By Ari Sotiriou M.A. Couples Therapist
Photo credit Ekaterina Mitkina @Pexels
In the consulting room, whether with individuals or couples, a recurring theme often emerges: the slow, painful shift from romantic ease to strained connection after children arrive. Clients speak of disconnection, unmet expectations, a fading sense of intimacy. Something has changed — and they don’t quite know what.
I often offer them a simple yet radical idea: the romantic relationship that existed before becoming parents comes to a natural end. In its place, two new relationships emerge. The first is a parental relationship — a bond that will endure for the sake of the child, whether or not the couple remain together. The second is a new romantic relationship, one that begins afresh and needs to be nurtured under entirely new conditions.
From the perspective of British Psychoanalytic Theory, especially with Freud’s Oedipal complex in mind, this transition can be better understood not as a failure, but as a complex developmental milestone — one that requires mourning, differentiation, and reparation.
The Early Romantic Bond: A Space of Play
Before parenthood, the romantic relationship functions as a private dyad — an erotic, emotional, and often narcissistically gratifying bond. It offers a transitional space — what Winnicott called “a potential space between the individual and the environment” — where lovers can explore identity, projection, fantasy, and mutual idealisation.
This space, like all transitional phenomena, is fragile. It is not meant to withstand the structural reorganisation that comes with the arrival of a child. And yet many couples cling to the fantasy that their old relationship will continue untouched.
The Birth of a Child: A Psychic Reorganisation
The arrival of a child does more than expand a family — it restructures the internal and relational worlds of each parent.
Suddenly, the dyad is a triad. Libido is redirected. Fantasies and identifications are stirred. For many, this moment activates early unconscious configurations — particularly those related to the Oedipal complex.
Freud and the Return of the Oedipal Configuration
Freud described the Oedipus complex as “the nuclear complex of neuroses,” involving a child’s love for one parent and rivalry with the other. In adulthood, the transition to parenthood can reactivate this triangle from the other side — not as a child, but as a parent.
The father may find himself displaced, no longer the focus of the mother’s attention. The mother, preoccupied with the baby, may experience her partner as an intrusive figure. The child, idealised and omnipotent in their dependence, symbolically inhabits the centre of the couple’s psychic and emotional life.
As John Steiner observed in his work on psychic retreats, couples often unconsciously collude to avoid the anxiety this new configuration evokes — retreating from erotic life, splitting roles rigidly, or avoiding conflict entirely.
Clinical Vignette: Mourning the Couple That Was
James and Hannah, both in their late thirties, came to therapy six months after the birth of their second child. They described themselves as “great teammates” but admitted their romantic life had evaporated. “We don’t even argue,” Hannah said. “We just pass the baton back and forth.”
As we explored further, it became clear that they mourned — silently — the intensity and eroticism of their early relationship. James spoke of how “Hannah used to light up when I walked into the room.” Hannah admitted, “Back then, I felt like a woman. Now I just feel like a mother.”
Together, we began to map out the idea that the romantic relationship they once had was not dormant — it was over. And in its place, two new relationships had emerged. “The parenting relationship,” I explained, “is now the constant. The romantic relationship needs to be built again — not resumed, but begun anew.”
The turning point came when Hannah said: “You mean we don’t need to get back to who we were — we need to discover who we are now?”
Two Relationships, Two Tasks
I often encourage clients to think of these relationships as follows:
1. The Parental Relationship
This is a permanent alliance. It requires coordination, communication, mutual respect, and a commitment to co-parenting. Even if the romantic bond falters, the parental bond must remain intact — for the psychological safety of the child.
As Winnicott reminds us, “there is no such thing as an infant” — there is only an infant and their caregiver. The psychological environment parents create together is as vital as food and shelter.
2. The New Romantic Relationship
This is not a continuation, but a new beginning. It will likely be less spontaneous, less idealised, more grounded — and if nurtured, more profound. It must be protected from being swallowed by the demands of parenting. It needs time, imagination, and intentionality.
As Wilfred Bion might frame it, this new relationship requires a “container” — a mental space where frustration, longing, and erotic rediscovery can be metabolised without acting out or withdrawal.
The Cost of Confusion
When couples do not distinguish these two relationships, confusion and resentment flourish.
The partner becomes “just a parent.” Erotic life stalls. Roles harden. Affairs sometimes emerge not from lust, but from a desperate attempt to resurrect a lost self.
When one partner refuses to relinquish the fantasy of the old relationship, the other may feel trapped — unable to grieve, unable to move forward.
As Donald Meltzer wrote, “Growth always involves mourning the loss of previous forms.” Couples need permission to mourn their pre-child relationship in order to create space for something new.
Therapeutic Tasks: Naming, Differentiating, Mourning
In therapy, whether working with couples or individuals, one of the most powerful interventions is simply naming what has happened. “You are no longer in the relationship you once had,” I might say. “And that isn’t your fault. It’s a developmental milestone.”
From there, we can differentiate:
What does your parental relationship need to function well? What does your romantic relationship need to grow? What needs to be mourned? What can be created?
Conclusion: Loving Across the Divide
To love as a parent is to be responsible. To love as a romantic partner is to be vulnerable. These two forms of love can support each other — but they require different mental spaces, different psychic tasks.
British Psychoanalytic Theory teaches us that adult life is not about eradicating conflict, but bearing ambivalence. Becoming a parent asks us to live with complexity: to lose and to gain, to let go and to hold on, to move from one relationship into two — and keep both alive.
As therapists, we are invited to help clients tolerate these shifts, name them, mourn them, and reimagine themselves within them.
The work is slow, often painful, and always human.
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