one another as the couch would allow.
Armando, a handsome man with
deep-set eyes in his mid-thirties, faced slightly away from Maura. He looking somewhat sullen, angry, and
intransigent, like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world at that
moment. Maura, a heavy-set woman
of the same age, had tears in her eyes, and a look of pleading and desperation
on her face: “I don’t
understand! I’ve done nothing but
love you! And always, always
supported you! How could you? How could you do this to me? Armando’s lips tightened, as though
blocking words that might want to come out.
After several minutes of
silence, I softly inquired: “Armando, is there anything you want to share with
Maura about what was going on for you at that time—what motivated your decision
to be unfaithful to her?”
He finally replied, still
avoiding eye contact with Maura:
“I don’t really know. I
just know I was fed up with her trying to control me—telling me how to be. I’ve had enough of that! She’s got to stop!”
Maura leaped to her own
defense: “If you’d do what you’re
supposed to do, when you say you’re going to do it, then I wouldn’t have to
tell you what to do!” Then,
looking at me: “He embarrasses me
all the time. When I have friends
over for a dinner party, he sometimes doesn’t say a word! Or he sits at his computer, instead of
entertaining the company. It’s
just rude! And then I feel so
desperate—to keep the company happy, to keep Armando happy—it’s just awful!”
Armando appeared to be
quietly seething: “Maybe I don’t
want to talk to your friends after you’ve told them what a terrible man I
am—that I cheated on you—that you can’t trust me. How am I supposed to want to hang out with them, when I know
they’re judging me all the time?”
You disrespect me all the time—in front of your friends, and in front of
your family, too!”
This brief confrontation
revealed a lot about the dynamic in Maura and Armando’s relationship. Maura would become frustrated with
something Armando had done and would yell at him about it. The louder she yelled, the more he
would grow silent, ignore her, and refuse to do whatever it was that she wanted
him to do—which would lead to even louder yelling on her part and more
stonewalling on his.
In our exploration of this
dynamic, it became clear to both Maura and Armando that this was a no-win game
for both; that each was contributing to the problematic pattern described
above—her yelling elicited his stonewalling, and his stonewalling elicited her
yelling. In other words, each was bringing out of
the other the very behavior that he/she hated the most. They were co-creating a pattern that
led to each feeling frustrated, misunderstood and lonely—the very feelings that
ultimately led to Armando’s infidelity.
This acknowledgment of mutual
responsibility for their problems is generally the beginning of finding
workable solutions for a couple, and this was certainly true for Maura and
Armando. Once Maura was able to
acknowledge that her “losing it” with Armando was counterproductive, she worked
in session to take three breaths before she spoke, modulate her tone, and make
requests, rather than demands.
Armando also struggled
valiantly in sessions to stay present, despite his strong impulse to clam up
and punish Maura for her “disrespect.”
When I gently pointed out how his body was turning away and his eyes
were avoiding contact with her, as they were discussing this charged issue, he
had the courage to turn back around, face her and re-connect.
At the moment that he turned
toward her, Maura’s face softened, and she said, almost in a whisper, “I’m
sorry for the times it has seemed like I’m disrespecting you. I don’t mean to do that. I never mean to do that. I just get so scared when you
disappear—so scared that you’re going to abandon me. And I love you so much—so much! And I get afraid that you’ll hurt me again—that you’ll
cheat, again.”
Armando stayed present this
time, able to tolerate the intensity of Maura’s feelings without withdrawing,
but took a long time to speak. “I
felt like a kid who could never get it right for you—like you criticized me all
the time. So I guess I got sick of
that—and when I was in Atlanta and that woman hit on me—I felt like, ‘Why
not? For once I’ll feel like a
man—appreciated as a man, not criticized.
I guess that was why-- (he looked down, his face showing sadness and
regret) why I did it.”
After a respectful silence, I
interjected “You’ve both shown a lot of courage today—the courage to acknowledge
your respective contributions to the difficulties you’ve been experiencing as a
couple and also to express the vulnerable feelings that are so often hidden
under your anger.”
Then, sensing that Armando
might be willing to express more, I suggested: “You’ve both come here with the goal of bringing trust back
into the relationship. Is there
anything that either of you might like to say to the other that might be a step
in that direction?”
After a moment, Armando
volunteered, “I do love you, Maura—I do.
But it’s been really hard. It’s not that I want to be with anybody else—but that I
want us to be different.” They
left the session on that positive note for the first time in many weeks.
Of course, trust is not
rebuilt in one hour, but in the session above they took a giant step toward
being able to communicate in a way that would help them be less reactive and
more responsive to one another, less defensive and more empathic.
In future sessions they would
have to explore how their respective histories contributed to the unhealthy
dynamic they had developed.
Armando grew up in Columbia
with highly critical, demanding parents, who often shamed him when his
performance wasn’t what they hoped for. They completely disregarded his interests in life—to
study journalism and become a sports reporter—and “forced” him to get a
business degree. Whenever Maura
was dissatisfied and critical of him, she evoked all of the feelings of his
miserable childhood—18 years of pent-up anger—as well as all of the defenses he
used to emotionally survive those years—generally some form of rebellious
silence. He had to work hard to
identify these feelings as historical and not take them out on Maura.
Maura grew up in a
dysfunctional family with an alcoholic father who cheated on her mother, a
depressed woman who was financially dependent on her husband—and therefore at
his mercy. There were also three younger siblings who were often in Maura’s
care. She remembers often feeling
absolutely desperate as a child—trying to keep her father happy, so he wouldn’t
be abusive with her mother; trying to make her mother happy so she wouldn’t be
depressed; trying to take care of her brothers and sisters when she was still a
little girl, herself. Absolutely
no one was responsive to her needs.
Maura had to learn that the
feelings of desperation that emerge when she fears that Armando will abandon
her go back to that early time of life—that they belong to the child who was terrified
that her father would leave, and that the family wouldn’t survive. Her challenge is to learn to handle
these historical feelings of desperation and anger from back then, without
taking them out on her partner now.
For any couple struggling to
rebuild trust after a partner has been unfaithful it’s important to recognize
that infidelity is often an indirect way of communicating that something isn’t
working in the relationship. If
you and your partner are struggling in the aftermath of such an episode, it
will be important to explore what was going on before the infidelity
occurred. Was there a habit of
talking past each other, or “talking to win,” rather than talking to really
understand one another? If that is
the case, the first step will be to learn to listen—really listen—to one
another, as well as to respond in an empathic, rather than a reactive way.
It will also be important to
explore your respective family backgrounds to get a sense of how the two of you
may be unconsciously playing out negative patterns from history. It isn’t easy to recognize how much we
repeat the ways of relating that we experienced in childhood. But once we see it, we can change it.
The process of rebuilding
trust after infidelity is not easy but, in my experience, when both members of
the couple are committed to that goal, it is certainly possible. Each of you can learn to communicate
more authentically, to listen more empathically, to become more curious and
less critical, more responsive and less reactive.
You can find the courage to
look at what your contributions to the problems of the relationship might
be--to own these and forgive yourself for all of them. Then, from this openhearted,
self-loving place, you might just be able to take a step toward the forgiveness
of your partner. Not to deny or
condone what happened, but to understand what happened and be willing to make
the leap of faith toward beginning to trust again.
Portia
Franklin, LCSW, is a New York City based psychotherapist who has helped couples
improve communication and rebuild intimacy for more than 20 years. She also works with individuals who are
seeking greater fulfillment in life, both personally and professionally. Check out her web site: www.integrativepsychotherapy-nyc.com and her blog: www.healingpsychotherapynyc@blogspot.com.
