No, you didn’t misunderstand me (or if you did, please comment below and tell me what you thought I meant—maybe there’s another interpretation of the story I should know).

I recently rediscovered Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad during the story-time segment of my daughters’ bed time routine (thanks to a good friend who gave us the book as a gift). It’s a charming collection. My children love to hear them and I love to read them. The type is large and the prose is simple, so the girls can even try their hand at reading out loud. But what I love most is that each story often contains a little piece of adult wisdom, articulated in such clear and simple language that it puts most self-help books to shame (except mine of course).

In case you’re not familiar with the stories (or don’t remember), allow me to provide a little background.

Frog and Toad are “friends.” (I say “friends” because they spend just about every waking moment together, share their deepest hopes and dreams, and plan the intimate details of the lives around each other. If you’d like to read this as an allegory for a same sex romantic relationship, feel free. I’m sure it’s been done, and you won’t find much in the series to contradict the interpretation.) Regardless of its eponymous couple’s relationship status, the Frog and Toad series is teeming with insights into the human condition.

Each story recounts an important lesson or adventure in Frog and Toad’s shared journey, and in one of my favorites, Toad bakes the most amazing batch of cookies he’s ever made (apparently the most amazing anyone’s ever made.). Generously, he offers to share them with Frog, who immediately begins gobbling them up as quickly as his friend.

(Later, having become bored with the snack food industry, they move onto churning hedge funds, which earns Frog a brief stint in a medium security prison.

Kidding.)

They soon realize it’s not so easy to stop eating the most amazing cookies either of them has ever tasted, so they go through a series of attempts to control their cookie binge.

First, they vow not to eat them—a strategy which fails miserably. Next, Frog explains that what they really need is willpower. But then he does something interesting: rather than keeping the cookies on the table in front of them, he places more and more barriers in the way. He puts them in a box, which Toad correctly points out can easily be opened. He ties a string around the box, a strategy which, as Toad notes, suffers from the same fatal flaw—and on and on, until Frog, apparently convinced that the whole willpower thing isn’t working at all, unceremoniously carts the cookies outside and yells to some birds, “Hey birds, here are some cookies!” The birds then eat them.

Problem solved. No more temptation.

Beyond the Myth of Willpower: On Cookies and Fidelity

Like Frog and Toad, when it comes to temptation—the temptation of affairs, in particular—we put far too much stock in willpower. If you want to control yourself, relying on “willpower” merely leads to moments where you’re sitting with a pile of cookies in front of you trying not to eat them. Frog solved the problem of temptation by removing it altogether. That’s the real key to his success.

“Willpower,” Frog tells us, “is the act of trying really hard not to do something that you really want to do”—as good a definition as any. Notice, the emphasis, here, is on impulse control: successfully avoiding temptation through sheer force of will. This notion of willpower contains no implication of self-reflection, planning, or self-awareness beyond acknowledging the strength of your desire and making a commitment to resist it. In contrast, Frog’s success teaches us that sometimes the best approach to temptation involves being proactive, not sitting around hoping to develop perfect self-control.

Feeling an attraction? Use your appetite and fantasies as a cue to remove temptation.  If they’re becoming stronger, you may not be able to box your desire up or send it away, but you certainly don’t have to be taken in by some outmoded (and vaguely puritanical) notion of self-control. Successful treatment programs for impulses as powerful as substance abuse, sex addiction, and eating disorders all tend to have one thing in common: a clear plan.

Make sure you have one, too.

You can’t act on feelings if you’re not around someone. At the first signs of attraction, keep an eye on the boundaries—and create some distance.

This is simple advice, but surprisingly difficult to follow when you fall into the whole “I just need willpower” way of thinking.  Quiet moments at coffee, leisurely lunch break strolls, funny little updates and text messages—I’ve see all these behaviors from people attempting to exercise “willpower.” All these situations merely strengthen feelings of attraction (recall the power of proximity in the attraction research?). But the people describing them all felt the same way: when they finally gave into their impulses, they were convinced they’d simply been too weak to resist their feelings.

From my point of view, the problem lay less in their will than in their actions. By telling themselves all they needed was self-control they’d convinced themselves “it’s just lunch; I can handle a drink; I’m just driving her to work.” Where’s the harm in a little friendly conversation, after all, when you have willpower?  Unfortunately, by sticking with this logic, each of these people had essentially plopped themselves down at a table stacked to the ceiling with the most delicious cookies they’d ever seen and tried to sit on their hands to keep from grabbing one.

