Not long ago, I worked with a couple who had been married for over two decades and were on the verge of separating.

For the past three years, almost every disagreement between them would spiral until one or both of them raised the word divorce. Not as a calm or considered conversation, but as an exhausted exclamation at the end of yet another unresolved argument.

When I first spoke to the wife, she told me that it felt like they were caught in a loop. That no matter how hard they tried, they always ended up back at the same place.
“It is like we have both given up on trying to reach any sort of resolution,” she said.
“And when we cannot get anywhere, it just feels like there is no other option than to get divorced.”

I spoke with the husband separately.
It was clear that things had become painful between them.
There had been unkindness. Distance. Patterns of blame and withdrawal.
But beneath all of that, there was something else too.
They did not want to separate. They just did not know how to stop hurting each other.

As we spoke more, something important emerged. They were not simply clashing as individuals. They were also bringing two very different emotional blueprints into the relationship.

Her parents had fought often and loudly. Conflict in her childhood home was full of shouting and doors slamming. One parent eventually left.
His home had been quieter. But the silence was tense. Conversations were clipped. Emotions were swallowed. The children had grown up walking on eggshells.

Neither of them had seen what healthy conflict looked like.
Neither of them had learned how to stay in conversation without spiralling or shutting down.
They did not lack love. They lacked tools.
And after years of going round in circles, they had started to believe that the only way out was through divorce.

What they needed was not a decision.
They needed a way to pause. To listen. To speak without being pulled into the same old dynamics.
They needed a conversation that did not collapse.
And they needed someone neutral who could help them rebuild trust, not just in each other, but in the very idea that talking could help.

This is where the Magic Three comes in.
Clarity. Communication. Correction.

These are not quick fixes. They are steady, learnable skills that can hold us when things feel unsteady.

Clarity is about understanding what is really going on beneath the surface. Not just what is said, but what is felt. The fear, the longing, the shame, the stuckness. So often we are fighting about the symptoms, not the cause.

Communication is not about saying everything perfectly. It is about being honest and connected. Saying the thing that matters, without trying to win. Listening to hear, not just to reply.

Correction is the most quietly powerful of the three. It is the moment someone realises they can change direction mid-sentence. They can soften their tone, pause before replying, or repair something that landed badly. It is the act of choosing to come back to intention, rather than continuing in reaction.

What I see again and again is that most people are not trying to hurt each other.
They are trying to protect themselves.
From loss. From shame. From the pain of feeling unheard.
And that fear can make us say things we do not mean, or act in ways that do not reflect who we really are.

This does not mean repair is impossible.
It means we must become curious about what we were trying to protect – and what we are willing to learn.

These conversations are not easy.
They are rarely neat or polished.
But they can be transformative.

Sometimes, the relationships that feel furthest from repair are the ones that have simply never been given the right kind of support.
Not to decide whether to stay or go – but to rediscover what it means to speak with clarity, to listen with care, and to feel safe enough to be honest again.

There is no perfect moment. No single conversation that makes everything better.
But there is a way through.
And often, it begins with a different kind of conversation.

One that is less about deciding, and more about discovering what is still possible.