A professor recently came to me for help with what he called an “issue of thinking.” 

Part of it was procrastination, which many people are wrestling with. I suggested framing the habit as an expression of inner conflict. If there is something you really want to do, but you’re not doing it, there is probably another part of you that’s resisting. So it’s a negotiation between two parties, except that they are both you.

They’re different parts of self, with needs that don’t seem to fit together—or not at the very same instant. The part that wants instant gratification, now and forever, is probably a lot younger than the part that’s more interested in getting valuable things done (like pursuing justice, or doing the laundry,), even if that means having to wait awhile for some of the other kinds of value (like ice cream, or a movie).

Like ordinary negotiations, these are best pursued with gentle firmness, a vigilant yet easygoing grace that is authoritative because it takes the long view of the situation, and sets appropriate priorities. In other words, find your most adult self in there somewhere; assume it (i.e. take it on, activate it, become it); and parent the rest of you into ceding control to this most-adult part-of-self.   

Your inner child doesn’t actually want to run the show, knowing he or she lacks the skills, the knowledge, and the fortitude to run an adult life (in the world of grownups, with taxes and jobs and the occasional blizzard). But in order to stand down and let you get busy, the kid needs to feel that his or her yearnings and appetites matter; that they will not be trampled, mocked, or ignored; and that enough love is present to soothe a small person through the fear, boredom, and sheer fussiness that delayed gratification usually involves.

But the professor was working on more than procrastination. In fact, that wasn’t the main thing. 

His problem had to do with determining what to work on—which was tricky because, he said, he’s “too detail-oriented.” He had plenty of ideas, but they all pointed in different directions. It wasn’t clear which, if any, was really worth developing into a paper he would be confident he could (and should) try to publish. So he found himself floundering, despite a real wish to be productive and enjoy his work. In the classroom, he felt something similar. He wanted to let himself be the kind of beneficially weird lecturer who, as a student, he had always wanted and rarely got: the kind who’s full of quotations and colorful embellishments that link the parts of the course together, and even connect it to adjacent disciplines. But he kept fretting about whether this would be acceptable.

In an academic department, as in a marriage or a family, it’s good to have people with diverse thinking styles. But there is an art to knowing the limits of what’s unusual about the way you do things. Of course, your difference from other people’s style and methods will be partly built-in and unconscious. And yet some of it should be, or become, a free choice that you can adjust to the needs of the moment. As a teacher you can allow yourself plenty of (semi-relevant, but educational) digressions in your lectures. But when there’s an exam coming up, it’s best to curtail those a bit, the better to support your students as they try to prepare.

If you’re brimming with lore and anecdotes and allusions, and you believe they’ll enrich the course, most students will find that style at least a little bothersome—even if they can also appreciate it a little, since it’s unusual and therefore refreshing. “He goes on tangents,” they will complain, forgetting that a tangent does touch the circle at some point, and that there is more than one way to conduct a good lecture. It’s not a military campaign or a corporate boardroom. 

A small minority of students will highly prize what you’re giving them, because they can’t get it anywhere else—assuming you’re the only faculty member in your Department who teaches that way. You’re teaching whatever the actual subject is, but you’re also modeling the figure of the lifelong learner, whose love of knowledge transcends the frame of professional credentialing and credit accumulation. Be yourself up there—especially if you’re the type of teacher who strives to impart wisdom and skills, not information alone.

On the writing side, I suggest jotting down the seeds of ideas that you can water later on. You may find they’ve already begun to germinate under the surface in the meantime. Map out a few of them without committing to the immediate development of any particular one (let alone all of them at once). Then take a step back. Get a coffee. Play with the books you’ve already read as fertilizer for the process, and the ones you’ve got waiting for you. 

Now see which of those ideas you find yourself wanting to explore first. Which do you feel like discussing with a close friend? Spell out to yourself, as you would over lunch, and see where it leads. If that first idea seems too minor, well, maybe stick with it anyway. Maybe it’s a good preliminary piece of work, a warmup before you take on something more ambitious. If it doesn’t seem likely to fit into the top scholarly journal in your field, is there a second-tier journal you respect, where it might fit better?

Your minor works do not define you as a writer of minor works only.

There’s a difference between (a) living up to your own high standards as to the quality of a project—which is necessary—and (b) executing only the most serious, far-reaching, and consequential projects—which is not necessary, and may be counterproductive. As a scholar, you are not only engaged in the project at hand, whatever it turns out to be. You are also building a body of work over a lifetime career. 