Ask yourself, do you really need to spend more time with this person? Are you meeting him or her for drinks because you trust your willpower to protect you?

Remember Frog’s lesson: The less opportunity you have, the less need you’ll have for any kind of willpower at all.

Also, birds really like cookies.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail. You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops designed to help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

Actually, the precise quote is, “Never answer the question that is asked of you. Answer the question that you wish had been asked of you.”

I should add that this curious tip comes, of all places, straight from the mouth of the controversial, former Secretary of Defense, Robert Strange McNamara (yup, that’s his real middle name).

(Hey, if I can draw inspiration from a crack dealer, how hard is it to believe I’d hear romantic wisdom in the words of a politician?)

In the fascinating Errol Morris documentary, The Fog of War, the unseen interviewer discusses the whole challenge of speaking to the press about the war (and other matters), and McNamara shares the above words of wisdom.

It’s a powerful moment in the movie; as a viewer, piecing together how McNamara made sense of Vietnam and his own choices, I couldn’t help feeling I’d been made privy to the inner workings of a singularly tortured and complex mind. All at once, he’d recast deception as compassion: these weren’t lies; he’d done the world a favor—protecting the innocent, in America and around the world, from a reality they could never hope to grasp. His guidance comes across as more than a little paternalistic and self-serving (still, if press conferences over the last few decades are any indication, it’s safe to say that most public figures have taken his advice and run with it).

My next thoughts, strangely enough, had less to do with politics than with relationships.

The Therapist Who Didn’t Ask Questions

I suddenly recalled a moment, years earlier, when I’d just come home from work—frazzled, hungry, and thoroughly disheveled–after dashing from one site to another all day long just to stay on schedule.

At the time, I’d been pulling 80+ hours of double clinical duties, navigating confusing and occasionally arbitrary health care systems. Half the time I could barely catch my breath. On more than one occasion, I’d completely missed lunch. Each day I’d hunker down and channel all my energies towards understanding my client’s stories, and most of the time, by listening intently enough, I actually understood quite a bit.  Unfortunately, at the end of the day, my listening skills were about tapped out. By the time I arrived home, full up with the pressures and pitfalls of the day, it was all I could do to get out a “How was your day?” before spilling. I knew enough to ask—but if anyone, including my girlfriend, Jenn, ceded the floor, I happily rushed in to fill the empty space.

A month or so into this, Jenn and I adopted a bit of a routine. I’d ask, “How was your day?” Jenn would stop what she was doing, pause,  say, “fine, how was yours”—and then I’d take over.  It went on this way for a while—me asking, her offering a brief answer, my taking over—until one day, after realizing just how much space I’d taken up, Jenn got upset—really upset. It seems she’d had a lot more to say, and I hadn’t asked about a thing.

I had to agree. I felt terrible about the pattern we’d fallen into, especially about how I’d participated. In the end, we made a change, but it wasn’t just through my asking questions.

Like McNamara, Jenn had to learn to answer the question she wished she’d been asked.

“Strange” Therapy

We can’t always count on others—even those closest to us—to ask the right questions. First of all, they may not even know what the right questions are. (Clearly, I’d need to know a lot more if I wanted to ask informed questions about Jenn’s experience.)  Besides the whole thorny problem of figuring out “the right question,” what if your partner or date asks the “wrong” question?  Does that mean you can’t share what you had in mind? If you never hear a question beyond ‘how are you?’, do you remain silent?

I began to view “the questions we’re asked” as a powerful metaphor for behaviors—individual steps in each intimate dance. If you lead, by picking where we eat, do I always have to follow, by saying yes? If you start out angry, do I have to get angry in response? If you spill about your day, do I have to wait to share what I wanted?

Each of us can end up feeling forced by “the questions we’re asked” to sacrifice our own plans and stories. But we don’t have to. The more I thought about McNamara’s words, the clearer it became to me: there’s good in his advice, too. Regardless of what you’re asked, or how people act, you can, if you choose, try to create the experience you want.

