When Couples Therapy Isn’t Equal: Recognizing Emotional Abuse in the Therapy Room
When a couple comes into therapy, it is often assumed—by both the couple and the therapist—that the goal is to repair the relationship and move forward in a healthier, more connected way. Occasionally, couples will say they are looking for support in ending the relationship, but in my experience, that is rarely stated directly—even when one or both partners are already quietly holding that truth.
So what are couples really looking for?
Insight, first and foremost.
They want to understand what has happened, how they got here, and why they keep having the same conversations over and over again. When you are inside a relationship, it is very difficult to see the patterns clearly. You are in it—emotionally, physically, historically. A therapist offers a subjective outside lens that can begin to make sense of what feels tangled.
Often, couples are also coming in because communication has broken down. One or both partners feel like they have already tried. They’ve expressed, asked, explained—and something about those attempts didn’t land well.
When communication is repeatedly met with criticism, defensiveness, contempt, or stonewalling, trust begins to erode. And when trust erodes, something subtle happens:
We share less
We take fewer emotional risks
We start protecting ourselves instead of reaching toward each other
Eventually, couples can find themselves sitting across from one another with a long history of things that were never fully said.
The Layer That Doesn’t Always Get Named
There is another layer that I pay very close attention to in my work. Sometimes, one partner is experiencing emotional abuse—and they cannot safely express it in the session. Not because they don’t want to. Because something in them does not feel safe enough to go there.
When clients come in individually, they rarely say, “I am being emotionally abused.” Instead, I hear things like:
“Something feels off, but I can’t explain it.”
“I feel like I’m losing myself.”
“I don’t trust my own thoughts anymore.”
There is often self-doubt, brain fog and a quiet sense of needing to self-protect. So I have learned to listen differently. If the story sounds “mild,” but the body tells me something else—tightness, hesitation, a shift in tone, a look that flickers across their face—I pay attention. Those moments matter.
The same is true in couples therapy. I am not just listening to what is being said. I am watching:
who speaks freely and who hesitates
who adjusts themselves mid-sentence
what happens in the room after something vulnerable is shared
how each partner looks at the other—and how they look at me
A Common Scenario
Let me give you an example of something that can happen in the room.
A couple comes in. Let’s say Anna and Mark.
Mark presents as calm, thoughtful, even self-aware. He can articulate the issues in the relationship clearly. He might say things like, “I know I can be distant sometimes,” or “I’m working on being more present.” He comes across well.
Anna, on the other hand, struggles to land her words. She starts to share something and then softens it. She might say, “It’s not that bad,” or “I’m probably overreacting.” At times, she looks toward Mark as she speaks, almost checking if what she is saying is okay.
Nothing overtly alarming is happening. But something in the room feels uneven.
When Anna shares something vulnerable, Mark responds in a way that sounds reasonable—but subtly shifts the focus. He might explain, justify, or reframe. And slowly, the conversation moves away from her experience and back toward something more neutral, more “balanced.” If you are only listening to the content, it can sound like a typical communication issue. If you are watching the process, something else begins to emerge.
When It Doesn’t Show Up Right Away
These dynamics don’t always reveal themselves in the first session. In fact, sometimes the partner engaging in harmful behaviour can be:
very charming
highly aware of how they are perceived
skilled at avoiding obvious signs like criticism or contempt in session
And the partner experiencing harm may, second-guess themselves in real time, minimize their experience and become quieter as the session goes on. This is where the work becomes nuanced.
Because now the question is not just:
“What are they arguing about?”
It becomes:
“What is happening underneath this interaction?”
The Therapist’s Dilemma
There is a real tension here. If I move too quickly and name something as abuse then both partners can become defensive, the therapeutic alliance can break and the couple may not come back.
If I don’t name it at all, the dynamic stays hidden, the more vulnerable partner may feel unseen and the therapy can unintentionally reinforce the imbalance. And something that is important to understand—defensiveness doesn’t only come from the partner causing harm.
The partner experiencing harm may also protect the relationship, downplay what is happening and resist labels that feel too big or too final. This is often about safety, loyalty, and hope.
So What Do We Do?
This is where I slow things down. I don’t rush to label. I don’t ignore what I’m seeing either. I start by tracking patterns and gently bringing awareness to what is happening in the room.
That might look like:
“I notice something shifts here when you start to share that—can we pause there for a moment?”
“I’m curious what it feels like to say that out loud right now.”
“I’m noticing that one voice is coming through more strongly—how does that land for both of you?”
I’m not accusing. I’m not diagnosing. I’m opening a door. Over time, these small moments of awareness begin to build. The dynamic becomes clearer—not because I forced it, but because we created enough safety to see it.
Rethinking “Equal Responsibility”
Many clients have told me that previous couples therapy felt invalidating because they were treated as equally responsible for everything that was happening.
And I understand where that approach comes from. As therapists, we are trained to stay neutral, avoid blame and support shared accountability. In many relationships, that is exactly what is needed. But in relationships where there is a power imbalance, this approach can actually cause harm because equal responsibility is not the same as equal impact and equal accountability is not the same as equal power. If one partner consistently has more influence, more control, or more ability to shape the narrative, we need to be able to see that.
Naming What Matters—With Care
At some point, the patterns need to be named, but how we name them matters. I might not say, “This is abuse.” Instead, I might say:
“I’m noticing a pattern where one of you seems to hold more weight in the conversation.”
“There are moments where it feels harder for one of you to fully express yourself.”
“I’m wondering how safe it feels to disagree here.”
This allows us to stay connected while still moving toward truth.
Holding Hope and Honesty Together
Noticing these patterns does not automatically mean the relationship is over. But it does mean something needs to change.
As a therapist, I am helping to:
reveal ruptures
bring attention to power dynamics
highlight the places where hurt is happening
And I am doing that with both honesty and sensitivity. I have to believe that there is a desire for resolution in the couple. That growth is possible. And that naming these dynamics is not about blame—it is about creating the conditions for something healthier to emerge. Because ultimately, couples therapy is not just about improving communication. It is about creating a space where both people can exist fully. Where both voices matter. Where neither person has to shrink in order for the relationship to continue.
Real connection cannot grow in a space where one person does not feel safe to be seen.
