Sometimes, relationship problems fly under the radar, but other times we deliberately look the other way. Here, we’re breaking down why we do this and explore what happens when we face tension head-on

As well as traumatic things that happen to you – like physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, or the betrayal of your trust via an affair – trauma in relationships also includes what isn’t happening, and examples include a lack of attunement, emotional unavailability in the other person, and no safe container for your emotions and experiences. Sometimes they go unnoticed, sometimes they are ignored.

You might be familiar with tolerating, even denying, some degree of trauma so that your relationship can continue as it is. For example, it may have become characterised more by criticism, complaint, and resentment than the love you want, but you shield yourself from what’s really going on, or just ‘get on with it’. Which begs the question…

Why do we do this?

An answer might be found in each of three important parts of you:

1. Fear

When you attach to someone, this part can get triggered at the thought of the relationship ending. Because your fear ensures your survival, it can make a potential ending feel like a life or death situation. If your body believes your survival is at risk by moving on to an uncertain future, it’s easy to understand why you’ll tolerate distress to avoid it. That said, the longer you stay, the more fearful you become, the more your trust and self-esteem drain away, and the tighter you grip the relationship. You’re caught in a vicious circle.

2. Reward

This includes your innate drives to acquire more possessions, status, money, sex, and to ‘win’. These are powerful motivators, and some of the main reasons humans have been in existence for so long. Reward can make status, wealth, a great sex life, and a need not to ‘lose’, ‘fail’ or look ‘less than’ others, compelling reasons to stay – despite you rarely actually feeling good.

3. Connection and love

Love is presumably where you’d hope to spend most of your time in a relationship, but, an ending – whether of the relationship or your trauma denial – might lead to you experiencing grief; love with nowhere to go. Grief is one of the most painful feelings and it’s understandable that we, therefore, try to avoid feeling it. You’ll of course be driven to accept, forgive, and empathise with and be selfless when you love someone. These are all great, loving qualities.

Taken too far though, they’ll overlook and accept problems and put empathy for the other person above empathy for yourself. Knowing your loved one has such potential for growth also leads to living in hope that they might eventually see and hear you one day, even without any real evidence it’s happening.

With such a range of compelling parts in play, you can understand why you might endure, or deny, relationship trauma. A compassionate view of yourself is key here, because any frustration, or shame, you feel towards yourself for doing it simply leads to more fear and therefore more rigidity, making you cling even tighter.

Try to couple this empathetic understanding with a

Could scheduling sex be the key to preserving intimacy in long-term relationships?

I reach my hand across the kitchen island for the serving spoon, my husband’s eyes tracking each deliberate movement as I gingerly place my second serving of turkey bolognese on my plate.

“Don’t get sick, baby,” he says tentatively, as I savour the full flavour of carrot and thyme melting in my mouth, and put my fork down.

I know what he means. My husband is not a jerk. He is not worried I will get fat. He is worried that these extra few bites will lead to me feeling bloated and full, which will in turn result in me explaining to him, “I don’t feel pretty tonight,” when he reaches for me under the covers as we settle into bed.

I met him when I was 42. Eight years younger than me, he often gets mistaken for any number of Hollywood movie stars – think Bradley Cooper or a young Hugh Grant. But, despite this, I have rarely been in the mood for having sex since I hit middle age.

In my early 50s, I first chalked up my declining libido to needing more of an emotional connection before intimacy. We tried sharing compliments with each other before hitting the pillow, and finding time for walk-and-talks during the day so we could discuss the ups and downs of our lives. And while I felt appreciated and connected, it did nothing to rouse my lust.

Then came menopause. I took supplements I saw advertised online, supposedly designed to provide hormone-free support to enhance libido. Nothing happened. I ultimately got on hormone replacement therapy, and while my night sweats stopped, my desire for sex continued to stay muted.

On a long walk one day through the desert landscape with one of my besties, I confessed my situation. “We aren’t unhappy,” I said. “Despite the usual bickering and what my therapist friend calls ‘normal marital hatred’. I love spending time with him, so why my case of the blahs?”

