Great on holiday. Strangers on a Tuesday.
Key facts
You can be two men who love each other and still lie in the same bed like strangers, each waiting for the other to reach over first.
You're not fighting. That might almost be easier. You're just flat. Great on holiday, brilliant at a party, the couple your friends envy, and then strangers again by Tuesday.
Nothing is obviously wrong, which is part of what makes it so hard to talk about. You both keep busy. You keep it pleasant. And somewhere underneath, the aliveness that used to be between you has gone quiet, and neither of you quite knows when.
None of this is because you're gay. Being gay isn't the problem in the room. But the particular shapes this takes between two men, and what you each reach for instead of each other, are worth understanding properly.
When the charge between you fades, most couples don't sit in the quiet. They reach for something that brings it back.
For some couples that's opening the relationship up. Sometimes that's an honest, considered choice that works well. Sometimes it's a way of getting elsewhere what you've stopped giving each other, dressed up as freedom. The work isn't to close it. It's to be honest about what the openness is for, whether you're both telling the truth about it, and what happens to closeness and jealousy in the middle.
For some it's drugs. The weekend that loosens everything; the chemsex that can feel like the most connected you've been in months. The point isn't to put anyone on trial. It's to look at what the using reaches for, what it numbs, the closeness it borrows on Saturday and the distance it leaves on Wednesday.
For some it's the next trip. Another city, another booking, another stretch of feeling alive together, because abroad you're a couple again and at home you're flatmates who happen to be very good at logistics.
Open relationships, drugs, holidays: they look like different problems. Often they're the same move. Each one is a way of feeling something without having to turn back towards each other and ask why that got so hard.
I'm a BACP registered psychodynamic therapist, currently in advanced training at Tavistock Relationships, working with couples in Croydon. The work here isn't to take the openness, the drugs or the holidays away. It's to understand the quiet they're covering.
Because the quiet isn't nothing. It's usually full: of things that stopped being said, disappointments that got swallowed, a slow drift into being careful with each other. You each arrived in this relationship with a different sense of what closeness is safe, shaped by how you learned to attach long before you met.
So we look at what each of you is protecting when you turn away. What feels too dangerous to want out loud. What you're each afraid you'd find if you stopped filling the silence and actually looked at one another.
We won't just talk about it. The pattern that deadens things at home will show up here too, in the room, where we can finally see it and work with it instead of managing around it.
Couples work is its own discipline. It isn't individual therapy with two people in the room, and it isn't a referee handing out communication tips. I'm doing advanced couples training at Tavistock Relationships, the UK's leading centre for couple psychotherapy and where modern couples therapy in this country largely began.
It also matters that you don't have to start by explaining yourselves: what an open relationship is, what chemsex actually is, what it's like to be the couple everyone assumes is fine. I'm listed on the Pink Therapy directory, and we can begin from your actual life rather than from the basics.
Both of you come, together, because the relationship is the thing we're working with and it needs to be in the room. That training is also the reason a couples session is £100 rather than the £70 I charge for individual work: you're paying for someone trained specifically in what happens between two people.
Maybe you've been together years and somewhere along the way the spark went quiet. Maybe you're newly serious and already sense the pattern setting in. Maybe you're thinking about opening up, or you already have and it's more complicated than you let on. Maybe one of you uses and the other doesn't, and you've stopped knowing how to talk about it.
You don't need to have it diagnosed. You just need to know that being good on holiday and strangers at home isn't what you want, and that the things you reach for aren't bringing you back to each other.
We meet in person at my Croydon practice, near East Croydon station and Reeves Corner. Men come from Croydon, South Croydon, Purley, Wallington, and nearby parts of South London. I don't offer online couples therapy: both of you attend together, in the room, because that's where the relationship can actually be worked with.

Couples Therapy for Gay Men
£100 per 50-minute session
Your first session is 90 minutes, so we have proper time to understand what brings you here. It's £150, paid upfront through the booking system. After that, ongoing sessions are invoiced monthly by email.
You know all the words now. Gaslighting. Narcissist. Triggered. Boundaries. And somehow your relationships still aren't working.
The Roses opens in couples therapy. They're asked to name ten things they love about each other. What the film gets wrong is the response.