Could couples counseling help when we barely talk to each other anymore?
You eat dinner scrolling TikTok to avoid eye contact. You debate the thermostat instead of your despair. At least that’s something to talk about.
Your texts read like corporate memos: “Trash taken out.” “Kids picked up.” “Goodnight.” This isn’t a marriage—it’s a joint custody agreement for shared chores.
Let’s see if we can fix it.
The Anatomy of the Mute Button
- Stage 1: Unanswered “How was your day?” → Resentment → “Why bother?”
- Stage 2: Silence as weapon. Silence as shield. Silence as habit.
- Stage 3: Two strangers sharing a Netflix password. Mortal kombat of politeness.
What Counseling Can’t Do
(Spoiler: It’s not a translator for your silence.)
- Resurrect dead love.
- Force vulnerability from clenched jaws.
- Make you want to hear their childhood trauma again.
What Counseling Can Do
- Unearth the Landmines: That “harmless” joke from 2017? It’s still ticking.
- Teach You to Fight Dirty… Cleanly: “When you ______, I feel ______” beats “You always ______!”
- Introduce You to the Stranger You Married: Spoiler: They’re terrified too.
The Stoic Pre-Game: Try This Before Booking
- Experiment 1: Sit back-to-back. Speak truths the floor can’t hear. “I miss us.” “I’m scared.”
- Experiment 2: Swap phones for a day. Text each other’s moms. Forced empathy is still empathy.
- Experiment 3: Scream into pillows. Then laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Crack the ice.
Brutal Truth
You think silence is safer. Truth: It’s slow suffocation—and you’re both holding the pillow.
Stoic Questions to Gauge Readiness
- Are you willing to be wrong? (Not “admit”—be.)
- Can you handle hearing “I stayed because I’m scared to leave”?
- Will you show up if they ugly-cry? (Snot included.)
How to Start the Convo (Without Setting the House on Fire)
Stoic Scripts to Break the Silence
Words feel like grenades? No worries. Just pull the pin strategically.
- The Bridge Builder:
“I don’t want to fix us right now. I just want to see us. Can we try?” - The Time Traveler:
“Remember when we laughed so hard we cried? I miss that version of us. Can we…?” (Trail off. Let silence work for you.) - The Bare-Knuckle Truth:
“I’m scared to say this, but I’d regret it more if I didn’t: I don’t want to be roommates anymore.”
Stoic Rules for the Talk
- Set the Stage: No phones. No kids. No alcohol. Just a kitchen table and two chairs facing each other—not the TV.
- Wear Your Fear: Start with: “This feels terrifying. But you’re worth the risk.”
- Speak in Sand, Not Stone: Use “I’m feeling…” not “You always…”
If They Shut Down
Breathe. Then drop this nuke:
“If we don’t talk now, we’ll talk later through lawyers. Your choice.”
Final Verdict
Counseling works if you want a bridge—not a time machine. The first step isn’t talking. It’s deciding the silence hurts more than the truth might.
Two gardens left untended—
Weeds don’t argue, they conquer.
Bring your shovels.
Or bring farewell.