If, out of anxiety, I felt pressured to share what I’d built up throughout the day, nothing stopped Jenn from interrupting. Granted, I needed to work on making a more inviting space for her to share—and, once she brought it to my attention, I did just that. But Jenn also had to become more comfortable sharing important experiences whether asked directly or not. Being happy in our relationship didn’t rest on the right interview technique; it all came down to my response when Jenn shared more. Would I support it and listen? Or would I push back or try to take over again?

We all have a story to share, unique to our experience, emblematic of our point of view—our personal stamp, if you will. McNamara shared what he wanted to be known.  That’s politics. But we can all share how we want to be known. That’s intimacy.

In dating, you seldom have the luxury of “the conversation.” If there’s something you really want your dates to hear about you, or an experience you’ve had, it’s often worth testing out how they respond when you simply share. Questions can be learned over time. Interest can’t.

As a therapist, I witness the negotiation of space every day—between partners, dates, friends. In the midst of all these struggles for space, I’ve often shared the message inspired by McNamara’s words. If you want to change your experience, you don’t need permission, and you don’t have to talk about “the problem.” You can also simply initiate the experience you want. You can share the story you’d planned to share; suggest the restaurant you wanted to go to; answer the question you wish you’d be asked. What you’re really looking for is a loving response when you show who you are.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

I’m speaking of the recalcitrant belief that the perfect partner will look past your given, “superficial” choices and see what a great catch you are. It goes something like this: When you really meet “the one,” they’ll lock eyes with you, ignore the alfredo sauce drooling down your face—and the fact that you’re eating salsa with your hands—and fall deeply, madly in love.

One version of this troublesome idea—a corollary of “it’s what’s on the inside that really matters” –might even land you a drug-dealer if you’re not careful. (If you’re looking to find a drug dealer, you’ll probably find this next story especially useful. Just ignore all the parts that seem cautionary in any way.)

Once, when I was 19, my mother and I visited New York together. I took her to all my favorite sites—a cheap, tasty, hot dog stand just off the Lexington line, a fantastic Northern Italian restaurant that I could afford now my mother was buying, and, last but not least, glorious Washington Square Park.

To truly appreciate this choice, you’ll need a few more details. First, at the time, Washington Square Park was a bit of a dicey area. Maybe it’s worse now; maybe it’s better. I haven’t visited in a while, so I’m not sure. At any rate, the first thing you should be asking yourself is, Why was I walking my mother through Washington Square Park? But if we’re playing what’s wrong with this picture, my notion of “interesting-sites-to-take-your-mother-to” might have been the least of my worries.

There was also the problem of how I dressed.

How Mom Met the Crack Dealers

At the time, I had absolutely no fashion sense (note to friends: I’m fully prepared for obvious cracks about how that hasn’t changed much).  In all fairness to the fashion-clueless everywhere, though, I have to admit, this way of describing my problem might be far too generous.

When I say I had no sense, you’re probably picturing mismatched colors or highwaters or some such egregious fashion choice. Nope—my condition was far worse.  Somewhere along the line, I’d proudly owned my lack of insight into color or style and now, at the age of 19—especially in the summer, when I also sported a Tom Selleck mustache—I wore it like a badge.

My deficit would become my strength (or so I’d convinced myself). There weren’t enough colors in the world, so “jewel tones,” as I called them, would be a standard feature in my closets— bright turquoise tank-tops with purple Moroccan balloon pants, more linen clothes than any man or woman should own, shiny gold and silver chains galore—and on this particular day, accompanying my mother through the seediest corners of Washington Square, I sported my favorite crushed linen, purple Liz Claiborne suite and jaunty black fedora. What a wonderful afternoon for a walk in the park: crisp azure sky, resplendent summer sun, and… oh yeah, eager crack dealers at every turn.

Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed them at all but, me, I brought them out of the woodwork.

The first guy was subtle, tagging along behind us, winking at me now and then in a way that seemed both practiced and creepy. Finally, he approached me from the side, a paper bag in one hand, and strangely, a pen in the other (for bookkeeping?). “You want something?”

“Uh, no thank you.” I shrugged. My mother scowled, then glanced at me, confused.

Moments later, the next approach—a tall thin, pale looking man, in a dirty black suit.

“Smoke?” He asked

“Uh. We’re fine, thanks.” Now my mother looked worried, and we both walked a little faster.

We hadn’t quite made it to the street yet—I could see our exit, just ahead—when another dealer made his approach. This third and final man—short, stocky, wearing a track suit—was by far the boldest. “Want to buy some crack?” He seemed to have bellowed it.

