Couples today, especially ones who've been together for many years, are vulnerable to a silent, almost invisible and slow-growing "relationship disease." I call this condition coexistence without contact. Couples living with this "disease" share a home, a bed and a schedule while living in almost entirely separate daily realities.
In her book "Reclaiming Conversation," for example, MIT sociologist Sherry Turkle describes the modern experience of "being together, but also being elsewhere," and argues that it undermines our capacity to have the conversations that count. Real conversations require both people to be present.
As a psychologist who specializes in relationships, I see couples having fewer of those real conversations and being less present with each other. They build systems for running a shared life. They work out who handles the mornings, who books the appointments, which chores belong to whom and how the week gets planned. These systems are a genuine achievement, and they're indicative of good management.
But a relationship isn't a company you're trying to run. A company improves when you divide responsibilities clearly and let each person own one area. A relationship is more complicated than that. In my experience, what holds two people together is overlap, along with conversation and genuine connection.
It builds through small habits that each look harmless, but get out of hand because you repeat them for a decade. In my experience, three of them do most of the damage: