'Landslide' Moments in Love

If the song "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac doesn't make you tear up, then maybe I'm not the therapist for you. And here's why.

Cue the grainy video from the concert (LOL)

How I've Grown in My Marriage (Yes, Even Therapists Have Struggles)

Last week my husband and I went to see Stevie Nicks in concert in Oklahoma City. It was profound, on many levels.

As I stood beside him, swaying, clapping, crying, I realized how much we’ve grown. We weren’t perfect when we got married, and we’re not perfect now. But we are better. Stronger. More “us” than we used to be.

Wedding photos are lovely, aren’t they?

Then Stevie came back on stage for the encore and began singing “Landslide.” My husband and I mouthed the words together in the darkened stadium:

"Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I don’t know…

I’ve been afraid of changing, ’cause I built my life around you."

Several years ago, those lyrics would have sliced me open. The truth is: I wasn’t happy in my marriage, and I'm not entirely sure how fulfilled my husband felt at the time, either. I was ashamed even admitting that, to myself, let alone anyone else.

My relational coping style back then? Resentful martyrdom, passive-aggressive communication, and endless complaints. My husband’s? Wounds from deep childhood trauma, emotional immaturity, and a lack of generosity. In other words: our unique mixture of our relational skills, or lack thereof, were not exactly a recipe for joy.

Layer onto that the landslides of life, grieving the death of our first child, infertility, financial struggles, and it’s a miracle we didn’t bury each other in the rubble.

Here's what happened instead: Time made us bolder. We chose each other. We chose to do the work. We got serious about our needs in the relationship, and our wants. Slowly, awkwardly, sometimes painfully, we built a relationship that, on most days, we now cherish. A partnership where intimacy, vulnerability, and joy have room to grow.

The Spiritual Gift of Long-Term Love

Here’s what I’ve learned: long-term relationships are both mirror and teacher. They offer us the chance to grow, to grieve what we will never get from our parents in childhood, and to be tenderly seen and truly known by one person better than anyone else.

Imagine the profound peace in letting go of the dream that your partner will be an endless god or goddess who is always turned on, always receptive, always happy, always loving, etc., while recognizing the hard, gritty truth:

I'm with a flawed, wonderful, messy, imperfect human being. And darn it, that must mean my partner is, subsequently, with a flawed, wonderful, messy, imperfect human being as well.

It's humbling. It's sacred. And it's often where our spirit matures. Relationships are a spiritual portal to who we can truly become, if we take accountability for the wounds reflected back at us.

What Stevie Nicks Taught Me About Relationships

In an interview, Stevie shared how “Landslide” was born during a season of fear and uncertainty. She was broke, waitressing by day, recording by night, and questioning her future with Lindsey Buckingham. She said something that stopped me in my tracks:

“Fear never helps relationships.”

She went on: “What we have to offer together is way better than what I have to offer by myself.”

That sounds a lot like what therapist Terry Real teaches in his book, Us: Getting Past You & Me to Build a More Loving Relationship:

“You are connected, you and your partner; there is no escape. The people we know and love trigger our deepest wounds, and at the same time they provide the greatest comfort and solace. For good and ill, we do not stand alone.” (pg. 52)

Relationships are not one big decision (despite what they made it sound like in your wedding vows); they’re a million little ones. Moment by moment, you decide whether to lean in or pull away. Sometimes those decisions lead you back to each other. Sometimes they don’t.

And good therapy doesn't tell you what to do with your life or your love. It helps you see that no matter what choices you make, you can and will find your way.

Either way, healing takes time. And clarity takes even longer.

Landslide Moments in Love

Every relationship faces landslide moments in love, times when the ground beneath you feels like it’s giving way. But sometimes, paradoxically, relationships can be shelter from the rumbling earth, the flying debris, the mess and chaos of being human in a hard world.

When we allow ourselves to be seen, when we stay present through fear and change, we find resilience. We discover that love isn’t about avoiding landslides. It’s about dusting ourselves off, and choosing relationality over individuality. Choosing Us over You and Me.

This is the work of self-actualization. Of spiritual transcendance. Of becoming whole. Of growing up.

Because in the end, life and love are not about perfection. They're choosing, over and over, to surrender to the landslides, and to see who you become on the other side.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourself,

Megan