It can be helpful to call to mind a figure you respect, whose best work you deeply admire, and who also wrote quite a lot. Some scholars write a small number of books, but a large number of papers across the decades. How is that achieved? By taking oneself seriously, with an encouraging version of humility. Assume your own thinking will probably bear valuable fruit, if you allow yourself to try things out and see where they lead. As they say in finger-paintiing class, “Get in there and smear.”

 The point isn’t to produce as much as possible, but to become as free to produce as you can possibly become.

If this post resonates with you, consider booking an appointment with me at 917-873-0292, or email Jamey@drjameyhecht.com. Sessions are available in-office in Park Slope, Brooklyn, and remotely in NY, NJ, TX, and CA.

Therapy is a psychological effort to heal psychological wounds. But it also includes a “coaching piece” which supports your efforts to solve objective problems in the outside world. For example, getting and keeping a good enough job, partner, or circle of friends can require plenty of collaborative work, bringing the situation into sharper focus and finding the most strategic spots where a little pressure can turn things around.

But what about those giant historical forces that contribute to depression and/or anxiety, but that can’t be addressed by personal coaching? They shouldn’t be “therapized away” either, because they’re mostly objective and external, not subjective and internal. It isn’t neurotic at all to be concerned about climate change, or the loss of the natural world, or the rapid erosion of public institutions that used to guarantee a basic standard of political stability. In fact, being concerned about these huge trends is an important part of living together in the real world, and a therapeutic culture of atomized individualism can prevent the public from getting together to improve things.

Yet this, too, is a delicate balance to be struck and maintained, because we don’t pay our therapists to sway us into their favorite world-saving projects. Politicized utopian therapy tends to help nobody at all. In it, the patient is manipulated and under-prioritized; the therapist becomes a self-important priest of virtue; and the public they pretend to rescue is never actually served in any detectable way. The proper balance, it seems to me, remains focused on the patient’s individual well-being, and includes bigger issues only insofar as the patient is already struggling with them. I don’t cause people to start worrying about global warming, but I do not flippantly suggest that patients who are losing sleep over rising sea levels should just forget about it.

I’m a member of the Climate Psychology Alliance, and I’m aware of the extremely serious state of the world’s natural systems on which our safety depends. I’ve been interviewed on Guy McPherson’s Nature Bats Last radio show several times, and the recent book I Want A Better Catastrophe by Andrew Boyd contains an interview he did with me in Los Angeles. So I get it. 

I’m a bit more hopeful about the human prospect than I was when those were recorded, some years back. But our industrial system of living arrangements hasn’t changed, and humanity still seems locked into the cornucopian dream of infinite economic growth on a finite planet. The world needs collective psychoanalysis, but there’s no way to deliver that. A decade ago, Naomi Klein wrote a book about the climate crisis, saying we had just about missed our chance to address it democratically, so that only a top-down, autocratic solution would have much chance of reversing our reckless course. Now it seems we’re getting the autocracy, but without much progress on climate change—indeed the opposite, at least for the moment. 

And yet, here and there amid the mayhem, courageous people achieve real improvements every day, with a local reforestation program here, a soil restoration project there; another solar power plant replaces another coal plant; a threatened species like the peregrine falcon is nursed back to sustainable population levels in the wild. Though Yes! Magazine ceased publication in June of this year, you can still get a regular dose of positive reporting, environmental and otherwise, at https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/.

None of this is enough, of course, and the big climate problem is a trillion tons of excess carbon already in the atmosphere. “Net zero” is politically frozen, and even if it were enacted tomorrow, it would only prevent new carbon from adding to the existing load. Yet all is not lost, and that margin of brighter possibility—however slim—means two things: 

One, we have to try. As Rabbi Tarfon says in The Ethics of the Fathers: “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it” (Pirkei Avot, 2: 16).

Two, we cannot let the giant issues of our day prevent us from fulfilling our birthright: our lifetime’s chance at the earnest effort to achieve wisdom and well-being. I use those terms instead of the Declaration’s famous “pursuit of happiness” because the latter is often too light a word, given what many of us deal with, and what we face as a society and as a species. If happiness is to be our aim, let it be a deeper version that includes the bittersweet struggle to achieve it. As I often mention, Aristotle says happiness “is not amusement; it is good activity,” and goodness often involves the sober and courageous confrontation of what’s necessary. 

