by Stacy Bremner, MA, RP
As an Imago Relationship Therapist, I appreciate the many powerful tools that can help couples move from distress into greater peace, understanding, and connection. One of the most valuable concepts to understand, in order to change troublesome patterns, is Emotional Symbiosis. It can show up between romantic partners, parents and children, friends, colleagues, and even in brief interactions with strangers. If you have ever found yourself feeling anxious or disconnected when you experienced a lack of harmony or when you didn’t “get your own way”, you’ve probably encountered emotional symbiosis.
About Emotional Symbiosis
Emotional Symbiosis is an early developmental pattern where two people become so emotionally intertwined that difference feels threatening. The idea of symbiosis comes from Margaret Mahler’s developmental theory, where the infant begins life in a fused emotional state with the caregiver. Harville Hendrix later brought this concept into Imago Relationship Therapy, showing us how this early wiring can reappear in adult relationships when difference feels unsafe or destabilizing.
This early wiring shows up later in life as a powerful pull toward sameness: we need to feel the same, think the same, and want the same things, or else something feels wrong between us. When that happens, one or both people begin adjusting themselves — sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically — to maintain connection.
And truly, this isn’t a flaw. It’s simply how humans begin. We all start life fused with another nervous system, i.e. Mom, Dad, or other caregivers, and some of that wiring stays with us.
Everyday moments that reveal Emotional Symbiosis
Emotional Symbiosis often shows up in small, familiar moments where sameness feels like safety and difference feels like disconnection. It can sound like:
- “I can’t believe you think that!” — difference feels threatening.
- “If you loved me, you would know what I need.” — longing for emotional sameness.
- “You don’t listen to me.” — often said when the other person has listened, but doesn’t agree, and disagreement triggers anxiety.
- “I want us to be on the same page about this.” — sometimes meaning, “I’ve already written the page, and I’d love for you to sign it.”
- “There is only one way to fold towels.” — and somehow we’re convinced the universe agrees with us.
- “That was the most fun we have ever had!” — a fused moment of joy, assuming identical experience.
- “I feel terrible if you’re upset with me.” — collapsing into responsibility for the other person’s feelings.
And when things don’t go our way — when someone thinks differently, chooses differently, or simply has their own preference — we can become surprisingly distraught. Not because the issue itself is big, but because difference feels threatening and causes anxiety. The nervous system reacts as if connection is at risk. These moments aren’t signs of failure or immaturity. They’re echoes of early wiring, when sameness meant safety and love and difference felt like separation and neglect.
A personal example: the towels
My favourite example of where Emotional Symbiosis lives in me is around towels. I truly want the towels folded in thirds — you know, the way hotel towels are folded. I used to work at hotels in housekeeping, so I knew the “proper” way. But even before that, my mom folded towels in thirds. It has always made sense to me. They fit well in the closet, and they look tidy on the towel rack.
Other areas of my house are not perfectly organized at all times, but towels matter. And I suspect I will never let go of that preference.
So how do I handle this?
- I fold the towels myself, or
- I ask people in my home to fold them my way, explain why, and appreciate their efforts
But here’s the real moment of Emotional Symbiosis: when I open the closet and see a towel jammed in, or folded in quarters. There’s a tiny flash of disappointment or irritation — a quick inner story that sounds like, “They don’t care!” That’s the symbiotic moment: a wish wasn’t granted, and my nervous system reacts as if something relational is at stake. This is where I return to my breath.
I pause.
I notice the story.
I remind myself that the person who folded the towel has a brain that runs on autopilot sometimes too. They are not bad people. They are not rejecting me. They just stashed a towel the way they know best.
Do I bring it up later? Maybe. And if I do, humour and curiosity work far better than blame or accusation. It’s simply a preference — one tiny place where my early wiring shows up.
This is the gentle progression we’re aiming for to heal our ruptures:
first we learn about Emotional Symbiosis, then we notice where it shows up, then we own it, and then we soften and adjust — especially if our goal is better, safer connection and overall happiness.
What’s next?
Differentiation — the ability to stay connected while staying ourselves — allows us to say things like:
- “I see it differently, and I still want to understand you.”
- “I had fun. How was it for you?”
- “Tell me what you like about strawberry ice cream.”
- “Help me understand how you came to that belief.”
These small moments of curiosity are acts of love. They make room for the other person to exist as a separate being with their own preferences, history, and truth. And they make room for us to exist too.
Growing beyond Emotional Symbiosis isn’t about pulling away. It’s about learning to stay present without collapsing, to stay open without controlling, and to stay connected without requiring sameness. It’s the shift from fusion to relationship — from “we must be one” to “we can be two, and still be close.”
Questions to help explore the inner landscape
Do any of these examples ring true for you?
Do you recognize moments when sameness feels safer than difference?
Do you notice times when disagreement creates anxiety in your body?
If you’re wondering how to work with this, the first step is simply noticing when you and another person are at odds — and then getting curious about what’s underneath your reaction.
You might ask yourself:
- What is my need or intention right now?
- What is my fear?
- What am I telling myself about this situation or this person?
These questions help open a little space, to be intentional, and ideally allow enough room for two inner worlds to safely co-exist.
Without separateness, there is no curiosity.
Without curiosity, there is no discovery.
And without discovery, there is no real intimacy — only sameness.
In closing
In my next post, I’ll share a moment when I slipped into someone else’s emotional world—and how I quickly found my way back to myself without losing compassion for either one of us. I’d love to hear what this blog stirs in you, and I hope you’ll join me next week for part two of Symbiosis.