A Reflection on Couples Therapy - The Dance

It started when I was an intern out of grad school shadowing a couple’s therapy session. The work of having a couple sit across from you and orchestrating a dance on a very intricate stage for two is daunting but somehow very fascinating. The dance, of course, is metaphorical; couples express their movement with words, and some words are very flashy with zesty passion. Some words are hurtful and filled with rage. Underneath all the drama was a yearning and longing for love, care and attention. The energy that once was passion, fun, caring and explicit declarations of love became wrathful destruction using criticism and contempt. As a therapist, you really get to explore the duality of pleasure and pain. There’s just something when two people feel hurt by each other that goes beyond assessments, words on a page, or any theory that could explain what’s happening underneath it all. For some, to lay bare all the raw feelings, raw material, is incredibly vulnerable. It is vulnerable because these same materials that could be used to build something constructive, in the wrong hands, are destructive to relationships. To use an analogy, I like to think that radioactive materials can be used to benefit humankind by creating cleaner energy, like at a nuclear power plant, or the same material can be used to create the atomic bomb.
What’s fascinating about this dance is that the same two people who spent a good part of their lives building something have the capacity to destroy what they built. Whether or not it is intentional or unintentional, it really does speak to the duality of pleasure and pain.
The most intriguing part of this metaphorical dance floor is setting the stage by having the couple turn towards each other while you facilitate the dance one step at a time. The therapist can choreograph the moves and the speed and help the couple to follow the movements in their own time. Through this practice, it becomes easier to be more vulnerable and comfortable, conditions that help us to feel safe enough to be seen, heard and understood. When the flow or rhythm of the dance is off, the choreographer will stop the dance partners, slow it down, and when they’re ready, have them try the moves again. This was an essential learning I had to experience for myself when I became a couples’ therapist – to this day, couples therapy can be at some points very directive if need be – this is necessary because if we are going to have you perform across many different stages in your lifetime, we want you to have the confidence that you can do it on your own. To translate, couples will always encounter problems, we want to help you by letting you experience how to move through them together so issues that arise in the future can be handled confidently.
I am reminded that every couple has unique strengths and weaknesses and that every couple has their own pace. In the context of therapy, it’s tempting to think that to “win” at therapy means that the couple that “dances” the fastest or in the prettiest way “wins”, but this may not always be the case. Memorizing dance moves is one thing, but to commit to long-lasting changes requires a type of passion and understanding that is deep-rooted. To have the couple feel and connect, along with having that willingness to be seen, heard and loved again, is a choice they make every day. A metaphorical couple who sits across from me reminds me that they make the choice every day, but it doesn’t mean that they are free of struggles. Struggles that make it difficult to find the right moves to connect. Many have fears that they will never be able to find the same moves as before, that all the moves are stale and boring, like someone telling the same joke you already know the punchline to. Yet, I’m reminded repeatedly of an old saying: “When there’s a will, there’s a way.” It starts with giving yourself a chance, keeping an open mind, and being willing to seek change.




Comments