One of the things I hear quite often from couples is:
“We keep having the same argument.”
The subject might change. It might be housework one week, money the next, plans at the weekend, sex, parenting, being late, somebody being on their phone, or something apparently insignificant like whose turn it was to empty the dishwasher.
But somehow the argument ends up in exactly the same place.
One person feels unheard, unimportant or frustrated. The other feels criticised, overwhelmed or as though whatever they say will make things worse.
Eventually somebody withdraws, shuts down or walks away.
Nothing really gets resolved.
Then, a few days later, you do it all again.
In neurodiverse relationships this can become particularly difficult, because the couple may assume they have a communication problem when what is actually happening is more complicated.
The argument often isn't really about the argument.
When couples become caught in repeated conflict, it is easy to focus entirely on the content.
“You said you would do it.”
“No, I said I'd try.”
“You never listen to me.”
“I am listening.”
“Then why do I have to keep asking?”
And off we go.
The problem is that once a familiar conflict has started, both people are usually responding to much more than the thing being discussed.
They are also responding to what they think their partner's behaviour means.
Not answering might be experienced as you don't care.
Repeating the question might be experienced as nothing I do is ever good enough.
Wanting to resolve something immediately might mean I need to know we're OK.
Needing to stop the conversation might mean I can't think properly any more.
Those are very different experiences of the same conversation.
Neurodivergence can add another layer.
Autism and ADHD can affect communication, attention, emotional regulation, sensory processing, executive functioning and the speed at which somebody processes information.
That doesn't mean every difficulty in a neurodiverse relationship is caused by autism or ADHD. It isn't.
But it does mean that two people can experience the same interaction very differently.
One partner may need to talk something through in order to settle.
The other may need space before they are capable of talking about it properly.
One may ask more questions because they are trying to understand.
The other experiences those questions as pressure.
One becomes increasingly urgent.
The other becomes increasingly overwhelmed.
The first person notices the withdrawal and tries harder to get a response.
The second feels even more pressured and withdraws further.
Neither person necessarily intends what the other experiences.
But a cycle has started.
Pursuing and withdrawing.
This isn't unique to neurodiverse couples.
Relationship research has long recognised variations of what is often called a demand–withdraw or pursue–withdraw pattern.
One person seeks discussion, reassurance, change or resolution. The other moves away from the interaction, perhaps becoming quiet, defensive, changing the subject or physically leaving.
The important thing is that these aren't two separate behaviours.
They can feed each other.
The more one person pursues, the more the other withdraws.
The more the other withdraws, the more urgently the first pursues.
After a while each person's attempt to manage the situation becomes part of the thing that keeps it going.
That doesn't make either person the problem.
The pattern is the problem.
That distinction can be enormously important in couples therapy.
When the nervous system joins the argument.
There is another piece worth understanding.
During conflict, people can become emotionally and physiologically overwhelmed. In couples research this is sometimes described as emotional flooding.
Once somebody reaches that point, their ability to listen, process information, think flexibly and communicate clearly can reduce considerably.
Continuing the conversation harder and louder doesn't necessarily produce a better conversation.
Sometimes it simply produces more overwhelm.
For some autistic people this may also move towards shutdown, particularly where emotional pressure is combined with sensory or cognitive overload.
For somebody with ADHD, emotional dysregulation, impulsivity or sensitivity to perceived criticism or rejection may sometimes intensify the interaction.
Again, none of this means autistic people shut down or people with ADHD explode. People are considerably more complicated than their diagnosis.
It means that understanding what happens to this particular person under stress is often more useful than deciding who communicates correctly.
“But we need to sort it out”
Quite possibly.
But when you try to sort it out matters.
There is little value in insisting that a conversation must continue when one or both people are no longer capable of having it constructively.
Equally, repeatedly walking away and never returning to difficult conversations isn't a solution either.
There is an important difference between taking space in order to regulate and using withdrawal to avoid the relationship.
The first can help.
The second usually leaves the other person carrying the problem alone.
So what can couples actually do?
1. Name the pattern before trying to solve the problem.
When you recognise that familiar argument beginning, try moving your attention away from the subject for a moment.
Instead of:
“Here we go again. You never listen.”
Try noticing:
“We're doing that thing where I push for an answer and you start pulling away.”
Or:
“I think we're both getting wound up and we're not actually talking about the original problem any more.”
This sounds simple, but it changes the position you're taking.
You are no longer standing on opposite sides trying to prove who is right.
You're standing together looking at something that happens between you.
You can even work this out when you're getting on well.
Ask each other:
What do I tend to do when I feel threatened, criticised or overwhelmed?
And then:
What does that make you want to do?
You may begin to see the loop surprisingly quickly.
2. Agree how to pause — and how to come back.
If either of you becomes overwhelmed, agree that you can pause the conversation.
But make the pause clear.
“I need to stop” can easily be heard as rejection.
Try:
“I'm overloaded and I'm not going to have this conversation well right now. I need some time, but I do want to finish it. Can we come back to it at 7?”
Then come back at 7.
That's the important bit.
A pause needs enough space for the nervous system to settle, but it also needs a route back into connection.
For the person who needs space, knowing they are allowed to step away can reduce the feeling of being trapped.
For the person who needs resolution, knowing when the conversation will resume can reduce the need to chase it.
Neither person gets everything exactly when they want it.
Both people's needs are taken seriously.
Understanding the cycle changes the conversation.
Good couples work isn't about teaching one partner to communicate like the other.
And neurodiverse couples therapy certainly shouldn't be about teaching the autistic or ADHD partner how to behave more neurotypically.
It is about understanding the relationship the two of you actually have.
What happens when one of you becomes anxious?
What happens when one feels criticised?
What happens when somebody becomes overwhelmed?
What does each of you do next?
And what effect does that have on the other person?
Once a couple can recognise their cycle, something important becomes possible.
Instead of:
me versus you
it can become:
us versus this thing we keep getting caught in.
You may still disagree.
You may still occasionally have a spectacularly pointless argument about the dishwasher.
But understanding what happens between you gives you a much better chance of finding your way out of it.
Christopher Morris is an Integrative and Relational Psychotherapist working with individuals and couples in Mansfield and online. His work includes adult psychotherapy, couples therapy and neurodiverse relationships, including relationships where autism and/or ADHD are part of the couple's experience.
