Why Telling the Truth is the Hardest—and Most Loving—Thing You Can Do in Counseling
When couples come into counseling, it’s not always because they’re ready to speak the truth. Often, it’s because the weight of not saying it has become unbearable. In her seminal book Tell Me No Lies, Dr. Ellyn Bader names something essential: we lie not just to deceive but to protect—ourselves, each other, and the fragile system we’ve built together. But over time, those protections become the very thing that keeps real intimacy out.
One of the most common dynamics that Bader identifies is what she terms “Developmental Arrest,” when one or both partners halt their individual growth to maintain peace in the relationship. These are the couples who say, “We don’t fight,” yet haven’t been emotionally honest in years. In therapy, that silence often cracks open first—not with shouting, but with one partner whispering something they’ve never voiced before.
Couples in this space are invited to tolerate the tension of truth. That means recognizing how easy it is to sugarcoat, minimize, or defer out of fear of conflict or loss. But intimacy requires more than closeness—it necessitates differentiation, the ability to stand in your truth while remaining emotionally connected. It’s not about winning or being right; it’s about being genuine without distancing yourself.
Telling the truth also means allowing your partner to have their own experience without managing it for them. When one partner shares, “I’ve felt alone in this marriage for years,” the other’s task is not to defend, fix, or counterattack. Their task is to stay present. Bader teaches that couples who can do this are practicing what she calls emotional muscle-building: staying close to pain without shutting down or lashing out.
The hard part? Most of us were never taught how to navigate this. We enter relationships with coping strategies developed in childhood—tools that helped us survive but now prevent us from being fully known. Tell Me No Lies reminds us that therapy is not just about mending what’s broken but transforming how we connect. What is true for you, once articulated, changes the atmosphere. The air becomes more breathable—even if heavier—temporarily.
Progress doesn’t always look like harmony. Sometimes, it looks like messy, raw, uncomfortable honesty. But couples who walk through that fire together often find something more profound on the other side—not just reconciliation, but revelation. Not just a return to love but a reinvention of it. “When you accept the troubles you have been given, a door opens.” —-Rumi