All is not lost. Two organizations, and probably more, are focused on restoring the climate, not just slowing its destruction. One is www.climatefoundation.org, based on a fine book by Peter Fiekowski called Climate Restoration. The other is Project Drawdown, which includes a range of already-existing efforts to pull carbon out of the air, and into commercial products and processes that benefit the public and the natural world. These need more attention than they now receive, but that’s changing every day. 

I’m a therapist and a writer, not a climate scientist or an industrial engineer. I don’t know the future. But I am entirely convinced that your best bet, and mine, is to live lives of hope and effort, reaching for agency and awareness rather than helplessness and dissociation. When I work with patients who aren’t troubled by the giant themes of our collective historical moment, I let those sleeping dragons snore in peace. But when patients suffer from excessive preoccupation with problems of greater-than-human scale, I invite them to toggle back and forth between brave confrontation and merciful rest. If your top priority is to push back against the Big Troubles of our historical moment, remember that you can contribute a lot less when you’re exhausted and despondent than when you’re healthy and strong.

If this perspective appeals to you, consider booking an appointment with me today at 917-873-0292, or use the contact form on this website.

A couple asked me about body-image issues today. They had already communicated with each other about their preferences—which is not always a great idea. She now knows he (thinks that he) prefers a certain waist-to-hip ratio, and he knows she (thinks that she) likes it better when he’s got a bit more muscle than he seems to have these days. Saying that stuff costs more than it’s worth. Why not just assume your partner shares the same general taste as the rest of the culture around you, and live your life? If and when you’re ready to attempt the kinds of changes that suit you, give it a shot. If you have some success, and your main squeeze actually notices it, that’s great. You want to be changing for you, not for them, anyway. 

Fussing about how you think you prefer your partner’s body to look, is a fool’s errand. You can advocate for an increase in your shared activity level; get some bicycles; get a dog to have to take constant walks with, etc. There’s plenty of stuff you can do that may help get you both into shape. But there’s usually no good reason to say you’re disappointed with the other person’s body—unless things are really out of control, and the physical issues are egregious enough to be part of a larger problem. Which is pretty rare.

Most of the time, our bodies remain more or less the same, and most of us exercise just enough to keep them roughly the way they are, staving off deterioration. Sometimes an exercise program will get sustained, and somebody will win-through to eventually obvious good results. But most of us aren’t chasing that anyway—just exercising to stay healthy. Life is for living, and as a professor of mine once said, “It’s not a damn beauty contest.”

Often patients report feeling icky about the naked body they see in the mirror. That hurts, and there are many good books (not all of them addressed to women, though most are) about how to cope with those painful feelings and neutralize them. I want to offer an analogy that the people I saw this morning found very helpful.

It goes like this: 

When we talk about monetary wealth, it seems obvious that the more dollars you have, the less poor you are. What seems to count is simply the number of dollars in the bank. But that’s only part of the truth; it’s just an approximation. The real measure of financial freedom is purchasing power. One dollar in the year 1900 paid for the same goods you can only buy today for $38. So the single bill in that era was worth more than a twenty is worth now. Because of inflation, the absolute number of dollars is relevant but misleading; their actual value is the meaningful thing. 

In a similar way, the numerical data you associate with your appearance—your weight, measurements, various muscle sizes, BMI, the dimensions of gendered body parts, all that quantitative stuff—is relevant but misleading. The actual value lies in the quality of your experience as an embodied human being. It’s your body image, not your actual body, that determines whether you’re at home in your own skin or miserable about not looking like someone else, whether that’s a past self or a rival or a movie star. 

If you don’t like your belly, or your arms, or whatever, there are two main issues: the physical facts, and your difficult feelings about them. Both can change. But you can start with the feelings. Easing up on the scornful judgments will make you more free, not less free, to govern your own policies about your physical life. Hating the flesh that keeps you alive is not much of a real contributor to your motivated self care (i.e., getting-in plenty of regular physical activity, or refraining from impulsively eating your feelings). People work out or stay active because it makes them feel good, not because they’re at war with themselves. Letting go of the anxious high standards, letting go of the contempt, letting go of the relentless measuring and comparing—it won’t prevent you at all from going on to do the kind of incremental improvement that feels good and gradually makes a sustained positive difference. If loving your body still feels unfeasible just now, start off by being polite to it, and build from there.

If you’re married, or in a committed relationship, the way your partner responds to your physicality is probably part of how you feel about what you see in the mirror. Give each other the working materials to easily generate an erotic home-base that feels hot and sexy sometimes, warm and friendly most of the time, and coldly evaluative never.

