Mark and Lily had been married for seven years—seven lively, busy, love-filled years that included stressful jobs, family gatherings, forgotten birthdays, weekend adventures, and the usual ups and downs every couple experiences. They cared for each other deeply, but lately they had noticed more misunderstandings than usual. Small disagreements became bigger than they needed to be, and both felt like they weren’t being heard.
So, after a long conversation one evening, they decided to meet with a marriage counselor—someone who could help them communicate better and understand each other more clearly.
Their counselor, Mr. Hall, was a calm, thoughtful man with round glasses and a habit of taking careful notes. His office was warm and welcoming, decorated with plants and shelves full of books with titles like Building Stronger Bonds and Learning to Listen.
Mark and Lily sat on the couch side by side as the session began.
“Let’s start with something simple,” Mr. Hall said gently. “Is there an issue one of you would like to bring up today?”
Mark cleared his throat. “Well… lately I feel like we don’t spend as much quality time together as we used to.”
Before he could continue, Lily jumped in—her tone sharp but emotional. “That’s not true, Mark! I really do enjoy spending time together. I always have.”
Mr. Hall raised an eyebrow, sensing that the conversation was about to take an interesting turn.
Lily continued, now addressing the counselor instead of her husband. “But what he means by ‘quality time’ is something different. This man,” she said, pointing dramatically at Mark, “expects it four or five times a day!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “I never said that many!”
Lily crossed her arms. “Maybe not in words, but in energy.”
Mr. Hall chuckled softly. “Alright, alright. Let’s slow down a bit,” he said, smiling to ease the tension. “It sounds like there may be a difference in how each of you expresses affection and how each of you receives it.”
The couple paused, thinking.
Mr. Hall continued, “Mark, you might show affection by wanting to do activities together—games, outings, projects, anything that feels like bonding. Lily, on the other hand, might need quiet moments, shared conversations, or small gestures to feel connected.”
Mark blinked. “So… we’re speaking different languages?”
“In a way, yes,” Mr. Hall nodded. “Many couples do. It doesn’t mean either of you is wrong. It just means you both need to understand each other’s style better.”
Lily relaxed a little. “I might’ve exaggerated,” she admitted.
Mark chuckled. “Maybe just a bit.”
They looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, they laughed together—really laughed. The kind of laughter that breaks tension, softens hearts, and reminds two people why they chose each other in the first place.
By the end of the session, Mr. Hall gave them simple exercises:
• Mark would give Lily more quiet moments and emotional gestures.
• Lily would plan one extra shared activity each week to meet Mark’s need for togetherness.
• And they both agreed to talk rather than assume.
Walking out of the office hand in hand, Mark said, “So… four or five times, huh?”
Lily rolled her eyes, smiling. “Don’t push it.”
They both burst into laughter again.
Because sometimes, in marriage, all it takes is a good conversation, a little humor, and the willingness to understand each other—one session, one smile, and one day at a time.