“I am so angry,” an older woman reeled at her husband. Coming to a Marriage Intensive as a last-ditch effort to save their marriage, Lana’s words burned into her husband, Jake. He felt her venom from ten feet away where he looked blankly back at her.
“I’m not even sure I want to save this marriage,” she continued. “After everything you’ve done to me, I don’t know why I should try to save it.”
"Lana," I broke in, “Why have you come all the way to Washington to work on your marriage? Coming here was a big step. Agreeing to participate in this depth work took a lot of courage. Why did you do it?”
“That’s a great question,” she answered.
“I thought we were here to work on our marriage,” Jake said firmly, his voice harsh with anger as well. “But, that’s obviously not the case.”
Both glared at each other, as if waiting for the other to make a move. Both were hiding behind a wall of anger—a wall that also kept them from offering each other the thing they both desperately needed—love.
“How long have you two been this angry with each other?” I asked.
“When haven’t we been this angry?” Lana blurted out. “If your spouse cheated on you, you’d be angry too.”
“Are you going to tell him what our marriage was like before the affair?” Jake said defensively. “I cheated on you, and take full responsibility. But, you withdrew your affection from me years ago.”
“Folks,” I said softly. “I get the feeling you’ve had a courtroom-like relationship for a long time. But, that’s not really what you want to do here, is it? Isn’t there a soft, vulnerable part of you that desperately wants to be loved?”
Lana turned away, her eyes moistening with pain. Jake looked down, afraid to look into the eyes of his wounded wife.
I watched as each avoided the other’s pain, similar to hundreds of other couples I’ve worked with over the years.
Like the majority of couples, Jake and Lana felt strangely comfortable in their anger, and awkwardly uncomfortable in their vulnerability. To step quietly into their sadness and vulnerability would be difficult, but necessary for healing. I shared with them to course of action needed for healing.
“Folks,” I began. “You need each other. No one can heal your mate the way you can heal your mate. But, it will take speaking from your most vulnerable self. Talking from your anger is easy. Powerful. Controlling. Speaking from your pain, your wounds, your fragility, will take real courage. Can you see what I mean?”
Both nodded.
“But me talking about this won’t get us where we need to go. You need to practice it.”
Jake stiffened while Lana looked more intently at me.
“What do you mean?” Lana said.
“I’m going to have you practice speaking to each other from your most vulnerable self. Here’s what I want you to do: I want you each to take a turn at sharing your pain with the other. I want you to use ‘I’ language, followed by a feeling. No judgments or pointing fingers. Just sharing how you’ve been wounded.”
Over the next hour I watched something miraculous, something that I’ve been honored to witness time and again. I watched defenses fall, pretenses disappear, and honest vulnerability come to the fore. As each became vulnerable, their mate became more caring and compassionate. As each shared their need for acceptance and respect, the other responded to the vulnerable presence of the other. Amidst tears and grief, each mate offered healing embraces. Anger gave way to sadness, offering space for acceptance and compassion.
I prayed silently as I witnessed the miracle of healing.
Please let us know how these ideas help you, or other ideas you’ve tried that have had a positive impact. Share your opinion or send a confidential note to me at TheRelationshipDoctor@Gmail.com and read more about The Marriage Recovery Center on my website YourRelationshipDoctor.com. You’ll find videos and podcasts on saving a troubled marriage, codependency, rejection by your mate and affair-proofing your marriage.