Do you have a fight every time your husband comes home from a trip away? I used to always feel resentful when my husband walked in the door. I shared my feelings with friends, and it seems I am not alone.

When we were apart, we would get along like new lovers; sending messages, sharing our longings and deep feelings of connection. Even when his plane touched down or he called me from his cab, my body would become more alert as if it had a small electric current going through it. Then, he would walk through the door, and the current would switch from warm to cool in an instant. He would ask for a hug and I could feel myself tensing and pulling away. I didn't know whether to fight or cry.

Over the years I have begun to make some sense of it. The clue was the sensation of wanting to fight or cry. What we are talking about is the activation of a survival mechanism that is deeply embedded in our system. As infants, we are wired to bond with our caretakers, in a variety of ways. Two main categories of bonding are secure or insecure. We can be insecure in myriad ways, with myriad circumstances, and people. But when we are separated, our is activated by a of loss of the . The avoidant insecure person will learn to put their longings aside, to believe that they are not lovable, and learn to "survive" the separation and get on without support, the way they have always managed. These "survival" modes happen unconsciously. The survival mechanism does two things: It keeps one from feeling the pain of separation, using distraction, and prevents overwhelming the other with our pain and rage, thereby increasing the chances of our caregiver coming back and improving our chances of feeling safe again.

But when your partner comes home, fears are activated: You don't love me anymore, I am not lovable, and others are more interesting than I am. And arises, who else to blame but the person who caused the feelings?

But did they make us feel this way?

In the scenario, where our partner leaves us for some time, our insecurities are triggered. If you have a secure bond, this scenario may never register for you. Your partner leaves, he/she returns, and you are able to share your longings. He will receive them without feeling threatened, and there is nothing but a warm longing, a loving connection, and a tender reconnection.

When my husband traveled six months of the year, we had three children at home. They ranged from 5 to newborn. Although we both had professional lives and healthy social lives, I was jealous when he went away. I was jealous of the time he was having with other people, as well as the time other people were getting with my husband. It reminded me of the moments when I had my mother's full and she would be called away to work or to be with friends.

"Survival mode" is how women describe those days, and sometimes weeks, by themselves, with the husband away. They talk of "holding the fort". Highly educated women feel like they are literally battling for their survival. Biologically, they are. And most of our fights are the result of feeling like we have been surviving. But anger is not a helpful attempt to regain intimacy; for some of us, it's how we manage and fear. The fight is for survival.

How can this be changed? Apart from waiting for the children to grow up and leave home?

Several years ago, I joined a group of women to discuss and and in our discussion about relationships, the of the group taught me something important, which I have practiced for several years.

Over time, I have seen this practice change the way I feel about separations but more profoundly how I feel about my . Here is what she said:

Each time you or your partner leaves the house, the experiences you have throughout the day, cause you to change in some way. The partner who returns in the evening is no longer quite the same partner he was in the morning. Your partner makes a choice to come home. Your partner makes myriad choices about where he might like to be at the end of the day. When your partner walks through that door, greet him, with those things in mind, make him feel that he is the only person in the world that matters at that moment.

This is a creative way to help us manage separation, use our imagination to help regulate our activated nervous system. In the words of Marion Solomon, learning that my husband can be a secure base for me instead of a threat is important. We all come into the world organized to connect to a caretaker, a safe place from where we can manage the emotional and physical challenges around us.

Where our early relationships have "failed" us in one way or another, we are prone to be re-activated in our . Despite our history, "in relationships that work, partners are able to hold and contain the vulnerable underbelly that yearns for a warm hand and loving heart." (p.33, Solomon, and Tatkin).

Source: Genevieve David

The good news is that our bonding systems are developed in infancy, so it takes time to change, but "committed partners with early histories that are problematic can repair the past together" (p. 3, Solomon, and Tatkin).

I never pretend that any intervention works perfectly every time. But as we know an injection is going to hurt briefly, so it makes it possible to receive one, being aware that I may tense up when he walks through the door allows me to stay present to what is happening and not make the sensation anything more than it is, just tensing up.

I make a choice to stay present to the experience, aware that both of us have undergone changes while he was away and welcome him in a way that acknowledges real joy and that he is home.