Why I Trust My Husband With Couples’ Hearts

I don’t believe my husband is an exceptional couples therapist because he has the right credentials, although he does.
I believe it because we have lived the work.

Craig and I have been together for over a decade. When we got together, we were already therapists. We understood attachment. We understood trauma. We could explain triggers, nervous systems, and healthy communication with fluency. On paper, we “knew all the things.”

And still, our relationship patterns nearly broke us.

Both of us came from difficult childhoods. The kind that shapes how non-safety is wired into the body long before language is available. When stress entered our relationship, it wasn’t thoughtful dialogue that emerged, it was limbic chaos. Escalation. Shutdown. So many helpless tears. Old patterns that felt bigger than us. There were moments when the pain between us felt so consuming that it was hard to imagine a future together.

What surprised us most was not that we struggled, but that insight alone wasn’t enough.

Knowing why something was happening did not stop it from happening. That was the most frustrating. We knew all the clinical theory and had the deepest soul kind of love for each other, but the most painful thing imaginable was thinking that it was possible we still couldn’t make it together.

What changed our relationship was committing, again and again, to sitting in the discomfort together, and most importantly guided by the right kind of help. We engaged deeply in couples work rooted in the Psychobiological Approach to Couple Therapy (PACT) and Mindfulness-Based Somatic Emotional Processing. These were not quick fixes, the therapists and mentors we had were masters in this work and were deeply caring, incredible people. It was slow, attuned work that addressed what was happening in the nervous system in the moment by people who were trained at tuning in on that kind of subtle level and had the heart to believe in us. I’ll be forever grateful to our dear mentors who guided us through that chapter of our relationship.

It took time. It took humility. It required us to stay present when every instinct wanted to defend, withdraw, or protect. And gradually, something remarkable happened.

Our patterns began to soften.

The moments that once escalated began to slow. Safety started to replace vigilance. We learned how to stay with one another when things felt charged, rather than turning away or turning against. Healing didn’t arrive as a dramatic breakthrough, it emerged quietly, through repetition, patience, and repair.

Today, I can say, without hesitation, that I have never felt more deeply seen, known, or safe with another human being. Craig is my partner, my best friend, and someone I trust with my nervous system in a way I never thought possible. Together, we have built a thriving practice. We are building a beautiful family. And we continue to choose the work, not because we are broken, but because we value what we’ve created.

This is why I believe so deeply in the couples therapy Craig offers.

Not because he promises miracles, but because he understands, at a cellular level, how change actually happens. He knows what it means to sit with intensity without trying to fix it. He knows how to track what’s happening beneath words. And he respects how much courage it takes for couples to remain present with one another when old pain gets stirred. He has cultivated over many years, a therapeutic presence palpable with strength, compassion, and undeniable hope.

The message I want couples to hear is this:

If two people are willing to show up, stay engaged, and tolerate the discomfort of growth, healing is possible. Not perfection. Not the absence of conflict. But real safety, intimacy, and resilience.

We are living proof of that.

And I wouldn’t trust anyone more with that work than the man who helped build it with me.