How to Rebuild Intimacy in a Relationship: What Actually Works, and What Doesn't
You've both felt it. The distance that doesn't have a name. The warmth that used to be effortless has become something you have to consciously reach for. And at some point, one of you says it, out loud or just to yourself: we need to do something. We need to rebuild this.
And so you try. A date night. A conversation. A deliberate attempt to be more present. And sometimes it helps, a little, for a while. But the intimacy doesn't quite return to where it was. Or it does, briefly, and then the ordinary texture of daily life takes over again.
This is the part that most advice about how to rebuild intimacy in a relationship doesn't address honestly: trying harder is rarely the answer. How you try matters enormously. And the things that tend to actually work are often quieter, slower, and more counterintuitive than most couples expect.
How do you rebuild intimacy in a relationship?
Rebuilding intimacy in a relationship is less about doing more and more about shifting orientation. From managing the relationship to being genuinely present inside it. Trying harder, scheduling closeness, and having direct conversations about needing more of it tend to create pressure, which is one of the fastest ways to push intimacy further away. What works is quieter: meeting your partner's small moments of reaching, sharing something honest rather than presentable, lowering the stakes on physical closeness so ease can return before desire does. Most couples who begin this way notice a shift in the emotional climate within a few weeks.
For a broader understanding of why intimacy fades in the first place, see our guide on lack of intimacy in a relationship.
What this article covers
- Why trying harder doesn't rebuild intimacy, and what does
- How do you rebuild emotional intimacy?
- How do you rebuild physical intimacy without creating more pressure?
- Is there a single practice that consistently helps couples rebuild intimacy?
- Does doing new things together actually help rebuild intimacy?
- What gets in the way of rebuilding intimacy and how do you work with it?
- How long does it take to rebuild intimacy in a relationship?
- When does rebuilding intimacy require professional support?
- A closing thought
- Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)
Why trying harder doesn't rebuild intimacy, and what does
Most couples who recognise that intimacy has faded respond the way they respond to most problems: with effort. They plan a special evening. They commit to more quality time. They sit down for a conversation about what's gone wrong. These things are not bad ideas. But most couples find that they produce only a temporary shift, and sometimes no shift at all.
There is a reason for this. Intimacy is not a problem that responds to being solved. It is a quality of presence, a way of being with another person, that emerges when certain conditions are in place. When those conditions are missing, no amount of effort aimed directly at intimacy tends to restore it. What that effort often produces instead is pressure. And pressure, in almost every piece of research on closeness and desire, is one of the fastest ways to push intimacy further away.
Sue Johnson, who developed Emotionally Focused Therapy, describes this with precision. What most couples in a low-intimacy phase need is not more effort toward each other. It is a shift in the emotional climate between them. Safety, not performance. Presence, not planning.
From fixing to noticing
Before any specific practice can help, something more fundamental tends to need shifting, and that fundamental thing is orientation. Most couples in a low-intimacy phase are oriented toward the relationship as a problem: something is broken, or missing, or no longer working as it should. That orientation, understandable as it is, keeps both partners in a mode of evaluating and managing the connection rather than experiencing it. It turns ordinary moments between partners into tests of whether things are improving.
The shift that precedes rebuilding intimacy is usually a shift away from fixing and toward noticing. From monitoring the relationship to being present inside it. Not: how are we doing? But: who are you right now? Not: are things getting better? But: what is this moment asking of me? This distinction sounds subtle but it changes everything about how ordinary daily moments feel.
Knowing what you are each actually missing
One of the most common ways couples stall when trying to rebuild intimacy is that they are working on the wrong dimension. One partner feels unseen and unexplored, they need emotional intimacy. The other feels unchosen and undesired, they need something physical. Both are reaching, but they keep missing, because they are reaching for different things and calling them both intimacy.
Before choosing a practice or an approach, it helps to understand which dimension has been most affected for each of you. Our article on emotional intimacy vs physical intimacy goes deeper into this distinction and how to identify it. For a fuller picture of why intimacy fades in the first place, the article on why relationships start to feel like roommates covers the dynamics behind this in more depth.
A note before you begin reflections
There are a few short reflection exercises in this article. If you are the partner who tends to notice these things first, who reads the articles, who carries the awareness of the relationship, they are not more work for you to do alone. They are most useful when they eventually belong to both of you.
If your partner is not ready to hear this yet, or responds in a way that closes things down rather than opens them, that is not a failure. Sometimes the first time you try is the practice, not the conversation itself.
