Authors: Stan Tatkin
One of these areas is the field of neuroscience, the study of the human brain. This, I discovered, provides a physiological basis for understanding our strengths and weaknesses, including those that drive our relationships. For example, I am utterly stupid when it comes to math, an ability managed by many parts of the brain, such as the intraparietal sulcus. Fortunately, my work doesn’t depend on math, nor do my relationships with my wife and daughter. But my ability to read faces, emotional tone, and social cues (managed by the brain’s right hemisphere) is a different matter. If I were weak in that area, I would be out of a job and maybe even a marriage (again). As we will see in chapter 2, some parts of our brain predispose us to first and foremost seek security. This can wreak havoc on a relationship if we don’t learn to use the more evolved parts of the brain to override this wiring and exert control over the primitive parts.
A second area of research is attachment theory, which explains our biological need to attach to or bond with others, starting with our earliest relationships. Our early experiences form an instructional blueprint that is stored in body memory and becomes part of our basic relational wiring—our sense of safety and security. In a nutshell, some individuals are fundamentally secure in their relationships, while others are insecure. Insecurity can lead us to remain distant from a partner or to harbor ambivalence about relating. However insecurity manifests, as we will see in chapter 3, it has insidious effects on a relationship if we don’t try to rewire the dysfunctional tendencies acquired early in life.
The third area of research I found fascinating and helpful was the biology of human arousal. When you hear of arousal, you may immediately think of sexual arousal. But I am referring here to a more general sense of arousal: our moment-to-moment ability to manage our energy, alertness, and readiness to engage. In the context of couples, research in this area suggests how we as partners can manage one another’s highs and lows. We don’t have to remain at the mercy of each other’s runaway moods and feelings. Rather, as competent managers of our partners, we can become expert at moving, shifting, motivating, influencing, soothing, and inspiring one another.
Each of these areas of research informs this book. In the past ten years, I have synthesized these ideas and integrated them into my therapy practice. I call this work a
psychobiological
approach. Along the way, I realized this approach isn’t of value just to couples seeking therapy; everyone who is in or is planning to be in, or even hoping to be in, a relationship can benefit.
And I have been a prime beneficiary. All the hard work I did paved the way for my current marriage, in which I discovered, and have for the first time been able to enjoy, a secure, functioning family. This relationship became the gold standard by which I could test and measure the principles described in this book.
As I mentioned, many couples seek reasons for their problems. Yet the theories and reasons they come up with generally are false. The approach I am offering can, I believe, make the difference. In a nutshell, I’ll help you harness the power of your brain and your partner’s brain for love instead of war, in a scientifically supported way. In this book, I present ten key principles that show you how to avoid common pitfalls that deter or undermine so many relationships. These principles are:
These principles are based on the latest science, but let me stress again: you don’t have to grasp the technicalities of the science to understand these principles. I have done that for you. In fact, I’ve done my best to make them fun and enjoyable. I promise not to put you to sleep with scientific jargon. As I said, life is complex enough already. If there is a hallmark for this age, perhaps it will be our ability to take the complex findings of scientific research and apply them smoothly and effectively in our everyday lives, to better understand ourselves and to love more fully.
Each chapter includes exercises to help you apply the principle discussed therein. You can do most of the exercises on your own, or you and your partner can do them together. Actually, there is a certain irony here. An important premise of this book is that happy couples share a high degree of closeness and togetherness. Yet most people tend to read books—even books about relationships—on their own. So I encourage you to buck this trend. Share what is in this book with your partner. You will get even more out of it.
Chapter 1
The Couple Bubble: How You Can Keep Each Other Safe and Secure
Who among us doesn’t want to feel loved? Finally to be able to be ourselves just as we are, to feel cherished, cared for, and protected—this has been the pursuit of humans since the beginning of recorded time. We are social animals. We depend on other people. We need other people.
Some of us have parents or siblings or cousins or other family members to give us respite. Some of us turn to friends or colleagues. Some of us turn to drugs and alcohol or other substances or activities that make us feel alive, wanted, satisfied, relieved, or calmed. Some of us turn to personal growth seminars, or even seek psychological treatment. Some of us turn to our work or focus on hobbies. One way or another—through wholesome, healthy means or less-than-savory means—we seek our safe zone.
This longing for a safe zone is one reason we pair up. However, partners—whether in a romantic relationship or committed friendship—often fail to use each other as advocates and allies against all hostile forces. They don’t see the opportunities to make a home for one another; to create a safe place in which to relax and feel accepted, wanted, protected, and cared for. I see this frequently in couples who seek therapy. Often it is the very reason they seek professional help.
The Relationship Comes First
Jenny and Bradley were on the brink of break-up. Neither wanted to end the relationship, but bad things kept happening, and each blamed the other. They had started dating as freshmen, and they were now about to graduate from college. Both wanted to get married and have a family.
Jenny’s family resided on the East Coast near the college. She enjoyed close ties with them, particularly her mother, with whom she spoke daily. Bradley hailed from the West Coast, where his family lived. Because of the distance, he made only one trip annually, each time inviting Jenny. She often felt neglected during these trips, despite the fact that she adored Bradley’s father. Bradley liked to attend parties and engage with his friends in a way that left Jenny to fend alone against advances from other men and what she considered dull conversations with their dates. Bradley never seemed to notice Jenny’s discontent during these events, but certainly felt the sting of her angry withdrawal afterward.
