A Therapist’s Reflection from the Kitchen Table
This picture illustrates what researchers John and Julie Gottman have found in decades of studying marriage: approximately 69% of marital conflicts are perpetual. They aren’t fully solvable.

That number can sound discouraging at first. Almost 70%?
But what it really includes are the daily differences that come from not marrying yourself. Differences in rhythm, organization, and priorities.
This picture was taken at my dining table, just outside the kitchen. For a moment, before snapping it, I considered clearing the background of all the stuff that had accumulated on the table. But I decided not to.
Because that was me. Or more accurately, us.
It has been a decades-long trial to get my things off the kitchen table.
You might wonder what the big deal is. That’s a thought my husband and I have both had over the years with varying levels of irritation. We’ve tried different systems and decorative baskets. We’ve tried moving furniture around to create “drop zones.” And yet, when I walk in at the end of the day, my purse, keys, groceries, something rescued from the backseat, and the panda backpack will land on the table for at least a moment. And once removed, it won’t be long before they find their way back again.
It is not a lack of caring, I assure you. It is a difference in wiring.
And over time, my husband has come to accept that this may be part of the deal.
And this picture brings me to Valentine’s Day this year. As I thought about gifts (while noting that we probably wouldn’t be traveling to my happy place), I found a planter inspired by Living with the Land at Epcot.
On our first trip to Disney, I told our then five-year-old son that “Living with the Land” was the ride they put you on when you were in “timeout.” I hadn’t had fond memories of it growing up. Back then, I was a little coaster head who wanted to ride the good stuff, not cruise past aquaculture.
Today, it is not my child’s favorite. But now that my husband and I are stressed Disney adults, it’s one of the best things to ride. Slow, calm, and quiet. Let’s go learn about edible water lilies!
So I bought the planter, and my husband loved it. I had imagined that it could be an office supply organizer, so I left it empty. He said some plastic succulents would look good in his office, however, so I took my youngest son to Michael’s the following week after school.
All this time, while I’m shopping online and choosing the filler and plants, the kitchen table is sitting cluttered with stuff.
I arranged the plants and decided whether to use the butterflies I got in the same aisle. The table was still covered. The conflict was still technically unsolved.
And yet, I was creating something for my husband to enjoy. The retro planter holds our affection for EPCOT and the hope that one day we too might “truly be living with the land.” It’s a reminder of great times and a not-so-subtle hint that I’d like to go back.
The goal in marriage isn’t living in lockstep. It’s learning how to live alongside your partner’s differences: staying curious about them and building connective rituals in the midst of, and maybe despite, those differences.
The kitchen table may never be spotless at the end of the day. That may be part of our 69%.
But the planter, the memories, and the care shown in managing intractable conflict matter too.
So if there’s a recurring disagreement in your relationship, it might be worth asking a different question.
Not “How do we solve this?”
But “How do we live with this well?”
The strength of a relationship isn’t measured by how perfectly we agree. Sometimes it’s measured by how gently we learn to disagree.
Leave a Reply