Peter and Hannah, a sophisticated, attractive couple, in their early thirties, living in Brentwood, sought marriage counseling. Married for three years, they described themselves as close and loving but struggled with recurring fights about household responsibilities. Peter, a graduate student pursuing his MBA at UCLA Anderson School of Management, had an easy, approachable demeanor, while Hannah, a high-achieving professional in the biomedical engineering sector, carried herself with intensity and focus. Their lifestyle was busy, their careers demanding, and despite their genuine love for each other, repeated household conflicts escalated into arguments and disconnection.
This case demonstrates how Imago Relationship Therapy can transform an unregulated, repetitive conflict into a moment of understanding, empathy, and connection. It highlights how marriage counseling provides couples with communication tools that not only resolve impasses but also heal childhood wounds and foster both individual and relational growth.
The Unregulated Argument
At the start of the session, before I introduced any structure, they quickly slipped into a familiar argument.
Hannah leaned forward, her voice sharp with frustration:
“Every time I walk in the door, there are dishes in the sink. I’ve told you so many times—it makes me feel like I have to do everything. It’s exhausting!”
Peter, visibly tense, shot back defensively:
“That’s not fair. I do things around the house—you just don’t notice them. You come home and only see what isn’t done. It’s like nothing I do ever counts.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, exhaling heavily, and crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest:
“Because when I come home after working twelve hours, I don’t want to see a mess. It feels like you’re just sitting around while I’m running myself into the ground.”
Peter’s voice grew louder, his face flushed:
“That’s not true. You make it sound like I’m lazy, but I’m not. I do plenty, and you don’t even acknowledge it!”
Their exchange grew circular, both interrupting and defending, their voices rising, the energy charged. I observed the escalation, noting the cycle: Hannah’s complaints triggering Peter’s defensiveness, Peter’s defensiveness fueling Hannah’s frustration. Neither felt heard; both felt invalidated.
I raised my hand gently to pause them.
“Let’s slow this down. Right now, you’re caught in the same cycle that leaves you both feeling unheard and disconnected. I’d like to guide you into an Imago Relationship Therapy process called the Intentional Dialogue. This structure will help you listen differently—not to defend, but to understand. Are you willing to try?”
Both nodded reluctantly, their breathing still uneven but signaling a willingness to try. After all, they had come to marriage counseling to break free from this familiar, negative spiral.
Transition into Intentional Dialogue
Peter agreed to start. His voice lowered as he tried again:
“I feel frustrated because there are things I do around the house that you don’t see. When you come home, there might be a few dishes in the sink, the floor may need sweeping, and but it’s not terrible. I might be sitting and watching TV, but it doesn’t feel overwhelming to me. Yet, when you come home, that’s what you focus on. You act like it’s a huge mess which it’s not.”
I instructed Hannah to engage in active listening and mirror back what Peter shared. She repeated his words carefully, her tone more even than before.
I then asked Peter, “What story do you tell yourself when that happens?”
His shoulders slumped and his gaze moved to the floor as he admitted:
“It doesn’t even seem like you’re happy to see me. You just focus on what’s not done. It feels bad.”
“When you tell yourself that story,” I continued, “how do you show up in the relationship?”
“I withdraw.”
“And when you withdraw, how does that affect her?”
“She pulls back too. Then she’s less excited to see me.” His voice trailed off, his body hunched in his chair.
Hannah mirrored Peter’s words once more, the tension in her body eased—her folded arms dropped to her sides, and she leaned slightly toward her husband, indicating more curiosity than condemnation.
The emotional climate in the room shifted. What began as a heated argument was slowing into reflection, vulnerability, and understanding.
Validation
I prompted Hannah to validate Peter’s perspective by letting him know that what he said was understandable. Validation doesn’t require agreement—it acknowledges your partner’s experience from their point of view. When a partner feels validated, anxiety decreases, creating space for greater connection.
Validation rests on the premise that we all make sense when seen through the lens of our own experience.
Hannah nodded gently and said, in a calm voice, “You make sense.”
Peter’s demeanor shifted immediately. His head lifted, his posture straightened, and a faint, relieved smile crossed his face—as if her words had offered him a moment of reprieve.
