Your partner walks into the kitchen in her jogging gear, at ease, a half-smile on her face. There’s perspiration on her forehead. “Hi,” she says. “What’s for dinner?” Your partner’s shoulders stiffen. “You said you’d get some last week.” She removes her earbuds and rolls her eyes. “Wow, you’re in a foul mood,” she says. “And you’re out jogging while I’m cooking us dinner!” you yell. “I mean, do I have to do all the shopping, now, too?” Your partner turns away and stomps up the stairs. You throw a spoon into the sink, and it bounces to the floor. “Make your own dinner!” you yell. What do you do in this situation? Take Twos are simple (but not necessarily easy). You’ll need your partner’s buy-in before you start trying these, so talk about it in advance and adapt them to fit you. Maybe share this article and make a plan to try one out during a minor disagreement, at first. Here’s how it works: When you notice a fight has started, stop. Mid-sentence, if necessary. Say to your partner, “Let’s do a Take Two.” Once your partner agrees, and you’ve both taken a few deep breaths, restart the “scene” of your fight from the moment you felt triggered. If there were several trigger points, pick the earliest one you can remember. Then begin the scene again. This time, do it differently—even just a little differently. For example: Even if Take Twos seem forced or “sappy,” they still work. In fact, the simple act of being willing to disengage from the first “take” of your fight shows you’re willing to hold yourself accountable for your part in co-creating the disconnection with your partner. Take Twos are about acknowledging your contribution to a fight, giving yourself and your partner a second chance, forgoing the temptation to defend or punish, and responding a little differently—good differently. Kind differently. Relationally differently. Years later, when I was studying psychology and I got into fights with my boyfriend, I started wondering if I could do with him what I’d seen actors do on a film set. What if, as I was in the middle of escalating a fight, lost in an emotional reaction, I could somehow recognize that the way I was speaking or behaving—no matter how “right” it felt—was just one “take” of the real-life “scene” we were in? What if I could reset and do a second take of the conflict, starting from an earlier point in the fight-triggering sequence of events. Maybe I could do things in a way that was more aligned with my heart and quickly enough to preempt my prideful defensiveness. Maybe I could change the tenor of our interaction right away, avoiding an hours-long “fight hangover.” Maybe I could handle fights with a little more humility and a touch of humor. As it turned out, I could. And so could my boyfriend (now husband). Not always, and not even particularly well at times, but often well enough so that Take Twos became a tool worth relying on. We got better at it. Over time, doing them became easier. We’ve grown to like them because they can turn things around between us quickly and help defuse our resentment toward one another. Today, many of the couples I see in my therapy practice also report successfully using Take Twos. Even when a fight seems to be following an old, entrenched dynamic, some couples have told me they’re able to ask for and grant each other the opportunity to do a Take Two, which in itself and of itself has deescalated the fight. Once your partner has stomped up the stairs, and you’ve retrieved the spoon from the sink, you take a deep breath. Your heart is beating fast, you’re fuming, but you also recognize that you’re stressed out and angry about lots of little things that have (or haven’t) happened, today and yesterday and this whole week. Several factors have contributed to your reactivity about the lack of black beans in the pantry. You walk to the bottom of the stairs and call out, “Hey, can we do a Take Two?” You’ve already discussed Take Twos with your partner—maybe even shared this article with them. “OK,” she calls out. “Give me a minute.” When she comes back downstairs, you agree on the starting point. “Hi,” she says, walking into the kitchen, again. “What’s for dinner?” “I’m trying to make a black bean salad,” you say. “And I’ve been looking everywhere for black beans, but I can’t find any. So in my mind, I’m really, really tempted to snap at you and make this mean you’re irresponsible and don’t care because I remember asking you to get black beans last week.” “Well, I appreciate you not snapping at me,” your partner says. “It just feels like I’m doing everything these days,” you say. “I feel overwhelmed.” “The reason I didn’t get black beans was because there were none on the shelves in the store. I got kidney beans, though. Can you use those instead?” Your partner smiles, and you shrug sheepishly. You still don’t feel 100% fabulous—there’s some of that fidgety, bristly “fight energy” in your body—but you do feel less reactive, more in control, and grateful to your partner for doing a Take Two with you. “Sure,” you say. “And maybe we could watch something on Netflix later. I feel like we’re ships passing in the night these days, and I want to spend time with you.” “Hug?” your partner offers. “If you don’t mind me being all sweaty.” Even if your Take Twos feel scripted or lack spontaneity, it’s possible to accept them as “practice runs” of how things might unfold next time. And it’s empowering to know that you can both practice doing something to stop a fight in its tracks and move your interaction in the direction of ownership, reconnection, and repair. If you want to make the Take Two even more effective, find out what your partner might have needed you to say or do differently at the moment the fight escalated. Incorporate that into your Take Two. Allow yourself to practice being the conscious partner you wished you could have been from the beginning—and are growing into becoming right now.