✦ Pause and Reflect #1: what's actually thinned
For yourself:
Before trying to change anything, locate the feeling more precisely. Take a slower breath and sit with this question: what's actually missing for you right now? Is it the sense of being genuinely known, your inner life being interesting to your partner? Or the sense of being wanted, chosen, still attractive to them? Or is it both, and they faded at different times and for different reasons?
There's no right answer here. You're just getting clearer on what you've actually been reaching for, which is the thing that tends to get lost when couples try to fix intimacy in general rather than addressing what's specifically thinned.
To bring to your partner:
Something you could say: "I've been trying to figure out what I actually miss between us. I don't want to guess. Can I tell you what I'm noticing, and can you tell me what it's like for you?"
How do you rebuild emotional intimacy?
Physical intimacy is the dimension most couples try to rebuild intimacy directly. It is also the one most likely to resist that approach. Emotional intimacy is usually the first dimension to address when couples want to rebuild intimacy in a relationship, because it is the foundation the physical dimension requires. Emotional intimacy, the felt sense of being truly known, seen, and accepted, erodes through a specific mechanism. Not through a single rupture, but through the gradual accumulation of small missed moments.
An emotional bid is any small attempt one partner makes to reach for the other. A comment, a sigh that carries more than it says, a glance across the room that asks quietly: are you with me? When bids are consistently met with attention and genuine response, they build a cumulative felt sense of being seen and valued. When they are consistently missed, not out of cruelty but out of distraction and depletion, emotional intimacy slowly contracts. This is the primary mechanism by which long-term couples drift apart.
What this means practically is that rebuilding emotional intimacy does not require big conversations or romantic gestures. It requires a consistent shift in attention: choosing to notice when your partner is reaching for you, and choosing to respond, even imperfectly.
The micro-connection practice
John and Julie Gottman's research is consistent on this point: couples who reliably turned toward each other's small bids for connection, who paused, looked up, responded, maintained emotional closeness regardless of how busy or pressured their lives became. The response did not need to be elaborate. A genuine moment of attention was sufficient.
A simple practice: for one week, consciously notice three moments per day when your partner reaches for you in some small way. Meet each one with your full presence, for whatever time you can give it. Notice what changes in the emotional temperature between you over the course of the week.
When bids miss: the quiet power of repair
One of the most consistent findings in Gottman's research is that even the closest couples miss each other's bids for connection regularly. What distinguishes couples who maintain intimacy over time is not that they never miss. It is that they repair.
A repair attempt is any small gesture that acknowledges a missed moment and gently tries again. Gottman's longitudinal research identified repair as one of the single strongest predictors of long-term relationship stability, stronger in many cases, than the frequency of missed moments themselves. What distinguishes couples who maintain intimacy over decades is not that they never miss. It is that they notice when they have missed and return to the moment without making it a confrontation. Repair can be verbal or physical. A hand on the shoulder after walking past a comment. A returning to something that was said and not responded to: "Wait, what were you saying earlier? I wasn't really listening." A soft acknowledgement: "I don't think I met you when you reached just now."
These gestures tend to feel small and almost awkward. But Gottman's research suggests they are disproportionately important. Couples rebuilding intimacy do not need to become people who never miss each other. They need to become people who notice when they have missed, and try again without making it a big conversation. The willingness to repair, more than the initial responsiveness, is what maintains emotional safety over time.
The return of speaking
Therapist Harriet Lerner draws a distinction that sits at the heart of rebuilding emotional intimacy: the difference between talking and speaking. Most couples in a low-intimacy phase talk constantly: about logistics, plans, decisions, the things that need to get done. What becomes rare, and what needs to return, is speaking: offering something from your actual inner experience. Something unresolved. Something that makes you a little vulnerable. The parts of yourself that haven't been shared recently.
This does not require a formal conversation. It can happen in the most ordinary moments. "I've been worried about something I haven't said out loud yet." "Something happened today that I keep thinking about." "I noticed I've been quieter lately, and I wanted you to know why." These are small acts of speaking, and they are precisely what rebuilds emotional closeness, because they require and create the conditions of being genuinely met.
✦ Pause and Reflect #2: something you've been carrying
For yourself:
Think of something you've been carrying lately that your partner probably doesn't know about. Not a complaint about them. Something internal. A small worry, a thought you keep returning to, a hope, a question you haven't settled. You don't need to share it yet. Just notice that it's there, and notice what it's been like to carry it quietly rather than with them.
