When a bond I was trying to make in the lab wasn't working, pushing harder on the obvious variables - like increasing the concentration of starting material or indiscriminately cranking up the heat - was usually not the way to go. I had to take a step back and think about the system overall. There were often half a dozen variables to consider for any given reaction: solvent, reagent, stereochemistry, order of addition, and protecting groups, for example.
I can assure you that no matter how much I yelled at my chemical reactions, they did not perform better!
In my clinical experience, marriages that have gone cold look a lot like that. Each person has defaulted to pushing on the same one or two variables over and over - like arguing their case harder, getting defensive, or criticizing - and the emotions involved make it difficult to take a step back and think big-picture about what else might be needed.
Underneath, what has often eroded is the foundation of psychological safety: the safety to say something real without it being held against you, and to have your partner hear and understand you without feeling threatened. Intimacy involves vulnerability, and if you don't feel safe to open up, it's hard to get close.
So instead of trying harder, here are five conditions you can change. I draw a parallel with molecular bonding because the same habits of mind a scientist uses in lab apply to fixing a stuck marriage.
In lab, the solvent is the liquid that dissolves the starting materials and helps create an environment where the reaction can succeed. If I use the wrong solvent, it can prevent a bond from forming.
The solvent of marriage is the water you're swimming in. It can show up as an unconscious filter you're wearing - a habit that you inadvertently developed. In cold marriages, that filter has become criticism and scanning for mistakes. A bond is not going to form in that solvent.
Sometimes we are looking for specific gestures, like more hugs or initiation, in order to feel loved and desired. That can create a filter that blocks out other ways our partner might be expressing love. One man complimented his wife on a red dress she was thinking of packing for a trip with him. In the moment, she only said "hmm." But the next morning, she came to him talking about the jewelry she might wear with it. She had decided to bring it because she'd heard his comment and thought wearing it would make him happy. If he had been counting hugs as the only evidence of her care, he would have missed it.
In lab, the same ingredients added in a different order can give you a different product - or an explosion. At home, when your partner brings you something they're upset about, if you answer with logic about why they shouldn't be upset before helping them feel understood, they are likely to feel less connected to you, or it could blow up into an argument. This is why doing what seems good-hearted, like trying hard to make your partner feel better, doesn't go the way you expect.
The same principle can apply to a marriage overall. In a sex-starved marriage, a helpful move can be to take sex off the table, on purpose, for a set period. Men who are the higher-desire partner find this counterintuitive. But if psychological safety has eroded and touch has started to read as pressure for more, then more touch or asking harder is unlikely to work. It's more effective to reestablish non-sexual connection and open communication first. There's a lot of nuance to this practice, and I don't recommend trying it without guidance.
One man told his wife he was taking sex off the table for the month, and she started cuddling up with him on the couch again, taking his hand, and even starting a conversation about their sex life. Afterward, he told me they had more sex in the next few months than they'd had in years.
In chemistry, the same atoms with the same connections can be arranged differently in space. The wrong arrangement has big consequences: you get a different product from what you wanted, or a bond can't form at all.
In a relationship, this is the "shape" you're in when you turn toward your partner. My teacher Terry Real calls the repelling shapes losing strategies: needing to be right, control, retaliation, unbridled self-expression, and withdrawal. We tend to default to these without realizing it, and when we do, we're in a shape that makes it harder to get what we want. With winning strategies, you can still want the same thing. You're just in a shape that's more conducive to bonding.
One man noticed that when his partner was upset, he used to defend himself or minimize the problem. He learned instead to stay centered and validate what she was feeling, without needing to agree with it. In one tense moment he said, "That sounds really frustrating." He didn't change his mind about the issue; he changed the shape he was in. He felt her soften, and she thanked him for understanding her.
Sometimes "rekindle" is not a metaphor. A marriage can feel too safe, as in stagnant or boring, and then you need a little spark and differentiation. Esther Perel puts it simply: fire needs air. That can look like bringing in separateness, adventure, or play - getting into your bodies together and doing something new, rather than holding another logistics meeting. It can also look like taking intentional time apart so you start to miss each other.
In lab, heat applied skillfully opens a pathway that wasn't available before, while too much applied carelessly can burn everything up. In a marriage, turning up the heat can also mean taking the risk to have the hard conversation, or to reveal what's on your heart.
One couple I worked with felt like roommates - two people managing work, kids, and logistics, with no charge left between them. He invited her back to a yoga class they had both loved years earlier, with brunch in the park afterward, and started a rhythm of dates that got them into their bodies together, like sunset hikes and sailing. He also took the risk to open a conversation about sex and what they both liked. Their love life came back without the old playbook of pressure and performance.
A catalyst lowers the barrier to a reaction without being consumed overall. In a marriage, a catalyst can be a coach, a therapist, or a relationship skill that, once learned, keeps working. Couples often treat outside help as evidence of failure, but in chemistry, using a catalyst is just what you do when that's what the reaction requires.
One man I worked with was highly successful in his public life but privately struggling in his marriage. Twelve weeks later, he told me: "I just saw my wife like she was 20 years ago - there was a newness and innocence in relating. We lost that through the years of kids, work, and stress."
The Authority Magazine interview goes further into forgiveness, being a team rather than "just a couple," and the books and podcasts I recommend. You can read it here: Jessica Gold of Bliss Science On Falling In Love Again With Your Spouse.
The Chemistry Experiment is a free three-audio series built around the highest-leverage points in a relationship.
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Dr. Jessica Gold is a Relationship Chemist (PhD, UC Berkeley; B.S., MIT; neuroscience postdoc, UCSF) and the founder of Bliss Science. She works with post-exit founders, STEM leaders, and high-net-worth couples. Gottman Leader, ICF PCC, certified in Relational Life Therapy and applied neuroscience. TEDx speaker.
Why do marriages go cold?
In my experience, each partner has usually defaulted to pushing on the same one or two things over and over, like arguing their case harder, getting defensive, or criticizing. Underneath, the foundation of psychological safety has often eroded, so neither person feels safe enough to be vulnerable, and closeness becomes hard.
How do you rekindle love in a marriage that has gone cold?
Change the conditions rather than trying harder at the same things. The five I look at are the filter you're seeing your partner through (the solvent), the order you do things in, the shape you're in when you turn toward your partner, adding some heat through adventure or a hard conversation, and bringing in a catalyst like a coach or a repair skill.
Should we take sex off the table to fix a sex-starved marriage?
It can help, when touch has started to feel like pressure. Taking sex off the table for a set period, while you rebuild non-sexual connection and open communication, can let desire return without pressure. There's a lot of nuance to this, so I don't recommend trying it without guidance.
We feel like roommates. Can the spark come back?
Often, yes. Couples who feel like roommates have usually lost play, adventure, and their identity as lovers under the weight of work, kids, and logistics. Doing new things together in your bodies, spending some intentional time apart, and taking the risk to talk openly about what you both want can bring the charge back.
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