Judgements and measurements are for competition, and home is not a place to compete. Make it easy to feel good naked there. Make it easy to delight in your gift of aliveness, as you both already are, right now. And if it feels important, you can also make it easy to reach for small wise lifestyle changes in the name of longevity and embodiment, not shame or guilt. Help each other to move away from the darkness of measurement and evaluation, toward the light of acceptance and exploration. You might as well.

There are so many different kinds of people in the world that it’s almost impossible to generalize about men and women without being misunderstood. But patterns do emerge—and as a therapist, the more people you see, the more you find them cropping up here and there over the long term. None of these is universal, and even the examples that fit a given pattern will have novel elements. But describing patterns can be helpful, and much is lost when we give up on that effort out of zeal for political purity or fear of being misconstrued.

What I’m saying in this post does not apply to every couple. It might not even apply to every couple I have in mind as I write it. It certainly doesn’t apply to couples in which one person is narcissistically entitled and doesn’t give a hoot about the other person’s feelings; those need a very different kind of help. But I’m pretty convinced that the particular dynamic I’ve been seeing lately is common enough that a blogpost on it could be helpful, so here goes. It takes up some of the themes in my 11/27/2023 post about Couple's Therapy: Why Fights Escalate & How To Stop Them.

Meryl Streep recently said a poignant thing onstage at an event held by the Washington Post. It made a big impact, in that many women and some men have reposted it with passion. The gist was, “Women speak the language of men, but men don’t speak the language of women.” It reminded me of Deborah Tannen’s 1990 book, You Just Don’t Understand: Women and Men in Conversation, which remains justly popular.

There’s a vast scholarly literature on gender differences in social space, discourse, and conflict. The differences in how we tend to communicate are consistent enough that it makes sense to call them two different languages—provided we bear in mind that this is a metaphor, an overstatement that helps an important point get articulated. If men and women really spoke two different languages, most of us would be completely unintelligible to each other, just as 80% of Americans are monolingual. 

When couples argue, and the couple is half female and half male, it often happens that they talk past each other because they have different understandings of the point of the conversation. As is often observed, most men tend to be more information-oriented and solution-focused, while most women tend to be more expressive of their experience and focused on making themselves understood. Neither person is necessarily competent at those tasks, or at selecting somebody who is, or at finding ways to encompass all four of the values which those tasks represent (accuracy, pragmatism, authenticity, and acknowledgement). Often those values don’t even fit together so well anyway. So the pitfalls become pretty evident after you’ve seen a few hundred or a few thousand of these arguments unfold, in a large number of different couples with varying levels of rhetorical skill, self-awareness, psychological mindedness, and depth of commitment. 

An interesting thing keeps happening. Guys who have been socialized to care about women’s experience tend to be quite preoccupied with their own goodness or badness. If you’re a man who has robustly feminist sisters; if you have a mother who was either crushed by an oppressive male, or resolutely empowered (or both, where a gendered trauma drove an eventual political awakening); if you have women in your life whose grievances ever alarmed you about your own role in something called “patriarchy,” you are likely to be vigilant about what women think of you. You might really hate being seen as a bad human being until proven otherwise. And if this has been a big issue in your environment, you might even be hyper-vigilant about it, always churning out new evidence that you’re a decent man—fully a man and fully decent, thank you very much. 

That can be exhausting, and even after you get over it and decide to let your ordinary humane demeanor speak for itself, that old urgent need to defend your own goodness rises to the fore whenever a woman confronts you with anything that feels like grievance—regardless of the facts. Uh-oh, one says to oneself, it’s time to prove once again that I am not whatever monster this person may have in mind. And then it’s off to the races… 

That frame of mind gets in the way when you’re trying to connect to somebody who’s annoyed or even furious with you. It locks you in to defending yourself, usually by disputing whatever details of her presentation strike you as inaccurate embellishments that weaken your case and strengthen hers (a zero-sum game). So you seize upon those details, trying to play defense and score points at the same time. But even if you’re entirely correct about such details (e.g., exactly when some event took place, or how many times you took out the trash, or whether one thing happened before or after something else, etc.), and even if they actually matter to the issue at hand—often they don’t—you are still getting nowhere. Being right matters far less than it seems like it should.

