Ever heard the phrase, “If you really loved me, you would know what I want!” How about, “If you really loved me, we wouldn’t fight so much!” I’d be surprised if you hadn’t. Movies, friends, books, and television all send us the same message: romantic love is its own magic. When we “love” strongly enough, everything will be perfect.

Following this logic, anyone who loves baseball could play in the Major Leagues. Sort of silly, isn’t it? Outside of fairy tales, we all know that doing something well takes more than just desire – it takes skills and practice. Our culture misleads us by suggesting relationships are an exception to reality. This myth can make us overly critical of our partners or ourselves when we encounter rough patches. We may begin to wonder if we don’t love each other enough, when perhaps the only things missing are the proper perspective and techniques to work through the issue at hand.

There are quite a few skills useful for evolving a more meaningful love, but I want to focus on just one is this column, one that deals with how we resolve problems. Or, more aptly, how we fight. See if this argument pattern sounds familiar.

One person becomes the “pursuer.” The pursuer brings up problems for discussion, wants both partners to share their feelings and talk things out, and argues and asks questions to fill up silence. Out of frustration, the pursuer pushes fixes and solutions that require participation from both partners. The other partner becomes the “distancer.” Distancers would rather talk about the practical as opposed to the emotional aspects of the problem. They clam up in the face of intense emotional pressure or anxiety. They prefer resolutions that avoid further conflict and discussion.

While the pursuer/distancer roles are not always completely defined, most of us can recognize their presence in our more intense interactions. The dynamic can be likened to the relationship between a hailstorm and a turtle. As the turtle pulls into its shell, the hailstorm comes down harder to get the turtles attention. The harder the hailstorm comes down, the further into its shell the turtle retreats. Not a good situation for either partner.

The bad news is that you can’t force someone else to change – you can only change your own behavior. The good news is that usually, that’s enough. These sorts of relational patterns feed off each other. If you find that you are the hailstorm, easing up a little can encourage the turtle to stick out its head. Likewise, if you are the turtle, putting yourself out their makes the hailstorm feel like it doesn’t have to come down so hard to get your participation. When both partners are aware of the situation, there is more motivation and space to work for change. Look for what triggers your habitual reactions. Reduce the stress coming from other areas of your life. Most importantly, try to offer each other patience and forgiveness as you move towards a more skillful approach to relating.

Sometimes, our relational patterns can harden over time. Or, because of experiences from childhood and past relationships, it’s really tough to let go of old coping mechanisms. When partners run into patterns that seem overwhelming, therapy can be helpful. Therapy offers safe, guided space to develop needed skills, commitment to working on problems, and a fresh perspective.

No matter what resources you use, developing relational skills can infuse your partnership with a new sense of joy and confidence. Yes, this kind of work is hard. But it is also incredibly rewarding. Why settle for anything less than winning the World Series?