Issue #68: We went to couples therapy.

Aliza and I, along with five other women, talk about what it was like.

If you enjoy reading Platonic Love each week, there are a few ways to let us know: “like” this post, leave a comment, share Platonic Love, and/or upgrade to a paid subscription. Thanks for reading!

Written by

Aja Frost

. Edited by

Aliza Sir

.

After our second session with our couples therapist, Maria, I (Aja) knew I didn’t like her. Her tone was brusque, almost dismissive — a stark contrast to my normal therapist, who was gentle and soft-spoken and would always listen patiently, even as I rambled.

After I described a typical day in my life, Maria arched her brow and said, “So, while Sam is out working on music, or playing basketball, you’re sitting at home watching TV?” 

I didn’t like her. I still don’t. I think she saved our relationship.

Left: Quote from psychotherapist Esther Perel; Right: The Prime series Mr. & Mrs. Smith (which we both loved!) gave us one of the funnier pop culture depictions of couples therapy

I will eagerly talk about going to individual therapy anytime the topic comes up. I’ve even put a recurring block for “therapy” in my work calendar. As Aliza’s alluded to before, therapy these days is almost a signifier for being an evolved, self-aware person — someone who’s actively improving themselves and how they move through the world.

But couples therapy took me a long time to talk about openly. In fact, I’ll never forget the day Aliza told me she and her husband (also named Sam) had gone to couples therapy. 

We were sitting on some plastic Adirondack chairs on Harvard’s campus, scooping melted JP Lick’s ice cream into our mouths, and I’d confessed to Aliza that Sam and I had been fighting… a lot. We’d decided to move to Brooklyn — something we’d both wanted to do for years — and then, after we’d picked a neighborhood and told all our friends and family we were moving, he’d changed his mind. He wanted to stay in Boston and pursue the inroads he’d recently made in the local music scene. I thought about moving by myself, but we didn’t want to enter into a long-distance relationship with no end date — nor shoulder double rents in two of the most expensive cities in the world. I decided to stay in Boston, too. But I was devastated and resentful. I couldn’t forgive what felt simultaneously like a betrayal and the loss of a future. It became hard for us to spend time together without me getting upset and eventually crying and/or snapping at him.

“We went through something like that,” Aliza said. “A few years ago. I wanted to leave D.C. and Sam wanted to stay. We went back and forth, back and forth. Neither of us would change our minds. After a while, we were like, okay, we’ve gotten as far as we can on our own. So we went to couples therapy.” 

Left: Aliza & Sam at their senior prom (we’re not going to talk about Sam’s tux!); Right: Aliza & Sam with baby Jude

Something opened in my chest. Aliza and Sam were still together — were having a kid. Couples therapy wasn’t the death knell, the final stop before breaking up.  “We’ve been going to couples therapy!” I said.

And couple’s therapy, as much as I disliked Maria, was slowly but surely helping us heal our relationship. 

Left: Aja & Sam on their first trip together in 2016; Right: Aja & Sam at Blake & Suz’s 2022 wedding (Suz introduced Aja and Aliza)

Aliza and I want to lift the taboo of couples therapy — so that other people feel more comfortable both going to and talking about it. Because couples therapy, much like individual therapy, can be an incredibly helpful tool, and electing to do it doesn’t mean your relationship is a hot mess or lost cause. Today, Aliza and I, along with five other women who are also still with their partners, are talking about going to couples therapy…

• The catalyst for going

• How we found our therapists

• What therapy was like

• How we paid for it

• And how it ended