That is because (for the moment) the woman you’re talking to may not be so interested in the individual facts, or not in the same ones you’re disputing. Her main interest may be in what she sees as the general arc of what took place, and how it is making her feel. Until you fit that piece into place, by understanding her position and showing you understand it, nothing you say will matter much—especially not an apology. Notice: showing you understand is the main thing. It’s even more important than actually agreeing with what you’ve understood. Why? Because the biggest relational threat to anybody is the prospect that their personal experience just does not matter. That’s why you’re so invested in defending yourself, and why she’s so invested in establishing her perspective.

Do not apologize—at least not at the beginning. Listen, empathize, and evoke her suggestions about what would restore the connection between the two of you. Do all the good stuff that an apology is supposed to accomplish, but without saying the words “I’m sorry” or “I apologize”—unless two things are the case: (1) you really do regret whatever words or actions you’re apologizing for, and (2) she asks for an apology. If she doesn’t, the only reason to give one is if your feelings of regret are still there after you’ve done the other things apologies are supposed to do, such as: take some appropriate degree of responsibility, reach for reconnection, and offer a suitable policy improvement or some sort of balancing gesture (and then, of course, check in and see if those moves helped).

Otherwise, saying “I’m sorry” can cost more than it’s worth, because it makes you feel defeated in a power struggle, and the fight is lost by everyone so long as it remains a power struggle, no matter which of you “wins.” If only one of you “wins,” you both lose.

Another problem with the words “I’m sorry” is that they can take the place of whatever reparation, or new pact, or emotional work, is really needed. Get that done instead, and the explicit apology might be quite unnecessary. That’s what “sorry doesn’t pay my bills” means, in a less obnoxious form. 

You will both be better served by focusing on improvements to the reality between you, than by placing blame and eating blame. Blame is about resentment (and resentment is, by the way, the biggest impediment to a good sex life for a couple). You resent me for something, so you blame me; I eat the blame, and now I resent you in turn. Blame is responsibility plus resentment, and nobody needs resentment in their diet. Why would I “eat the blame”? Well, to restore peace. But also to show I’m good, since a bad man would not accept any responsibility. If a good man does refuse to take responsibility, it’s because the accusation is either false, or partly true but so awful in his own eyes that accepting it would make him, well, bad. In other words, taking responsibility and refusing to do so can both be ways of broadcasting my terribly urgent claim that I-am-good-not-bad.

Here are two generalizations about conflict in couples:

When a man relentlessly defends himself in an argument with a woman, he is usually doing it to protect the goodness of his character: I am a good person! Can’t you see that?

When a woman exerts indignation in a relationship with a man, she is usually asserting her rights, her boundaries, her prerogatives: I matter! Can’t you see that?

Until the man stops trying to prove to her, and to himself, that he is GOOD and NOT BAD, he cannot go about the urgent business of showing the woman that she—her needs, her dignity, her work, her feelings—really does matter to him.

So the fight continues. Neither person can afford to let up (that’s their mistaken belief) because that would risk validating the other’s right to take them for granted as a doormat. The tragedy is this: even though neither of them has any real interest in subjugating the other (except in really awful relationships, which are not what I’m discussing right now), they have to keep fighting as if that threat were real. Each is reacting to private personal fears of being crushed, by a person who has no actual interest in crushing them.

What they do need are well-placed adjustments to the agreements they make, the ways they habitually do things, the rules of the little relational micro-culture that defines that particular relationship. Clarifying those is the upside of the conflicts—but they’re only worth enduring if the downside is smaller than the upside, the benefit greater than the cost. Learn to “fight” without hurting each other, and you’re pretty much golden.

When I see this pattern, one of the major moves I try to make is to get the man to see this. Let go of the effort to prove that you’re good. Accept that you are good. Accept that others can make you question the quality of your choices, words, and deeds, but don’t accept any assertions that you’re morally inferior to someone else; it’s a non-starter. If they’re merely implying that you might be no good, well, remember that they might not really be trying to imply any such thing—just reporting their personal distress about something you said or did.

After all, whatever you’re worried about is what you’re likely to project, hearing others as if they are saying the very thing you fear. Maybe they are; maybe not. Either way, trust that you are good. Relax. Then you can think clearly enough to help this other person you care about, who is feeling hurt and angry. Once her anger is over, then you can afford to revisit the question of your role in what transpired. 

The angrier someone is, the less they care about what your intentions were when they first got angry. Focusing on the merits of your intentions is worse than useless if you do it too early. Nobody can make much use of such information until they are thinking with their prefrontal cerebral cortex instead of their amygdala, the fight/flight/freeze module that can hardly think at all. Two simultaneously enraged people are in a tricky situation, because between them and the exit doors, there is a thick fog of adrenaline and cortisol. One of the doors is an exit from the fight, while another is an exit from the whole relationship. The fog makes it hard to know which is which.

