The Shared Account of Goodwill: Why I Always Check the Balance Before We Begin

After more than a decade of sitting across from couples in crisis, I've learned that the most important assessment I can make in those first few sessions has nothing to do with communication styles or conflict patterns. It's simpler and more fundamental than that: I need to know if there's anything left in their shared account of goodwill—and I need to be willing to tell them when that account is overdrawn.

Let me be clear about something I wish I'd understood earlier in my practice: you cannot do meaningful couples work when the emotional bank account is empty. I've watched too many well-intentioned therapists push couples into vulnerability exercises and communication techniques when what they really needed to hear was, "Your account is overdrawn, and we need to address that first."

What I Look for in Those First Sessions

When I meet with a new couple, I'm listening for something specific. It's not just the presenting problem or even the pattern of their arguments. I'm listening for evidence of goodwill—those small indicators that despite everything that's brought them to my office, they still have some positive emotional currency with each other.

Sometimes it's obvious. They still laugh at each other's jokes, even in the midst of explaining their frustrations. One partner instinctively hands the other a tissue when they tear up. They use "we" language when talking about their problems instead of "you always" or "you never." These are deposits still being made, even in distress.

But other times—and this happens more often than I'd like—I see the telltale signs of an overdrawn account. They can't make eye contact. Every story about their partner focuses on what they've done wrong. They flinch when their partner moves or speaks. The very air between them feels depleted.

The Moment of Truth

Here's what I've learned: couples know when their account is overdrawn. They feel it in their bodies, in the way they hold themselves apart, in the exhaustion that comes with trying to connect when there's nothing left to give. But they rarely have anyone acknowledge this reality.

So I tell them. Usually in the third or fourth session, after I've gotten a clear picture of their dynamic, I'll say something like: "It seems to me that the goodwill account in your relationship is significantly overdrawn right now. You're both emotionally depleted, and asking you to do traditional couples work in this state would be like asking you to write checks when your bank account is empty."

The relief on their faces is almost always immediate. Finally, someone understands why everything feels so hard, why every attempt at connection seems to backfire, why they're both so tired.

Why I Became Willing to Say It

Early in my career, I was afraid to acknowledge when couples were this depleted. I worried it would discourage them or make them feel hopeless. So I'd push forward with standard interventions—teaching active listening, exploring attachment styles, working on conflict resolution—and wonder why progress was so slow or nonexistent.

I remember one couple in particular. Sarah and Mike had been together for fifteen years, and their account had been overdrawn for at least three of those years. She'd had an affair, he'd become emotionally abusive in response, and they'd been stuck in a cycle of attack and defend ever since. But I kept trying to get them to have "fair fights" and practice appreciation exercises.

It was a disaster. Every technique I introduced became another weapon in their arsenal. Active listening turned into ammunition for future arguments. Appreciation exercises felt forced and hollow because there was no foundation of genuine goodwill to build on.

Finally, in what I thought might be our last session, I stopped and said, "I think I've been asking you to do something impossible. You're both running on empty, and I've been asking you to give from reserves you simply don't have."

That's when the real work began.

What an Overdrawn Account Actually Looks Like

After all these years, I can spot the signs pretty quickly:

The Defensive Crouch: Both partners approach every interaction ready for attack. They're hypervigilant, interpreting neutral statements as criticism, unable to give each other the benefit of the doubt because there's no goodwill left to support that generosity.

Emotional Numbing: When people are too depleted to keep getting hurt, they shut down. I see couples who barely register each other's presence, who have developed an almost eerie politeness that masks complete emotional disconnection.

The Repair Deficit: Healthy couples recover from arguments. They have natural repair mechanisms—humor, affection, perspective-taking—that help them reconnect after conflict. When the account is overdrawn, these mechanisms simply stop working.

Story Contamination: I listen carefully to how partners tell stories about each other. When goodwill is present, even complaints are balanced with positive observations. When it's absent, every story becomes evidence for the prosecution.

The Work of Restoration

When I determine that a couple's goodwill account is overdrawn, we shift into what I call "account restoration mode." This looks very different from traditional couples therapy, and I've learned to be explicit about this shift with my clients.