To bring to your partner:
Something you could say, whenever a quiet moment appears: "Can I tell you something I've been thinking about? It's not a big thing. I just haven't said it yet."
If you're nervous about how it will come out, name that too: "I'm not sure how to say this, bear with me." That kind of small honesty actually makes it easier for the other person to receive, not harder.
How do you rebuild physical intimacy without creating more pressure?
Physical intimacy, the felt sense of being desired, chosen, wanted, is the dimension that couples most often try to address directly. And it is the dimension most likely to resist direct effort.
The reason has to do with how desire actually works in long-term relationships. Most couples assume that desire should precede connection. That you feel attracted first, and physical closeness follows. But for most people in established relationships, the reverse is closer to the truth.
Responsive desire is the form of sexual interest that emerges in response to connection, touch, or a shift in emotional tone rather than arriving spontaneously. Emily Nagoski's research shows that this is how most people in long-term relationships actually experience desire. Not as something that precedes closeness, but as something that follows it. It is not a lesser or broken form of desire. It is the norm. Understanding this changes everything about how couples approach rebuilding physical intimacy. The goal is not to generate desire directly, but to restore the conditions of safety, ease, genuine presence, in which desire can surface on its own.
What this means is that trying to rebuild physical intimacy by initiating sex, or by scheduling it, or by having a direct conversation about needing more of it, often creates exactly the conditions that make desire least accessible: pressure, self-consciousness, and the sense that closeness is something that needs to be performed rather than felt.
Starting with non-agenda touch
The most reliable way to begin rebuilding physical intimacy is not to begin with physical intimacy. It is to begin with physical closeness without expectation. Touch that asks nothing of either partner. A longer hug. A hand held while watching something together. Sitting close with no particular purpose. These moments begin to restore the nervous system's association of physical closeness with ease and safety, rather than with pressure and evaluation.
This is not intuitive for most couples. When physical intimacy has been scarce or pressured for a while, the natural instinct is to reach for it more directly: initiating more, scheduling it, or having a conversation about needing more of it. All of these are understandable. All of them tend to make the nervous system more guarded rather than less.
Deb Dana, who has applied Stephen Porges's research on the autonomic nervous system to everyday relationships, describes how the body registers safety before it can open toward connection. When touch has carried the weight of unmet need or quiet disappointment, the body starts to brace slightly whenever closeness approaches, even before the mind has registered the reason. Small, low-stakes physical contact is how that bracing begins to soften. Not through more desire, but through more ease. Over time, repeated experiences of touch without agenda begin to rewrite the body's expectation of what closeness means.
Esther Perel, whose work on long-term desire has become foundational in couples therapy, puts this plainly: desire has to be tended in long-term relationships. It does not maintain itself. But tending does not mean performing or forcing. It means paying attention. It means creating small, deliberate spaces where you and your partner are more than co-managers of a shared life. Rebuilding physical intimacy is often less about restoring desire than about restoring the conditions in which desire has somewhere to go.
If you want to understand how stress and depletion have affected both emotional and physical closeness over time, our article on emotional intimacy vs physical intimacy explores this in detail.
Releasing the pressure to want it
Rosemary Basson's research on sexual response found that for many people, particularly in long-term relationships, motivation for physical intimacy does not arrive spontaneously. It emerges from intimacy once safety, closeness, and ease are present. This distinction matters when thinking about how to rebuild intimacy in a relationship: you do not need to feel desire first. You need enough warmth and safety to allow desire to find its own way.
The sequence is ease first, then closeness, then desire. Not the other way around. For couples who have been waiting to feel the way they used to feel before reaching for each other, this reframe alone can change how the rebuilding process works. It moves the starting point from something you cannot control, the feeling of wanting, to something you can: the cultivation of conditions in which wanting becomes possible again.
What sustains long-term intimacy: honesty over novelty
There is a piece of research that pushes back against one of the most common cultural messages about how to rebuild intimacy in a relationship. Peggy Kleinplatz, a Canadian psychologist at the University of Ottawa, did something unusual in her field. Rather than studying couples with sexual difficulties, she studied couples who reported extraordinary sexual connection after many years together, sometimes decades.