Their conversations would go something like this:
“You always do this!” she says. “You bring me to these things and then leave me standing there as if I don’t exist. I don’t know why you bother to invite me!”
Bradley’s response is defensive. “I’m sick and tired of having this conversation. You’re being ridiculous. I didn’t do anything wrong!”
To make her case, Jenny brings up Bradley’s friend, Tommy, who she says has been inappropriate with her. “He gets drunk and comes on to me, and you don’t even notice. I don’t feel protected by you at all.”
Bradley’s response, again, is dismissive. “He’s just playing around.”
These conversations usually ended with Jenny going off to sulk and Bradley feeling punished. Nor did things go better when the situation was reversed. Jenny often visited her family, and expected Bradley to join her. He complained she disappeared with her mother and sisters, forcing him to “hang” with her father, with whom he had little in common. When the couple were alone, their conversations about this sounded similar in many ways to the previous one:
“I can’t stand coming here,” Bradley complains.
“Why?” Jenny sounds surprised.
“You keep sticking me with your father. I feel like a worm because he thinks I’m not good enough for you, and at dinner you act like you agree with him!” Bradley’s voice rises in anger.
“Shhh,” Jenny replies. “Don’t yell.”
Bradley stops himself, pursing his lips and dropping his head. “I don’t get it,” he says in a lowered voice.
“Get what?”
“Why you invite me. I just feel bad here,” he says, without raising his head to look at her.
Jenny softens and moves toward him with a loving gesture. “My family loves you,” she says. “I hear that all the time from Mom and my sisters. Dad likes you, too, he’s just…like that.”
Bradley’s face snaps into view, reddened, with tears in his eyes. “That’s baloney! If your family ‘loves me,’” he says with finger quotations, “why don’t I hear it from them? If your dad is so loving, why don’t
you
sit with him, and let me hang with your mom?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Jenny replies as she heads for the door. “Just forget it!”
“And you know what else?” Bradley continues in hopes of her hearing. “You’re just like your dad. You put me down right in front of everyone.”
Jenny leaves the room, slamming the door behind her.
When we enter into a relationship, we want to matter to our partner, to be visible and important. As in the case of Jenny and Bradley, we may not know how to achieve this, but we want it so much that it shapes much of what we do and say to one another. We want to know our efforts are noticed and appreciated. We want to know our relationship is regarded as important by our partner and will not be relegated to second or third place because of a competing person, task, or thing.
It hasn’t always been this way. If we compare today’s love relationships with the relationships of old, we might be gravely disappointed. In centuries past, rarely did couples get together simply because they loved one another. Marriages were arranged for political, religious, and economic purposes. Husbands and wives stayed together to provide security for their family. At the same time, duty and obligation—for both partners—served a male-advantaged social contract. Safety and security came at an emotional price. Yet no one complained, because nobody expected anything different.
In our modern Western culture, marriage for love tends to be the norm. We expect to be swept off our feet or to feel whole and completed or to believe we’ve met our soul mate. And we expect this profound connection to sustain our relationship. Nothing seems more important. However, these feelings and ideals often exact a price if we as partners are unable to provide one another with a satisfying level of security. The truth is, even if a couple does experience a profound connection, this represents only the beginning of their relationship. What ultimately counts in the life of the couple is what happens after their courtship, love affair, or infatuation phase. What counts is their ability to be there for one another, no matter what.
Consider another couple, Greta and Bram, both thirty. When they married a year ago, they rented an apartment in the city, where Greta was securely employed as a school teacher. Bram’s family lived in a nearby rural town, and he commuted to work in the family agricultural business.
Each year, Greta was required to attend a gala fundraiser for her school. It was not the type of event that ordinarily suited Bram, who preferred dungarees to dress shirts, ties, and jackets. He also tended to feel shy and even a bit tongue tied, especially in gatherings with folks he didn’t know. Greta, on the other hand, moved well in large circles of strangers. Despite their differences, however, Bram prepared himself for an evening with Greta on his arm.
Their conversation as they dressed went something like this:
“It’s not you, you know,” Bram says with a concerned look on his face, while on his third attempt to make a proper tie. “I just don’t like being with all these people I don’t know.”
“I know,” Greta replies, staring straight ahead as she applies her eyeliner. “I appreciate your willingness to come anyway. The moment you want to leave, we’ll go. Okay?”
“Okay,” says Bram, as he finally gets the tie right.
After she parks their car, Greta turns to Bram and switches on the overhead light. “How do I look?” she asks, puckering her lips.
“Beautiful as usual,” Bram replies with a lingering gaze into her eyes.
She scans his eyes in return, and a moment passes as they enjoy a mutual gale of excitement. “Let’s make a plan,” she says softly. “You’ll keep me on your arm when we go in, and I’ll probably see some people I know. Don’t leave me, okay? I want to introduce you.”
“Okay,” Bram responds with an anxious smile. “What if I have to go to the bathroom?” he quips.
“You may go without me,” Greta quickly responds in kind, “but after that, I expect you to get your handsome butt back to your beautiful wife.”
They share a smile and kiss. “This job is important,” Greta says as they get out of the car, “but not as important as you are to me.”
As you can see, Jenny and Bradley and Greta and Bram have very different ways of handling situations as a couple. It’s probably obvious which relationship works better, feels better, and deserves to be held up as exemplary. But let’s look at both couples in greater detail and see if we can understand why they function as they do, and how they came to be as they are.