Could it be that even though I am a relationship and life coach, an issue I thought I had conquered through a support group, years of therapy, and a seven-day personal development retreat was still wreaking havoc with my self-esteem? Did I really think that my innate worthiness was directly tied to how I sexually satisfied my husband? Did that make me a ‘good wife’? Or even a ‘good woman’?

I thought hard, trying to remember the last time I had felt genuine sexual arousal. It was many months before, at the Watershed Music Festival my husband and I had attended. In my short shorts, I had pressed my body against my husband’s as we made out while Tim McGraw crooned in the background, reminding me to “live like I am dying”. I couldn’t wait to get my adorable, attentive husband into bed that night.

What had been so different? Well, at the festival he didn’t expect me to “do” anything. I was just being me on my own terms, and I felt sexy and confident. I knew there was an answer here but I couldn’t quite see it... Yet.

It wasn’t until I was working on putting my weekly plans into my organiser that I realised while I had been crushing my goals at work, having great life balance, enjoying good friendships, and living my purpose, the one area I had put the least effort into week after week, month after month, and year after year was my romantic relationship with my husband.

Then, a woma

Negative attitudes towards ageing and death could spoil the full enjoyment of your later years. It’s time to confront the taboos and look for the positives… wrinkles and all!

In our culture, youth – having perfect, wrinkle-free skin, being cool, and fashionable – is celebrated. Absorbing these cultural messages can lead us to feel worried, stressed, or sad about ageing. As soon as we see the first blemish, we may start trying to fix it. We may colour our hair, or do whatever we can to hide the signs for as long as possible. Yet, no matter what we do, deep down we all know that growing older is inevitable.

Negative attitudes towards age are common in Western societies. The World Values Survey, analysed by the World Health Organisation, looked at attitudes towards the elderly in all age groups, and found that the lowest levels of respect were reported in high income countries.

We may have subconscious negative beliefs about ageing that are not only hurtful to others, but can impact our own wellbeing, too. Research published in The Journal of Gerontology: Psychological Sciences found that people with a negative view towards ageing report lower levels of life satisfaction. They are also more likely to be hospitalised or to die young.

What can we learn from cultures that do value the elderly? Ancient civilisations, like the pagans, worshipped a triple goddess. They recognised three different life stages of women – the maiden, the mother and the crone. The crone was the last stage, after menopause. The crone represents wisdom and counsel, valuable skills that are of huge benefit to the young.

According to therapist Dr Linda E Savage, author of Reclaiming Goddess Sexuality, the crone years are a time of “giving back to society the cumulative wisdom of the years. Many women have an urge to speak out, to organise others. It is often crone energy that leads to changes being made in society. As the crone woman moves further into her life path, she feels the urge to teach others and to cultivate her passions. It can be the most productive time in women’s lives.”

Another more positive impression of the elderly is found in Native American cultures. Older generations are respected, and known as the ‘wisdom keepers’. It is typical for elders to receive people’s full attention when they speak. Wrinkles and stretch marks are seen as signs of wisdom, rather than flaws.

As people get older, they may experience a slowing down, a reassessment of values and ways of living. However, this doesn’t mean that they lose their usefulness as human beings. Far from it. With more time to focus on what matters, people can hone their purpose, and spend time doing what brings them joy.

In the book Our Wisdom Years: Growing Older with Joy, Fulfilment, Resilience and No Regrets, psychologist Charles Garfield tells how a hip injury forced him to slow down and reassess his values. After a lifetime of achievement and constant busy-ness, his injury allowed him more time for reflection. Garfield considers the later years of life to be ones in which the elderly can listen to their calling – something they’ve always wanted to do, but

Taking a gap year is no longer just for school-leavers or recent graduates. A ‘grown-up’ gap year can help you work out what you want in life, at any time of life

I took my first gap year when I was 19, just after sixth form. I took my second in my late 20s following a messy break-up and being made redundant. My third? My husband and I are planning to sail around the Mediterranean to celebrate a big birthday. But I’m not a permanent student or living off a trust fund; I’m part of the steadily growing trend for ‘grown-up’ gap years.

Although there are no official figures for how many of us are now taking adult gap years, a quick Google reveals the explosion of travel companies aimed at older ‘gappers’. Social media is also filled with photos and updates from older generations taking a year off. Some of us have reached a natural break in our lives, like turning 30, 40, or 50, while others are discovering there’s more to life than the standard nine-to-five.