“No!” I yelled, alarmed and flabbergasted that he’d have the audacity to ask with my mother standing right next to me.

What he said next rang in my ears for months.

“Well then what the fuck you doing dressed like that walking through Washington Square Park?”

What I Learned about Romance from a Drug Dealer

WTF? Yes, good question.

Until that moment, it isn’t one I’d asked myself. In my mind, everyone should have understood my choice as creative expression, my daring mission to paint the world, one cheesy linen suit at a time, in bright bold colors. In truth, I’d had plenty of feedback from friends about the message I might be sending: “Dude, people aren’t always gonna get it—girls won’t for sure.” (It was the 80’s, and people said ‘dude’ and ‘for sure’ a lot). Without realizing it, though, I’d dismissed all that and made a stubborn choice. People would get to know the real me. Clothes are just clothes. What does it matter? It’s what’s on the inside that counts.

Maybe. But no one has access to our intentions—just the outward choice. If you’ve had feedback that you’re sending a message that might attract the wrong type because of how you dress, how you talk, where you spend your time, pay close attention. It’s your choice, in the end, to cling to the belief that people should simply see past your outward choice to who you are, but realize that every choice has a specific meaning in your culture—and by making that choice you’re choosing the impact you have, especially during the often blink-of-an-eye decision-making world of attraction. You’re choosing your experience. You’re choosing who finds you attractive.

In my own life, I’d also fallen for a common trap: I’d made a false distinction between inside and outside.

In reality, my outward choice said a lot more about what lay inside me than I’d ever realized. On the surface, I told myself the choice remained all about quirky clothes and unique color choice, but I’d also had more than a few hints that my clothes had some specific, established meanings I’d simply chosen to ignore: more than once, people had been confused about my sexual orientation. This, too, I simply dismissed as their problem—poor, confused souls who’d conflated gender role-expectations with sexual orientation (granted, some girls might have thought I was gay, but any gay man could tell you they wouldn’t have been caught dead in half the stuff I wore). I dismissed the evidence of my experience and, in doing so, I sacrificed control over who was attracted to me—in and out of Washington Square.

What I said with my choice was simple: I don’t care. I don’t care what this means to you. So when women were confused, they were right to see it as reflective of my inner life. I didn’t care–at least, not at the time. Call it a preemptive romantic strike: I’m afraid you won’t find me attractive, so I’ll act like that doesn’t matter to me. Worked wonders in my dating life.

Only later, after reflecting on my experience in Washington Square for a very long time, did I realize my mistake: by ignoring who my choices attracted, I also chose to hide behind a kind of passivity. I was in charge of the whole experience, as surely as if I’d politely asked the drug dealers to approach me: “Excuse me sir? Do you by chance have any crack today?” I’d just done it all with my clothes. What other experiences had I pretended not to be in charge of so I wouldn’t have to change them? How else had I passively controlled my romantic life with my choices?

Remember how crucial proximity is in attraction research. What impact do you think it has on your romantic life if your outward choices bring some people close (and send others away)? How do you think that affects who you’ll end up with?

For my part, I retired most of the jewel tones, along with the Liz Claiborne suit. Who was I to ignore the wisdom of a crack dealer?

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

I realize that all these images convey a certain (perhaps uncharacteristic) amount of reverence. I’m surprised as I write them. Still, a little reverence might be in order. Whatever we might think of the spiritual themes that moved Michelangelo, there’s no doubt that he was on to something. Every day, more and more research confirms the power of touch; and while it may not bring or take life, it’s certainly the conduit for something powerful.

Let’s take a brief tour of the research findings. Merely touching someone—even a stranger—can increase the chances that they’ll help you when asked. A light touch on the upper arm or shoulder—one of the most common touches in research—is linked with increased persuasion, agreement, and liking. More importantly, touching between partners releases oxytocin, a neurotransmitter (brain chemical and hormone) associated with feelings of trust and relaxation. Every time you and a loved one hold hands or hug–every time you kiss, or cuddle, or snuggle on the couch–oxytocin spills into your nervous system, making you feel calmer, less anxious, more at peace. In short, your world changes.

How about that. Touch can change your world.

