Maybe the problem isn’t that couples aren’t working hard enough on their relationships.
Maybe the problem is that they’ve forgotten how to enjoy them.
Somewhere along the way, we started talking about relationships as something we have to work on. It’s become almost a moral obligation.
Couples are supposed to analyse their communication, process their feelings, schedule relationship check-ins, read the right books, attend the right workshops. If the relationship isn’t thriving, the assumption is that you simply haven’t done enough work.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m very much in favour of people becoming more conscious and intentional in their relationships. After more than twenty years working with individuals and couples, I know that strong relationships don’t simply happen by accident.
But I’ve also noticed something curious. When couples start thinking of their relationship primarily as something they need to work on, the relationship itself can begin to feel like… well, work. And when a relationship starts to feel like a job, it’s very difficult for it to remain a place of ease and erotic aliveness.
A healthy relationship does require attention. But attention isn’t the same thing as hard labour.
Most thriving relationships are built from very simple things done consistently over time:
Talking to each other.
Touching each other.
Sharing experiences.
Laughing together.
Making time for one another.
Sometimes there are deeper conversations that need to happen. Occasionally there are problems that need to be addressed. But most of the time, couples who stay connected over the years aren’t endlessly analysing the relationship.
They’re simply living inside it.
I was reminded of this very clearly over the weekend at one of my couples retreats. For three days we were doing what might sound like quite intensive relationship work. Couples were learning new ideas, reflecting on their patterns, having important conversations with each other.
And yet the atmosphere in the room was anything but heavy. There was laughter, warmth, affection and playfulness. People were holding hands, sitting close together, enjoying being in each other’s company.
Yes, we were paying attention to the relationship, but there was also ease and lightness in the process. Which is exactly my point.
Intentional relationships aren’t meant to feel like hard labour. They’re meant to feel like something you care for, not something you’re constantly fixing.
One of the metaphors I often use is that your relationship is like a boat that carries you through life.
It’s not simply you and me, which can too easily become you versus me. It’s you, me and us. We’re both in the boat. If the boat is good, we’re good.
When the weather is fine and the sailing is easy, life together can feel effortless. You’re enjoying the sunshine, sharing a drink on the deck, pottering about the boat together.
But when the weather turns rough, and at some point it always does, that’s when the boat really matters. If the boat isn’t shipshape, if it springs leaks or falls apart when the seas get choppy, then you may not make it safely through the storm. And if you don’t know how to sail it together, you might not even leave harbour in the first place.
To have a relationship that carries you well through life, two things matter.
First, you need to look after the boat: you maintain it, keep it strong, prioritise it.
Second, you need to know how to sail it: you learn how you each work, how to navigate challenges, how to bring yourselves back into alignment when things drift off course.
That’s not “working on the relationship” in the exhausting sense people often mean. It’s simply learning how to be good at being together.
Another metaphor I sometimes use is that a relationship is like a garden.
Gardens don’t thrive by accident. You cultivate them. You tend them. You pull out the weeds when they appear.
Sometimes a section needs to be totally replanted. At certain times of the year the garden is bursting with life and colour. At other times it’s quieter and more reflective. Both are part of the natural rhythm of things.
But the point of a garden isn’t the maintenance. The point is being in it. Sitting there with a cup of tea. Pottering around. Smelling the roses. Enjoying the beauty you’ve created together.
Relationships are much the same. Yes, they require care and attention. Yes, they benefit from skill and knowledge. But they’re not meant to feel like an endless self-improvement project. They’re meant to feel like a place you enjoy living.
When couples learn how to care for the boat and tend the garden, something interesting happens. The relationship becomes both strong and alive.
It can weather storms. It can move through seasons. And most importantly, it becomes a place where both people actually want to be.
Not because they’re constantly working on it. But because they’ve learned how to live inside it well.
And perhaps that’s the real provocation here.
Maybe the problem isn’t that couples aren’t working hard enough on their relationships.
Maybe the problem is that they’ve forgotten how to enjoy them.
You can join me in the Salon video below where I share additional reflections on this idea, including what I observed at last weekend’s couples retreat.




This really resonates with me, especially after being at your wonderful couples retreat last weekend and feeling how different it is to simply be in a relationship rather than constantly analyse it. I’m learning that shifting from “you and I” to a genuine “us” brings a steadiness and softness I’ve been missing for a long time. Letting go of the pressure to fix things and instead tending the space between us with small, consistent moments of connection feels far more alive. Thank you.