Her findings are not what most people expect. The couples describing the most fulfilling long-term intimacy did not share novelty, technique, or constant reinvention. They shared something quieter: presence, authenticity, deep trust, and the willingness to be genuinely seen during physical closeness. What her work suggests, and what most couples trying to rebuild intimacy are rarely told, is that what sustains erotic connection over the long term is not the pursuit of excitement. It is the cultivation of honesty.
This is a significantly different message than the one most couples carry, and a considerably more accessible one. You do not need to become more exciting to rebuild intimacy. You need to become more honest, more present, more willing to be seen. That is both harder and simpler than novelty.
Is there a single practice that consistently helps couples rebuild intimacy?
Among the practices that relationship researchers consistently recommend, one stands out for its simplicity and its consistent effect on relational closeness: the weekly check-in conversation.
Not a date night. Not a formal conversation about problems. A short, structured exchange, fifteen to twenty minutes, built around two questions.
The state-of-the-union conversation is a brief weekly check-in format recommended by Gottman, built around two questions: what felt connecting this week, and where did we miss each other? The goal is not conflict resolution. It is mutual visibility. The simple, ongoing act of attending to the emotional texture of the relationship rather than waiting until something has gone wrong. Gottman's research found that couples who maintained this kind of regular relational attention built intimacy consistently over time. Regardless how busy or stressed their lives became.
The power of this practice is not in its content but in its regularity. Most couples in a low-intimacy phase are not lacking goodwill or care. They are lacking a dedicated moment. One that belongs entirely to the relationship rather than to logistics, planning, or problem-solving. A moment in which both people are simply attending to how they are with each other.
The two questions are deliberately simple. "What felt connecting this week" invites each partner to notice and name moments of genuine presence, however small. "Where did we miss each other" invites acknowledgment without blame. A shared recognition of the moments that passed without connection, held not as failures but as information.
Done consistently, this practice does something more important than any single conversation: it makes intimacy a practice rather than something you wait to feel. It shifts the relationship from reactive to intentional, without requiring the kind of effortful transformation that most couples cannot sustain.
✦ Pause and Reflect #3: the connecting and the missing
For yourself:
Look back over the last week. Can you find one moment when you felt genuinely met by your partner? Something you said or did that was received with real attention, even briefly. And can you find one moment when you reached and it didn't quite land? Not a fight, just a small missed moment.
Both of these are normal. Most weeks in most long relationships have both. Seeing them clearly, rather than remembering only the missed ones or only the connecting ones, is what keeps the picture accurate.
To bring to your partner:
Something you could say: "I'd like to try something. Fifteen minutes once a week, just us, not about logistics, not about what needs doing. Two questions: what felt connecting this week, and where did we miss each other? I'll go first."
If this feels too formal for your relationship, you can do the same thing less structured. A walk, a drive, the last few minutes before sleep.
Does doing new things together actually help rebuild intimacy?
Alongside the practices already discussed, there is one additional finding from long-term relationship research that tends to surprise couples because it contradicts what they think they should be doing.
Self-expansion is Arthur Aron's term for what happens when we incorporate new experiences, skills, or perspectives through a close relationship. Aron's research at Stony Brook University found that couples who engage in new, slightly challenging experiences together — not dramatic ones, just genuinely unfamiliar — report measurable increases in relational closeness and even in passionate feeling, sometimes after decades together. The mechanism is not the activity itself. It is the experience of encountering your partner in an unfamiliar context, where the habitual roles loosen and you see each other briefly as something other than the person who manages the laundry or the bedtime routine.
This is not about forcing date nights or adding one more thing to an already full life. And it is not the advice most couples receive, which tends to focus on more time together or more conversation. It is about occasionally stepping outside the grooves that shared life has worn into the relationship. A walk somewhere neither of you has been. A question neither of you has asked before. A small experience that does not already have a predictable shape.
What Aron's work suggests, and what most couples trying to rebuild intimacy in a relationship are not told, is that novelty is not a luxury of early love. It is one of the mechanisms by which long-term couples continue to genuinely see each other. These small experiences do something quiet but important: they restore the sense that your partner is still a person you are discovering, not only a person you are managing life with.
The frequency matters less than the departure from the familiar. A couple who does one genuinely unfamiliar thing together every few weeks tends to feel more connected than a couple who schedules weekly date nights at the same restaurant.
What gets in the way of rebuilding intimacy and how do you work with it?
Even when both partners genuinely want to rebuild intimacy in a relationship, certain patterns can block progress. Recognising these patterns rather than interpreting them as evidence that rebuilding is not possible, tends to be the most useful first step.