Exploring Feelings
I handed them a laminated emotions wheel and asked Hannah to identify three feelings Peter might be experiencing. After some reflection, she suggested, “Frustrated, resentful, and disappointed.”
Relationships are shaped and sustained by emotion—currents that carry us toward or away from one another. Empathy becomes the bridge across those currents, allowing partners to cross into each other’s inner worlds. Emotionally attuned marriage counseling—recognizes and names feelings—helping intimate relationships thrive. It strengthens emotional intelligence and supports both personal and relational growth.
Peter responded softly, “Not resentment—that feels too harsh. But yes, frustrated and disappointed. Maybe despair.”
Hannah mirrored back gently, “Despair.”
Shifting Perspective
I invited Hannah to reveal what touched her about Peter’s words. She responded: “I guess I would say that you don’t think I’m happy to see you when I get home.”
Encouraged, she elaborated: “I like everything in its place. When the dishes are dirty or the floor needs sweeping, it feels like we’re not succeeding—that something is off. Like we’re not hitting the mark.”
Her posture slumped, the weight of exhaustion visible in her body. As Peter mirrored her words, tension gathered in his shoulders—a quiet resignation, as if bracing for the familiar argument to surface once more.
I asked, “Is that belief similar to or different from your childhood experience?”
She paused in reflection before admitting, “I guess it’s similar. I never wanted to have friends over growing up because my dad was a hoarder. He insisted on keeping every magazine, newspaper, book, document, and receipt. It was impossible to move around the house. I felt shame.”
As the memory surfaced, her eyes filled with tears that spilled quietly down her cheeks—a visible release of the pain she carried within her.
Peter mirrored her words tenderly, summarizing her childhood memory of shame around disorder. He validated her: “You make sense.”
Integration and Empathy
I asked Peter to identify how Hannah might be feeling in that moment. He offered, “Shame, vulnerable, and exhausted.” Holding back tears, Hannah nodded in agreement. We paused together to honor the pain and sadness that surfaced as she reconnected with her childhood experience.
When it was Peter’s turn to respond, he said he was moved by her story. Though he had heard it before, he now recognized the deeper connection between her childhood shame and her need for order. He empathized and offered to help more around the house.
Asked what he realized about himself, Peter reflected:
“I’ve been reluctant to clean because I was afraid of doing it wrong and disappointing you. But I see now how much it matters, and I want to help.”
Hannah mirrored back, her tired eyes beginning to brighten: “I heard you say you empathize with my childhood and that you’re willing to help more around the house.”
When asked to name Peter’s feelings, she guessed, “Shame, frustrated, and heard?”
He corrected her with a smile: “Hopeful, optimistic, and heard. Mostly hopeful.”
Moving Toward Connection
Hannah responded with emotion: “I’m sad that we’re not excited to see each other when I get home. I want us to be happy to see each other. But I’m hopeful that we will be.” Tears welled in her eyes once more—this time carrying not just sadness, but a quiet sense of hope and love.
Peter mirrored her faithfully and, without prompting, validated her: “You make sense.” He added, “I imagine you might feel hopeful, happy, and maybe reluctant?”
She corrected him gently: “I feel seen, heard, and skeptical. We’ve had this conversation so many times before—why will this be different?”
This time Peter responded with conviction:
“No, this time is different. I truly understand now. I see the shame behind your need for order. I empathize with you. This will be different.”
Reflection
This session illustrates the power of the Imago Intentional Dialogue that can be found in couples counseling. Childhood wounding—in this case, Hannah’s shame around disorder—was unconsciously reactivated in their adult relationship, stoking conflict. Through mirroring, validation, and empathy, both partners gained deeper understanding. Peter discovered his fear of failure had kept him from contributing, while Hannah recognized her reactivity was rooted in shame rather than her husband’s laziness.
By slowing down and staying within the structure, the couple was able to transform a repetitive argument into a moment of genuine connection, hope, and renewed commitment.
We Can Help
Every couple carries echoes of their past into the present. When those echoes turn into conflict, it’s not a sign of failure—it’s an invitation to grow. Couples counseling offers a pathway to listen differently, love more consciously, and transform old pain into new understanding.
If you and your partner are ready to reconnect and deepen your intimacy, consider scheduling a couples therapy session at Harvey Center for Relationships. Together, we’ll help you rediscover the aliveness and joy that brought you together.