Often, both partners can sense where a conversation is headed almost as soon as it begins. The familiar edge in the voice. The subtle tightening. The narrowing of focus as the range of possible responses begins to shrink. A sequence that has played out many times before is already in motion.

And yet, despite that awareness, the conversation unfolds in much the same way. Knowing what is happening still does not grant much freedom to change it.

We understand what is happening—and still find ourselves doing it again.

The couples who seek out this work are often accomplished, thoughtful people, used to solving complex problems, and unsettled by how powerless they can feel inside the few conversations that matter most to them.

I help those couples understand what sets these familiar sequences in motion, and how to intervene before they gather their usual force. The aim is not better explanations or improved intentions, but restoring choice and steadiness at precisely the moments they tend to disappear.

Experience Shaped by Complexity, Pressure, and Real Consequences

My work has unfolded in very different settings.
With couples in long-standing emotional conflict.
With corporations facing high-stakes strategic decisions.
And with physicians and nurses caring for patients with life-threatening illness.

What these environments shared was not the same kind of emotion, but the same underlying challenge. Capable people trying to think, decide, and act well at moments when access to choice and perspective becomes temporarily diminished.

I saw this in all three settings.

In couples, the narrowing came through emotion and history.
In medicine, through responsibility and loss.
In organizations, through role and consequence.

But in each, capable people found their access to choice reduced precisely when it mattered most.

The forms were different. The underlying dynamic was not.

Across these different systems, I found myself returning to the same question. What happens to a person’s capacity to choose their best response when pressure rises? And what allows that capacity to be restored when it matters most?

The way I now work with couples grew out of watching this question play out, again and again, in different forms. Over time, it became clear that insight, intention, and experience are rarely the limiting factors. What matters most is whether, in the moment of strain, partners can remain oriented and responsive, and able to respond collaboratively rather than simply react.

How my work is different

Because these patterns take hold in the heat of live interaction, the work itself has to take place there as well — in the moments when conversations tighten, assumptions harden, and familiar reactions take over.

Together, we focus on:

• how conflict patterns activate
• what keeps them going
• and where small, well-timed shifts can change what happens next

This is not about scripts, advice, or emotional control. It is about staying engaged when emotion is triggered and responding in ways that remain collaborative and workable — so insight can lead to real change.

What this work is — and what it is not

This is coaching, not psychotherapy.

I do not diagnose, treat mental illness, or provide crisis intervention. I do not take sides or decide who is “right.” The work is collaborative, present-focused, and centered on restoring choice and movement.

It is best suited to reflective, capable couples who are willing to engage seriously — especially those who feel they have already done the insight work and are ready for something more practical and immediate.

I work with a limited number of couples at a time, and I am careful about fit. The structure and intensity of this work make it a good fit for some couples, and not the right one for others.

To carry out this work in a disciplined, time-limited way, I developed a focused six-week framework called the Conflict Pattern Reset.

If you would like to see how that work is structured, you can read about it here:

See the 6-week structure