When I was in graduate school, therapists were still being trained to be neutral. Clients weren’t supposed to know much about you—just your name and credentials. If you worked with couples, neutrality also meant never taking sides. You weren’t supposed to turn to Partner A and say, “You’re in the wrong here,” or tell Partner B, “Your approach seems controlling.” The idea was that taking sides would damage rapport with the partner being challenged—and without strong rapport with both partners, couples therapy couldn’t work.

But after more than a decade of working with couples, I’ve developed my own voice and style as a therapist—as most seasoned clinicians do. I’ve found that staying neutral doesn’t actually help clients. In fact, it reinforces the stereotype that therapists just sit quietly and nod all day. And in couples therapy specifically, I believe complete neutrality can be dangerous.

Desmond Tutu once said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” While this quote was about a very different kind of injustice, I believe it applies to couples work. Sometimes in relationships, one partner is clearly exerting power in a way that dismisses or minimizes the other. Sometimes they take turns doing the oppressing. This doesn’t automatically mean someone is a narcissist—it’s a dynamic many of us have participated in at one point or another.

But when that dynamic shows up in therapy, it’s my job to name it. The partner who is being dismissed needs to be seen and validated. The one exerting control needs to be gently but clearly challenged, and given alternative ways to express their needs without dominance or coercion. That’s where the real growth happens. That’s when healing begins.

Anyone who has worked with me knows I’m expressive in sessions. Sitting quietly and nodding isn’t in my nature—maybe because I’m Latina, maybe because I know silence in the face of harm is complicity. There have been times when I’ve logged off from a session sure that the couple wouldn’t book again—because I called out the oppressive dynamic and held someone accountable. But 9 out of 10 times, they come back. They keep working. And those are the couples where I’ve seen the most meaningful change. It’s some of the most fulfilling work I do.

Just last month, I listened to Terry Real—an industry leader in couples therapy—on the Modern Love podcast by The New York Times. He talked about how he takes sides in session. As I listened, I felt seen. I felt affirmed. This is the kind of therapy that fosters accountability, empathy, and lasting transformation.

Terry calls it “joining through the truth”—which he describes as challenging a client in a way that’s both compassionate and precise, so they can actually hear it and take it in. In that same interview, he reflected on how, in therapy school—and in patriarchal society at large—we are trained not to “tell truth to power.” In other words, we’re taught not to confront those in control. He went further, naming the reality that our field has a dark history of colluding with perpetrators and siding—explicitly or implicitly—with those who hold power in the room.

As couples therapists, I think it’s essential that we each develop our own style and flavor. We don’t need to be carbon copies of one another—and honestly, we shouldn’t be. But as we carve out our identities, as we clarify who we want to serve and what kind of work we want to do, we also have to reckon with the legacy of our profession, the cultural systems we’re working within, and the people sitting across from us.

If you’ve been to couples therapy and all your therapist did was nod, paraphrase, and ask, “How did that make you feel?”—and it didn’t lead to the change or healing you were hoping for—don’t give up on couples therapy. Look for a therapist who takes sides when it matters. One who offers compassionate challenges, gives constructive feedback, and holds both of you accountable. That kind of work is hard, yes—but it’s also where real transformation begins.