Affairs show up constantly in couple work. They are one of the most common reasons couples come to therapy, but they also carry all sorts of personal triggers for therapists. It is easy for our own values, associations, or experiences to intrude if we are not clear about the frame. For me, it has never been about whether I approve or disapprove of affairs or how people manage their boundaries. That is not the point.

The issue is simple: if someone is involved in another romantic relationship, they are not fully present in the current one. And if they are not fully present, the work cannot proceed. Therapy requires both people to be in the room, not split between two relationships. Another relationship obscures the one we are trying to work with. It distorts the process, makes commitment ambiguous, and turns sessions into something that is not real engagement.

Affairs are complex. They are rarely as simple as impulsivity or carelessness, and they usually reflect layers of unmet needs, avoidance, or long-standing relational drift. But even with that complexity in mind, the practical problem remains the same: you cannot work out whether a relationship is worth fighting for when one partner is emotionally tied somewhere else. There is not enough presence in the room, not enough intensity for the work to land.

This is why I make it explicit at the start: if there is an ongoing affair, I do not do couple therapy. It is not a judgment about the affair itself. It is about the fact that you cannot rebuild, repair, or reorient a relationship when one partner is still relating elsewhere. The affair functions as a third presence in the room and prevents any meaningful shift.

Once the affair is closed, then the real work starts. That is where the pain, the resentment, the avoidance, and the unmet needs come into focus. But that work is only possible when both people are actually in the relationship we are trying to address. Without that, therapy becomes pretending, and pretending is not worth anybody’s time.