The pursue-withdraw cycle
When rebuilding intimacy, one pattern is worth naming specifically because well-intentioned effort tends to reinforce it rather than resolve it. One partner, feeling the distance and wanting to close it, reaches with more urgency. The other, feeling pressured, pulls back. Both responses are completely understandable. Together they lock the couple into a cycle that almost every attempt to fix things, whether through more conversation, more reassurance-seeking, or more space, tends to deepen rather than loosen.
This is the pursue-withdraw cycle that Sue Johnson's work has made central to couples therapy. The critical insight for rebuilding is that the cycle is not a sign of incompatibility or of effort failing. It is a sign that both partners are responding to the same underlying fear of disconnection from opposite directions. Naming the cycle together, as a shared pattern rather than one person's fault, is often what begins to break its grip.
For a fuller exploration of how the cycle works, what each partner is actually experiencing, and why simply understanding it tends to shift things, see our article on the effects of lack of intimacy.
The vulnerability barrier
Brené Brown's research identifies vulnerability as the foundation of genuine connection. The willingness to share something uncertain, unresolved, or emotionally risky before knowing how it will be received. But in relationships where intimacy has been low for a while, vulnerability can begin to feel neither safe nor natural. Both partners may have quietly adapted to a more defended version of themselves within the relationship: showing up as roles rather than as people.
Rebuilding emotional intimacy requires, eventually, a willingness to risk being seen again. Not dramatically, not all at once. The small, daily risks are what matter: saying something honest before you've made it presentable, sharing something uncertain without needing a resolution, asking a question that admits you don't know the answer.
Differentiation: the paradox of separateness
Differentiation is David Schnarch's term for the capacity to remain a genuine individual, with your own inner life, your own perspective, your own sense of self, while staying emotionally connected to a partner. Schnarch argued that low intimacy in long-term relationships often reflects not a lack of closeness but too much merger: partners so intertwined in the practical reality of shared life that each has lost some sense of being a distinct person.*.
This is one of the more counterintuitive insights about how to rebuild intimacy in a relationship: sometimes what is needed is not more togetherness but a reclamation of individual interiority. Your own interests, your own inner life, your own unshared thoughts. Not as a withdrawal from the relationship, but as a return to yourself within it.
The practical shift looks smaller than it sounds. It might mean pursuing a project your partner is not part of, without feeling you need to narrate it. Reading something that interests only you. Having an opinion you have not checked against theirs. Spending an hour doing something that is simply yours. These are not acts of distance. They are acts of becoming someone there is again something to encounter.
Alexandra Solomon, a relationship therapist and researcher at Northwestern University, writes about what she calls relational self-awareness: the ongoing practice of remaining genuinely curious about both yourself and your partner as people who are still evolving, still becoming. Not the finished versions of each other stored in memory. The living, changing people you still are. In some ways, this is the simplest possible description of what intimacy needs in order to survive the long term, and it is built not from doing more together but from staying in touch with who each of you is becoming.
How long does it take to rebuild intimacy in a relationship?
How long it takes to rebuild intimacy in a relationship is the question most couples want answered. And the honest answer is that it depends on three main things. First is how long the distance has been building. Second is how entrenched the patterns are. And third is whether both partners are genuinely oriented toward change, rather than simply hoping the other will change. There is no single timeline.
What the research does suggest is that small, consistent shifts accumulate faster than most couples expect. Gottman's work found that couples who reliably responded to each other's bids for connection, even imperfectly, even some of the time, began to notice a shift in emotional climate within a few weeks. Physical intimacy tends to follow more slowly, particularly when pressure or disappointment has been accumulating around it. Most couples find that rebuilding emotional safety takes two to four weeks of consistent attention; rebuilding physical desire tends to take longer, because desire is more sensitive to the nervous system's history with a particular dynamic.
The pace almost always slows when rebuilding intimacy in a relationship becomes something that is monitored rather than simply practiced. The shift from "are we getting better" to "am I genuinely here with this person right now" is not just a philosophical reframe. It changes the quality of every moment in the relationship.
The effects of long-term intimacy drift on each partner, including on self-worth, identity, and the impulse to reach, are covered in depth in our article on the effects of lack of intimacy. It can help to understand what has been affected before knowing what to attend to first.
When does rebuilding intimacy require professional support?
For many couples, the practices described in this article are enough to begin a meaningful shift. But there are patterns that tend to resist self-directed effort. And recognising them early before the distance has become the new normal, is one of the most useful things a couple can do.