Next time you’re feeling tense with your partner, instead of marshalling evidence for why you’re right and s/he’s wrong, why not try to make a little contact? Hold hands. Or better yet—if you can bring yourself to—try a hug. We all know a hug can soften the hardest angry edge. Now we know why. We’re built to deescalate arguments with a simple touch.

Don’t get carried away, though. You still might have a lot of work to do. A hug can’t make all your problems go away—you might even have good reason to be angry—but it can reduce your rage (and stress), and even help you put things in perspective.

So remember all those amazing images. Just don’t paint them on your ceiling. Someone already did that.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

I could probably launch a whole blog devoted to this topic,  but in the mean time, here’s something to kick things off.

1) Jump at chances to be with each other. When your schedule becomes squeezed by parenting demands, a carpe diem mentality can add a playfulness and excitement to intimate life that you weren’t challenged to try out before kids.

2) Take a good hard look at yourself. Could you learn to be more flexible? Or a better listener? If you’re open to learning new behaviors and attitudes, your kids will benefit—and so will your partner.

3) Embrace the changes brought by kids. I learned to start viewing “going to the beach” as “going to the beach with kids”—a slower, more meandering version of my kid-free beach days, but one that involved lots of games and breaks from packing. My wife and I both benefited by giving up our attachment to the old version. If you fight the change, you can count on tension with your partner. If you embrace it, you can start seeing things in a whole new way.

4) Use quiet times with kids as a chance to bond. Few moments provide the depth of satisfaction and emotional bonding of lying together, soaking up the bliss of a sweet, family moment. Sit close to you partner. Touch each other when you have the chance.  This is family intimacy. It can only add to your relationship.

5) Celebrate when the day is over. My wife and I started a ritual of toasting at the end of the day: ‘We made it,’ we’d say; ‘the kids are alive and asleep. Ahhhh. We’d share the highs and lows. Parenting is a shared adventure, full of self-discovery and rich rewards. If you don’t take the time to talk about it, you’re nurturing distance and missing out—and then you end up as a statistic in a study.

Are you one of the couples who grew closer after kids? Let me know. Better yet, add to this list by sharing your own experience in the comments.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

The news for couples with kids is generally pretty bleak. We’re inundated by messages that children can be the death of a good relationship. That’s bad enough. But what’s even more troubling is that the reasons cited often ring true.

Kids invade your bedroom.  They rule your schedule. They dictate where you go and how you spend your time. They spark squabbles over matters as trivial as where to put all the stuffed animals or which living-room arrangement will lead to the fewest head injuries (the correct answer, by the way, is to remove all the furniture and sit on bean bags). Despite all this, I have one simple message to share: Kids don’t kill marriages; adults do.

I say this knowing full well that tomorrow, yet another study will probably be published suggesting that that kids decrease marital satisfaction.

I’ve read all the research. I know it looks grim, but to my mind, we’re all far too ready to accept this conclusion. Some of these early studies were riddled with problems, including small absolute changes in satisfaction (say, 2 points out of 50), vagaries in the measurement of “satisfaction,” and finally, over-sized graphs that seemed designed to exaggerate the point. Sadly, all those flaws didn’t stop the press—or the public—from eagerly embracing the conclusion that having kids ranks right up there with STD’s when it comes to maintaining a happy marriage.

In reality, each of these studies also suffers from the fatal flaw of all field research: correlation is not the same as causation.

Simply put, marital satisfaction may well drop as much as 50-90% after having kids, but even that stark, downward trend can never be conclusively linked to having kids, alone. It’s always possible that having children is correlated with some third (or fourth or fifth) variable that deals that fatal blow to a marriage. No amount of statistical wizardry can ever eliminate this problem; it’s the inevitable down-side of field research.

Marriage vs Kids: Round Two

Admittedly, recent studies have far fewer flaws, but there’s one that the authors still haven’t managed to eliminate: some couples become happier once they have children, and, to date, they haven’t received nearly enough attention. Maybe it’s time we studied them.

Given the much cited 50% divorce rate, and the strong correlation between a couple’s adjustment and satisfaction before and after kids, we could just as easily look at the data and reach a different conclusion altogether: Many couples aren’t very good at building and maintaining a relationship, and maybe kids just speed an already doomed couple towards marital demise. The stresses of every day life place an enormous strain on even the best equipped couples’ capacity to cope. Adding childcare to the list of duties is bound to strain them even further.  In my own practice, those who weather the kid-storm tend to differ from those who are swept away in one important respect:  the couples who seem happiest after children have worked hard to improve themselves.