If you’ve ever thought about taking a life break, but are put off by the thought of travelling solo surrounded by amorous A-level students, then a grown-up gap year may be exactly what you need.

Why take an adult gap year?

There are many different reasons to take a gap year. “You might get itchy feet, or start wondering if there’s something else out there,” says Gemma Nixon, a life coach from Durham, who’s also taken three grown-up gap years. “You could be getting married and decide to take a longer honeymoon before you have children, or plan to take the children travelling while they’re still little.”

Your desire for a gap year could also take you by surprise. Gemma says: “You might develop a sense that you’re not 100% content in your life, but you’re not sure why.”

For me, my first gap year felt like a natural point at which I could take time off to backpack around South East Asia, but my second was more about helping me work out where I wanted to go next in life. “A gap year doesn’t have to ‘bookend’ parts of your life, but can offer new dimensions to it,” says Gemma.

This yearning to take a different path is inspiring more of us to make the break post-pandemic. “As people have gone back into shops and offices, they realise their ‘old’ life is no longer enough,” Gemma says. “Many loved spending so much time with their family, and want to enjoy more experiences together, or they’ve decided there’s more to life and now’s the time to enjoy it.”

Others may have planned for years to take a grown-up gap year. This could be after retirement, getting the all-clear after an illness, or to celebrate a milestone event, like a significant birthday or the children leaving home.

What to do during a grown-up gap year

A gap year isn’t limited to full moon parties in Thailand, or fruit-picking in Australia – although if that sounds appealing, go for it! You could use the opportunity to explore a new career, or put more time into a

Birth anxiety is a common experience, but it doesn’t have to rule you

Birth anxiety is extremely common – thought to affect up to 80% of women, with a further 14% experiencing ‘tokophobia’, a severe fear of childbirth. And, if we take a minute to consider where this fear might come from, it doesn’t take long to come up with some hypotheses.

“When we think about the images and perceptions of birth which flood our subconscious from early childhood, it’s no wonder labour and birth are surrounded by feelings of fear and apprehension,” says Samantha Phillis, counsellor, midwife, and hypnobirthing teacher. “Women are usually portrayed as helpless, screaming in agony, relying on another person (usually a man, like a doctor or husband) to rescue them. Normal labour and childbirth are, quite frankly, not dramatic enough to make ‘good television’.”

Samantha goes on to explain how, even in supposedly ‘real’ portrayals of birth on mainstream television – One Born Every Minute being one example – what you see on the screen is likely to have been edited to ramp up the drama. “Women are usually in the ‘lithotomy’ position (on their backs with their legs in stirrups), lots of people in the room telling them to ‘PUSH’, with a lot of noise and seemingly a considerable amount of drama.”

But the consequences of this kind of culture are more sinister than simply making the whole thing look a bit unappealing.

All those stories, sometimes passed down through the generations – of births gone wrong, near-misses, emergencies, accidents, and trauma – stick with us. Those stories help to continue the cycle of fear, and that fear can become self-fulfilling.

“Physically, the effect of anxiety can actually increase how we experience pain,” Samantha explains. “When we are tense, we reduce the amount of oxygen flowing to our muscles (known as a state of hypoxia) which increases the experience of pain.”

She points to Grantly Dick-Read’s description of the ‘fear-pain-tension’ cycle in his 1921 book Childbirth Without Fear – which outlines how the more that we fear the pain of birth, the more tense we will feel and therefore the more we will experience pain. What’s more, fear can also prolong the labour, caused by the release of adrenaline when we’re frightened.

“One of the most important hormones we require for labour to progress is oxytocin,” Samantha explains. “Oxytocin is a shy hormone that needs privacy, dim lights, and for you to feel safe in order to work effectively. When adrenaline is released, oxytocin is inhibited, therefore labour will slow down or even stop if women do not feel safe.”

When it comes to tackling birth anxiety, Samantha has plenty of practical tips – including avoiding negative stories, reworking your mindset, and building support systems – but she also highlights how the key to having a more empowered and positive experience is having trust in your body and your instincts.

“We kind of ‘overthink’ birth, which can interfere with the labour process,” she explains. ȁ