Look, man, when I first saw the title, “How to make a Pisces Man and Pisces Woman relationship work? 3 Easy Steps!” I laughed. Straight up. Because “easy” is the last word you use for that kind of disaster. You got two people whose emotions are a tidal wave, they’re both convinced they’re psychic, and neither one can remember to take out the trash, let alone pay the electric bill. It’s pure, beautiful, frustrating chaos.
But the thing is, I’ve been there. Not in the romance part, thank God, but I lived through the fallout. I was the guy standing on the shore with the megaphone, trying to tell the two drowning idiots how to grab a life raft.
If you ask the horoscope sites, they give you some flowery nonsense about ‘deep connection’ and ‘soulmates.’ They’re not wrong about the connection, but they leave out the part where two souls merge so completely they forget they need car insurance. So, yeah, I developed my own steps, not the ones you find in some magazine. These are battle-tested, real-life, get-your-sht-together steps.
The General Mess and the Pivot
Every Pisces-Pisces couple I’ve ever seen operates in a dream world. They create a perfect little bubble where real-life logistics don’t exist. They spend all their time validating each other’s deepest feelings, which means they never actually solve anything. Everything is hinted at, nothing is said clearly. It’s exhausting just to watch.
I saw it play out with my old college buddy, Mark, and his girlfriend, Leah. Both peak Pisces. They could finish each other’s sentences, cry watching the same commercial, and tell you what the other one was thinking. It was cute until they hit a wall. A massive, financial, rent-overdue wall.
This is how I know the real steps.
It was a few years back. I had just landed a decent contract gig, finally getting some stability. I remember getting a frantic call from Mark, total tears, sounding like the world ended. I drove over there, thinking someone died. Nope. They just got an eviction notice. Not because they didn’t have money, but because neither one remembered to physically transfer the money or check the mail. They both assumed the other one ‘felt’ the need to do it. Seriously.
I walked into their place and the situation was nuts. They were sitting on the floor, surrounded by candles and crystals, holding hands, talking about how ‘the universe was testing them,’ while the notice was taped to the fridge. They were paralyzed by their own overwhelming shared emotion. It was ridiculous, but also heartbreaking because they genuinely loved each other. They just sucked at being adults.
I didn’t offer emotional support. I offered a clipboard and a calendar. I decided right there I was going to be their temporary life manager until they learned to paddle their own boat. My practice was essentially forcing them to be less Piscean, at least for three hours a week.
My Practice: Forcing Structure into a Feeling
Here are the steps I practically hammered into their heads, straight out of my little notebook.
- Step 1: Separate the Money and the Drama.
I sat them down and opened separate bank accounts. I literally had to drive them to the bank. Their income was going to two different pots. Mark was responsible for the rent and utilities, zero exceptions. Leah was responsible for groceries and transportation. We set up an automatic transfer for half the rent from Leah’s account to Mark’s, non-negotiable. I took away their shared credit card and cut it up. The rule was: You cannot discuss finances using feelings. You use the spreadsheet I made for you. I forced Mark to download a budget app and set an alarm for bill due dates. It stripped away the ‘mystical’ element of paying bills. It worked because it was too structured to ignore. They hated it, but they paid rent that month.
- Step 2: Build a Communications Wall.
Their communication was a mess. It was all passive-aggressive sighs and ‘I thought you knew’ statements. This is the killer for a P-P pair. I made them institute a ‘No Vague Statements’ rule. If you want something, you have to use a verb and a time. Not “It would be nice if the kitchen was cleaner, maybe,” but “Can you clean the counter before dinner tonight?” If you felt misunderstood, you had to say, “I feel misunderstood,” not just pout and hope the other one felt the ‘vibe.’ It forced them to navigate conflict with words, not with shared trauma bonding. It was ugly at first. They argued more, but at least the arguments were about real things, not imagined slights.
- Step 3: Get Your Own Goddamn Island.
They were too enmeshed. They were like one big, moody person. Their identities had completely merged, which meant when one felt bad, the other felt worse, and no one could pull them out. I made them get hobbies that the other person couldn’t join. Mark started taking a basic carpentry class. Leah started volunteering at a local animal shelter. They had to spend a mandatory four hours a week completely separate. When they came back, they actually had something different to talk about. Not just rehashing the same emotional loop, but real-world stuff that mattered only to them. It gave them an actual sense of self outside of the relationship. They were terrifyingly co-dependent, and I drove a wedge in that dependency. A healthy wedge.
The Outcome
Did they magically become hyper-efficient earth signs? Nah. They’re still Pisces. They still cry during happy movies. But the practice worked. They learned that a relationship built on feeling needs a foundation of steel girders, not just water. They’re still together, four years later. The drama is minimal. They have a shared wall calendar and they actually check their bank balances. It took aggressive intervention, but that’s the real secret to making that kind of relationship work: one of them, or a practical outsider, needs to force some structure on the chaos until they internalize it. Now Mark even sets my reminders for me sometimes. Who saw that coming?
It wasn’t easy steps. It was hard labor. But it got them off the floor and into the real world. That’s my practice record, straight up.