What Melvin Udall Teaches us about Kids

So here’s my whole new spin on the bad rep kids have in marital satisfaction studies. In the movie As Good as it Gets, Jack Nicholson, as the caustic Melvin Udall, complements his love interest with the following proclamation: “You make me want to be a better man.” Allow me to paraphrase Mr. Udall:  Kids can make us want to be better people.

Many of my clients have embraced parenthood as an opportunity to grow. Determined to avoid the mistakes of their own parents, they examine themselves with renewed vigor: how can I learn to handle anger better before my child is born? Maybe I should look more closely at my anxiety now. Can you recommend any good parenting books?

Not surprisingly, in my own practice, these are precisely the people whose marriage seems to improve after kids. Everyone—especially our partner—is bound to benefit from our quest to be a better person. Sadly,  most troubled couples never get to explore this kind of thinking. Their head is too crowded with messages that their marriage pitched off a cliff as soon as they left the delivery room.

One reason I think we’re so quick to accept the gloomy outlook in the research is that we already believe kids kill marriage. (Strangely, this idea seems to comfortably coexist with the myth that having kids can bring a couple closer. I’ll have more to say about that later.)  Before having kids, we live with the terror of lost freedom—by which we usually mean the freedom to stay up late watching movies or escape for a weekend without having to give any notice. Never mind the fact that very few couples actually have time to exercise these freedoms before having kids. Somehow children get blamed for the lack of spontaneity that wasn’t even there to begin with.  As parents, we’re all too quick to project our dissatisfaction onto the experience of raising kids. We start asking little of life (often well before kids come along), and then feel deeply disappointed that life hasn’t got as much to offer. The few couples who get it right end up as the exceptions to the rule—glossed over by science, and regarded by the rest of us with the same mixture of suspicion and fear we feel when we spot the neighbor who always seems to have a smile plastered across her face.

Come back next Thursday. In next week’s post, I’ll be offering tips for how you can not only manage the stresses of raising children, but actively work on improving your relationship.  Rather than resigning yourself to the dissatisfaction predicted in the longitudinal studies, you could, like some I’ve people seen over the years, decide to embrace children as an opportunity for self-growth. You could use building a family as a chance to feel closer.

Imagine that. The headline you never thought you’d never see.

P.S. In the mean time, if you’d like to read more, along with some tips for keeping your marriage alive after kids, check out When Baby Makes 3 and Sex After Baby: How to Get Your Groove Back. Both articles have some great perspectives and tips.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops designed to help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it— the pros and the cons: Loves eggplant and Joss Whedon—check. Good communicator—check. Organizational skills of a three-year-old with Attention Deficit Disorder—mostly minus (in fairness, the initial glow of infatuation might be raising your threshold for chaos a bit).

Or maybe you’ve spent a lot of time not thinking about it (another common strategy): I really need to do some soul-searching about this next step in our relationship…hmmm . Ooh look! Monkeys playing polo on Discovery!

Either way, the big move means big changes. So here are eight tips to keep in mind before you start looking for cute little apartments in the hip, new NoSo District (I made it up, but there’s probably one somewhere)

1) Consider how much you’re willing to pay for a live-in partner. If you think you’ll feel resentful picking up your partner’s financial slack, then don’t choose a place beyond their means. If you truly want to live together and you want a nice place, then realize you’re choosing to subsidize your partner so you can have both. That’s your choice—and you don’t have to make it.

2) Openly assess the choice. If your partner insists on paying more than you can afford, then say, “OK, but let’s agree, right now, that if you start feeling resentful about money, we’ll know it’s not working.” This reminds your partner that s/he can’t offer to pay and feel resentful. In fact, you’ve now agreed that any financial resentment means you should consider a new arrangement altogether—either separate places or one you can both afford.

3) Run trials. If possible, plan to spend at least a month in each other’s place. Your habits will vary, depending on how much you feel like you’re in your own space. Trials give you a chance to see how each of you truly lives—when you’re feeling at home and when you’re not (and you’re likely to feel a mix of both at first).