If a guy has a vise-like grip on the effort to defend his character, and it’s driving the two of them bananas, I need to help him let go of it. That works better if I can offer him something else to hold onto instead—which is also true of encouraging somebody to quit an addiction, like alcohol or gambling: you can’t just take something away, you have to replace it.

The necessary, new, better thing is often hidden behind the more familiar thing he thinks he needs to keep on using despite poor results. As an analogy, consider the recreational abuse of “whippets,” those little metal canisters of compressed nitrous oxide gas. It can indeed be poisonous (especially over time), but the main way nitrous oxide hurts and even kills people is by displacing the oxygen we need to survive. Defending yourself instead of reaching out to your upset lady is a naively misguided tactic that blocks the interpersonal docking-site where you would otherwise connect. It also blocks the space in you where a new interpersonal repertoire could otherwise take root.

What’s the better thing that should replace it? A stance of really believing in your own goodness, followed by the unfolding lived experience of soberly managing your partner’s distress in ways that afford dignity to you both. Without requiring either of you to lose face, you try to marshal all your available warmth, patience, and agility for somebody who deserves that kind of effort. Of course, this is harder to do if you don’t really feel she does deserve it. And if that’s what your gut and/or your mind tells you, well, that’s a whole other blog post. Those aren’t the relationships I’m thinking of right now. 

This post is for people in resilient, deep romantic relationships that are still troubled by frequent conflicts that don’t make enough sense, don’t end soon enough, and don’t feel resolved. Replace bids for power and control with bids for connection. Replace verbal self-defense with curiosity about the cause and nature of the trouble, attunement to the other person’s feelings, and an eventual convergence where the problem can be seen as the natural result of a misunderstanding between two good people. 

Most of the time, the root of a couple’s conflict is not anyone’s bad intentions or perverse character traits. Maybe somebody dropped the ball, and the other one didn’t; maybe somebody really wronged the other in a strongly asymmetric, lamentable way. Those happen. But the majority of “fights” are about big broad themes, conveniently jammed into currently local situations that are in themselves quite trivial. If a couple says, “We fight about stupid sh*t all the time,” the underlying themes are probably Am I good, or bad? and Am I somebody, or nothing?

Ideally, you could each spontaneously blurt out at the very same instant, “You’re virtuous!” and “You’re important!” and the whole tangled ball of bickering darkness would vanish in the sunshine of your mutual loving care. Since that’s pretty unlikely, somebody has to start the process on his own initiative, and draw the other into collaboration on a positive feedback loop that brings you both out of the mud and up into peace and fun and togetherness. 

Which of you two should take up that leadership task, this time? Whoever is up for it? Whoever is less upset? Whoever is currently blocking it by prioritizing moralistic self-defense instead? My answer here is a partial one, but it does fit in: Sir, there is a gratifying experience of masculine, mature, competent role-appropriate behavior waiting for you right under your nose.

Snap out of the trance you’re in (the one about proving you’re a good person), and you’ll see it right there for the taking. If you can escape your own worry about being insulted, you may be able to guide your partner out of the miserable state of anger and protest that you both want to quench. And if you know what not to put up with, and how to make those boundaries clear without being scary or overwhelmed, you can calmly assess the quality of what she does with your contribution. Is the peacemaking effort reciprocated? Is the reparative kindness mutual? Does everyone present—all two of you—seem to prefer peace as soon as it’s genuinely available, or is somebody prolonging the conflict for bad or murky reasons?

This approach is not always a good fit for every relationship, nor does it work miracles. But if the couple has the right stuff without the right repertoire, this approach can get them on track toward learning how to use what they’ve got. Sometimes that starts with a man giving up an illusory project of vindicating his character, and replacing it with a real project of connecting with the person he cares about. You don’t need to prove you’re a good man by arguing that you are, if you can do it with loving behavior instead.

Of course, that requires a partner who won’t squander the opportunity you’re offering, or take opportunistic advantage of it by repeatedly asking too much of you in exchange for peace, or persistently gaslighting you with blame you don’t deserve. You’ll have to watch for that; if it’s there, you must notice it and take steps, but if it’s not, you’d better stop worrying about it.

Easily said, I know; harder to do. But very, very possible.