The pursue-withdraw cycle, when it has been running for months or years, tends to be difficult to interrupt without a third party who can help both partners see the pattern from outside of it. Accumulated resentment, the quiet build-up of grievances that creates invisible emotional static, has a similar quality: it is hard to address through direct conversation without the conversation becoming another instance of the pattern it is trying to resolve. And when one or both partners have emotionally withdrawn from the relationship, the motivation to do the work of rebuilding intimacy may itself need to be explored before the work can begin.
Emotionally Focused Therapy, developed by Sue Johnson, has a strong and consistent evidence base for exactly this kind of relational drift. It works not on communication techniques but on the underlying attachment dynamics: the fears and needs that drive each partner's behaviour in the cycle. Many couples who come to EFT feeling stuck find that even a short course of sessions creates a shift that self-directed effort had not been able to produce.
Seeking support is not evidence that the relationship has failed. It is evidence that both people still care enough to want something better. That, more than almost anything else, is a reason for genuine optimism.
A closing thought
Rebuilding intimacy is not a project with a completion date. It is a reorientation, a decision to pay attention to what has been overlooked. It is staying curious about the person you are sharing your life with. And it is reaching for them in the small moments rather than waiting for the right conditions.
The distance between you did not arrive in a single moment. It accumulated through hundreds of small moments that passed without quite connecting. And it tends to close the same way. Through hundreds of small moments that do connect, that are met, that accumulate into something you can actually feel.
What to remember
#2 The most reliable practices are quieter than couples expect: meeting small bids for connection, sharing something honest rather than presentable, non-agenda touch that asks nothing, a brief weekly check-in.
#3 For physical intimacy, the sequence is ease first, then closeness, then desire. Not the other way around.
#4 The distance between you did not arrive in a single moment. It accumulated through hundreds of small moments that passed without connecting. It closes the same way.
Frequently asked questions (FAQ)
How do you rebuild intimacy in a relationship after it has faded
Rebuilding intimacy in a relationship tends to work best when it starts with small, consistent moments of genuine presence. This works better than grand gestures or formal conversations. Responding to your partner's small attempts to connect, sharing something honest about your inner experience, and reducing pressure around physical closeness are the three most consistent starting points. The shift from monitoring the relationship to being genuinely inside it tends to precede all other progress.
Can intimacy really be rebuilt after years of distance?
In most cases, yes. Particularly when the underlying bond is still intact and both partners are genuinely oriented toward change. Long-standing distance does tend to require more time and, often, professional support to shift. But the research is consistent: intimacy responds to accumulated small moments of responsiveness, not to dramatic interventions. Even couples with significant distance can feel a shift within weeks of consistent, low-pressure attention to each other.
What is the fastest way to rebuild intimacy?
There is no fast way to rebuild intimacy that is also genuine. The approaches that feel fastest such as scheduled sex, enforced quality time, direct conversations about how to fix things, tend to create pressure that makes the process slower. The most consistently effective approach is to restore the conditions. Ease, safety, and genuine curiosity. From those conditions, how to rebuild intimacy becomes less a question of method and more a question of orientation.
How do you rebuild intimacy when only one partner is trying?
This is one of the harder situations, and one where professional support tends to help significantly. When one partner is ready to rebuild and the other is not, the temptation is to try harder. This usually activates the pursue-withdraw cycle. The more useful approach is to make small, low-pressure bids for connection. Without expectation, to name the dynamic directly but without blame. And to invite rather than push. If one partner remains genuinely disengaged over time, couples therapy is the appropriate next step.
Does rebuilding intimacy mean going back to how things were?
Not usually, and trying to return to a previous version of the relationship often gets in the way. Rebuilding intimacy in a relationship tends to mean creating something slightly new. A connection that accounts for who both people are now, not who they were at the beginning. The goal is not restoration of a past state. The goal is to create conditions in which genuine closeness can exist in the present.
About the research
This article draws on work by John Gottman and Julie Gottman, Sue Johnson, Emily Nagoski, Rosemary Basson, Arthur Aron, Peggy Kleinplatz, David Schnarch, Alexandra Solomon, Esther Perel, Harriet Lerner, Brené Brown, Stephen Porges, and Deb Dana.
Written by the BetweenUs editorial team. We write about long-term relationships, intimacy, and desire, grounded in psychological research, without quick fixes.