4) Pick your battles. Living with a partner involves negotiation, but it shouldn’t be constant. If little, low-impact quirks (cap on the tooth paste, anyone?) are getting on your nerves, consider solutions that don’t depend on your partner changing (you can buy a tube with the cap attached now). Bear in mind, you probably have a thousand quirks of your own that your partner may have to adjust to, so don’t ask for changes unless your prepared to work on some yourself.

5) Have the hard conversations—now. If you have concerns about cleanliness, chores, general upkeep, or even who’s welcome when you’re not there, you’d better talk now. If you’re afraid this will create tension, then think twice about living together. You’ll have to face the problems sooner or later, whether you talk about them or not, so if they’re a deal-breaker, your silence won’t save the relationship.

6) Name your contribution. When it comes to chores, we’re often blind to what others do and acutely aware of our own contribution. To make matters worse, some chores are less visible than others (dusting and vacuuming sometimes go unnoticed.) So decide what you want to do and state out loud or record on paper what you’ve done. If one of you prioritizes less visible chores, then at least they won’t go unnoticed.

7) Stake a claim. If you’re moving into your partner’s place, think about (and then discuss) how you might put your own, personal stamp on the place—some new items, some decoration, a desk, etc.  If you encounter resistance, pay close attention: how is this going to be a shared space if you can’t bring something of yourself to it?

Maintain your independence. Moving in shouldn’t mean you stop living independently. Lose what you enjoy, and you lose yourself. Separate experiences and friendships are what make you unique, so keep them in your life after the move.

WordPress appears to want this last, eighth point to be introduced by the sun wearing shades (something about how “8)” is being translated in the post). After some tinkering to get rid of it,  I’ve decided I kind of like the mistake. Sun with shades it is.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

OK, so this one does require a few words, but not many. For some reason, the last few posts generated curiosity about how to preserve harmony when you just want to say no. It’s true—being able to say no is an important relationship skill, in and of itself, so here are some quick thoughts.

Many people confuse assertiveness with rudeness. Don’t make the same mistake. If you’re looking to become more assertive, and want to start saying no, you’ll want to keep a few things in mind:

1) Use “no” as a last resort. A lot of books recommend learning to say no. It’s far more important to learn to say, “I’d like to think about it.” It’s rare that someone needs an answer right away (how many emergency yes or no questions are there?), so you have a right to think about what works best for you. Exercise that right. If pressed you can always say, “if you need an answer now, then I have to say no, because I’d rather not commit if I’m not sure.”

2) Say no graciously. If you’re feeling truly empowered, you don’t need to shoot people down to take care of yourself. If no is the answer, you can always say, “I really wish I could, but I can’t.”

3) Start with what you can do, not what you can’t. It softens the blow of an outright no to lead off with something you’re able to say yes to. So think about what you are willing to agree to and offer that first: “I can help you with unpacking next weekend. I just wouldn’t be able to help you move tomorrow. “

4) Watch out for “Why nots?” Your no should be sufficient, and someone who presses for more is really being rude. Prepare ahead of time to say something like, “I just can’t do it.” Even if it’s because you have a massage appointment, if you’re taking your own needs and self-care seriously, that really means you can’t. You shouldn’t have to explain why.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail.You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.

(From this point forward, all my tips will be numbered. I’ll share them in no particular order. I’m reasonably certain I have about 10,000 floating around in my head—give or take 9,900 or so—but I’ve noticed it lends far more credibility to a post or article to start somewhere in the vicinity of the 700’s.)

I promise to post my take on assertiveness language (and even an easy formula for remembering it), but there’s something you need to know first: “I” statements have their limits.

No matter how nicely you say you feel hurt or upset by something your partner did, even gently phrased negative feedback can be hard to hear.  Harder still is hearing a laundry list of what you’ve done wrong.  When resentment builds to the point that  you face a litany of complaints—or find yourself firing off a list of your own—sometimes discussing what’s wrong just makes things worse. The main problem: you’ll have a harder time seeing what’s right—and then you really miss an opportunity to make things better.

Catch the Good (Don’t Chase the Bad)

Nick and Kim, co-owners of a successful pizza parlor, had both learned the art of assertiveness language. Kim, in her 30’s, came from a highly educated, old money New England family, firmly rooted in their ways through years of success and fortune. Nick’s family had been less fortunate. His father worked odd jobs; his mother worked part time. Every day was a struggle, and one of Nick’s most vivid memories involved helping both his parents get pumped up for their new job interviews—picking the very best clothes, rehearsing every possible answer—all in the same, whirlwind afternoon. He felt proud of his cheerleading efforts—and with good reason: they usually worked. In contrast, Kim, like her family, remained firmly convinced that hard work should be it’s own reward. Praise never came easily to her. She was a grudging recipient, and rarely, if ever, offered it to others.

