You've probably already had the conversation. In the car, maybe, or late at night after the house had gone quiet. You said something like, I think we need some help with this. And it didn't land the way you hoped. Perhaps it went quiet. Perhaps it turned into another version of the same argument, the one where you end up defending the fact that you asked at all.

Most couples stay sat in the car for a minute before their first session. Not because they're late, because neither of them quite knows what they're walking into. Will we have to fight in front of a stranger? Will she take sides? Will I be told everything is my fault?

So here is what actually happens. Not the sales version — the real shape of a session, as it runs in my practice room in Nantwich and online.

It's a Tuesday evening. The argument starts about something small, the bin, the calendar, a tone on a text, and within ten minutes you're somewhere you've been a hundred times before. They've gone quiet and you're getting louder. Or you're getting louder and they've gone quiet. Either way, it's familiar in the worst possible way. By 10pm one of you is in bed pretending to be asleep and the other is in the kitchen wondering how you got here. Again.

Most couples don't really fight about new things. They fight about the same thing, in the same way, on different topics. The good news is, the shape of that fight is much less mysterious than it feels.

Most couples don’t come to therapy because things are mildly uncomfortable. They come because something feels broken, urgent, or frighteningly close to the edge.

Conversations go in circles. Arguments escalate quickly or shut down completely. One partner feels unheard; the other feels constantly criticised. There may be distance, resentment, betrayal, or a deep sense of loneliness, even while still together.