"We're not going to work on communication skills right now," I'll tell them. "We're going to work on basic relationship hygiene. We're going to focus on stopping the bleeding first, then very slowly building back some positive balance."

This phase is slower and less dramatic than what couples often expect from therapy. We work on:

Individual Restoration: Often, partners need to replenish their own emotional resources before they can contribute to the shared account. This might mean addressing depression, anxiety, or trauma that's contributing to their depletion.

Basic Courtesy: I ask couples to commit to basic politeness—saying please and thank you, not interrupting, avoiding sarcasm and eye-rolling. These seem like small things, but they're the foundation of respect that makes deposits possible.

Micro-Deposits: Instead of grand gestures, we focus on tiny positive interactions. Making coffee without being asked. Saying "drive safely" when someone leaves. Sharing a funny meme. These small acts begin to shift the emotional climate.

The Patience This Work Requires

I won't lie—restoring an overdrawn goodwill account is slow work. Couples often get frustrated with the pace, especially when they're in crisis and want dramatic change. I've had to learn to be very clear about timelines and realistic about what's possible.

"Think about it this way," I tell them. "If your financial bank account was thousands of dollars overdrawn, you wouldn't expect to fix it in a week. You'd need to stop spending, start earning, and very gradually build back a positive balance. Emotional accounts work the same way."

Some couples can't tolerate this pace. They want immediate transformation, and when I tell them we need to start with basic respect and tiny gestures of care, they think I'm not taking their problems seriously enough. I've learned that this reaction is often a sign of how depleted they really are—they're so desperate for connection that they can't accept the gradual work required to rebuild it.

When the Account Can't Be Restored

I also need to be honest about something else I've learned: sometimes the account is so overdrawn, and the pattern of withdrawals so entrenched, that restoration isn't possible within the context of the relationship.

This is perhaps the hardest part of my job—helping couples recognize when they've moved beyond repair into a space where the kindest thing they can do is end the relationship with dignity rather than continue depleting each other.

I've sat with couples where years of affairs, abuse, addiction, or profound neglect have created such a deficit that no amount of therapeutic intervention can restore balance. In these cases, our work shifts to helping them separate with as much respect and as little additional damage as possible.

The Hope in Honest Assessment

But here's what gives me hope after all these years: most couples who are willing to acknowledge their overdrawn state and commit to the slow work of restoration can rebuild their accounts. I've seen relationships that seemed completely depleted develop deeper intimacy and stronger foundations than they ever had before.

The key is starting with truth. When I tell couples their account is overdrawn, I'm not delivering a death sentence—I'm providing a diagnosis that makes effective treatment possible. Once we all understand what we're working with, we can develop a realistic plan for moving forward.

What I Wish More Therapists Understood

If I could share one thing with my colleagues, it would be this: don't be afraid to acknowledge depletion. Don't rush into advanced therapeutic techniques when couples lack the basic foundation of goodwill to support them.

Yes, it's slower work. Yes, it requires patience from everyone involved. But it's honest work, and it leads to sustainable change rather than temporary fixes that crumble under pressure.

The Transformation That's Possible

I think about Sarah and Mike, that couple I mentioned earlier. Once I acknowledged that their account was overdrawn and we shifted our focus to basic restoration, everything changed. It took months—almost a year—but slowly, they began to remember why they'd loved each other in the first place.

They're not perfect. They still have conflicts, still trigger each other sometimes. But they've built up enough goodwill that they can weather these storms. They have repair mechanisms again. They can give each other the benefit of the doubt. Their account isn't just solvent—it's thriving.

That's what becomes possible when we're willing to start with truth, even when that truth is difficult. The shared account of goodwill isn't just a metaphor—it's a practical tool for understanding where couples really are and meeting them there with appropriate interventions.

After more than a decade of this work, I've learned that the most therapeutic thing I can sometimes say is: "Your account is overdrawn, and that makes perfect sense given what you've been through. Now let's figure out how to rebuild it, one small deposit at a time."