Which is why Nick, despite all Kim’s efforts at making clear requests, had barely changed at all.

Kim sat in our meeting, steely-eyed and perplexed, waiting for Nick to explain why he kept forgetting to ask how her day had been. “I feel hurt when I’m not asked how things went at the end of a long day. I need you to ask me without my always having to prompt you.”

Nick looked sad for a moment: “I just never feel like I’ve done a good enough job.”

I took this as sign. “Kim?” I said quietly, attempting to model a softer challenge. “How often do you point out when Nick does ask?”

“Why should I have to?”

“You don’t,” I agreed. “Unless you actually want him ask you more often.”

Kim had used by the book assertiveness—and admirably so. Unfortunately, Nick needed to hear about more than just his missteps. He also needed to hear when he’d gotten it right.

When Good Feedback Goes Bad

Negative feedback (hearing when we’ve done something wrong) is rarely easy. It triggers all kinds of unpleasant feelings: shame, guilt, anxiety—to name just a few. We feel caught when we hear it. We feel called out. In short, we feel punished.

Worse still, criticism, however softly delivered, often becomes punishment in the guise of effective communication.  Notice Kim’s use of “always”—a logical impossibility (I’d even seen Nick ask her about her day in session, without my prompting). Rattling off all Nick’s failures served as punishment for some earlier slight Kim considered far too petty to mention. Instead of asking for something she didn’t feel entitled to get, she focused on Nick’s failure to provide something she did—and, as result, she hardly ever got what she really wanted.

The problem is research already shows that punishment is a terrible way to change behavior. It’s not just that it doesn’t work (it’s best for stopping unwanted behavior, not encouraging new ones). It sometimes makes things worse. If people feel the punishment doesn’t fit the crime, they become resentful—and less likely to give you want you want.  Nick never felt good getting it right. He just felt bad getting it wrong.

My first job involved helping Kim feel authorized to ask for things Nick couldn’t possibly guess she wanted (and she, herself, deemed too childish to expect), but my second, more important one turned out to be as challenging as it was simple: I had to teach her to reinforce Nick when he got it right.

Change Your Partner, One Success at a Time

While it’s true that people rarely change unless they want to, it’s also true that everyone likes to feel good.  That simple fact equips us all with the most powerful relationship-improvement tool available: positive reinforcement.

Positive reinforcement, in which a given behavior is followed immediately by a reward, is one of the most effective ways to change behavior. It works without words. It works with or without your knowledge. It even works on psychologists! (so if you like this post send plenty of compliments)

Kim started having great conversations with Nick about her day because she eventually took my lesson to heart. She kissed him, held his hand, or gave him a big hug whenever he said, “So how’d it go today?” She stopped commenting at all when he forgot, instead glancing at a notebook I encouraged her to keep that marked all the days he’d remembered to ask (as a side note, I also encouraged her to share whether she’d been asked or not—more on that in another post). Seeing the good outweigh the bad softened the blow a little—and the space it provided gave Nick, himself, time to catch the oversight. More often than not, after Kim let a few beats go by, Nick brought it up anyway: “I’m sorry,” he’d say. “I haven’t asked you how things went for you. How’d it go?”

Want to see your partner shine? Pour on the attention and praise when he or she gets it right: I love it when you… (hold my hand, ask me about my day, take out the trash, kiss me when I get it right, etc). Better yet, silently offer a hug or kiss right after each success. Remember: you don’t need to say a thing for reinforcement to work its magic.

You’ll find you get what you want far more frequently over time than you ever did with complaints.

Note: although the situation I’ve described is extremely common, the couple described is a composite—a blend of many people and problems to illustrate my point. All identifying information has been disguised and/or altered.

If you found this helpful, feel free to sign up for the monthly tips and updates e-mail. You’ll immediately receive three more research-backed tips, as well as the latest updates on Dr. Malkin’s book about controlling attraction. You’ll also receive a first look at free teleseminars and workshops that’ll help you avoid making the same dating mistakes again and again.