Residents of Asheville, North Carolina, and Lahaina, Maui, are still trying to rebuild their lives after their cities were decimated by extreme weather—a tropical storm in Asheville and a wildfire in Lahaina—in 2023. Meanwhile, residents of Los Angeles County have barely begun rebuilding, after numerous fires in January forced tens of thousands to evacuate and burned 11,500 homes. The estimated cost of all of these disasters is set to exceed $300 billion.

But those numbers only consider the costs of such things as cleanup, rebuilding, lost income, and businesses—they don’t consider the impacts on our relationships, especially romantic ones. While those relational costs are harder to measure, experts say it’s important that we pay more attention to them.

Studies of the impact of natural disasters over the years all indicate that in the beginning of a crisis, individuals and communities tend to come together and help each other. There’s a feeling of solidarity, what has been called catastrophe compassion.

“But after a while, that social support often deteriorates,” says Dana Garfin, an associate professor at UCLA’s Fielding School of Public Health who researches how life events and collective traumas such as natural disasters and climate-related hazards impact individuals and communities over time.

And that’s when things can become challenging for friends, neighbors, families, and couples.

“The question is, do [natural disasters] help or hinder relationships and the answer is, yes,” says Debbie C. Sturm, an assistant professor of counseling at James Madison University who specializes in working with survivors of trauma.

“The place where it starts to get interesting is over time, after the initial intensity of the crisis has happened and now you’re waiting to get your roof fixed or trying to piece your life together or your kids aren’t in school yet, the disillusionment phase that happens even before the real recovery begins, and it can become a big dip,” she tells me.

“Even the healthiest relationships are going to feel the stress of that. So, relationships that already have vulnerabilities are going to feel extra vulnerable.” Sturm calls that the “emotional life cycle of disaster.” Indeed, some experts predict that climate change will likely lead to a lot more divorces around the globe. There’s a lot of talk about re-designing buildings and communities that survive a changed climate. Should we be asking the same kinds of questions about our relationships?

The Mental health toll of disaster

Joan Tanzer has seen that firsthand. The Aptos, California, resident says it took 15 years for her to fully feel like her life was back together after she and her family were forced to flee their home in the Oakland Hills in 1991 when a fire decimated their Northern California neighborhood. She has since been a source of information and support to others who’ve experienced wildfires. Her advice? “Kiss your hubby a lot.”

“Really, you’ve got to take care of yourself and your twosome. I really think that that got overlooked,” she shared with KQED. “We had a support group afterwards. There were 13 of us, seven divorces.”

Numerous studies show that the emotional toll after natural disasters can lead to such things as depression and anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, substance abuse, suicide, and outbreaks of violence, all of which will strain relationships. Going through one natural disaster is hard enough—experiencing two or more compounds the issue, and researchers predict a sharp rise in Mental health issues resulting from the climate crisis in the coming years. As a 2023 report by the United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change warned, climate-fueled disasters are already worse than scientists had predicted.

“Certainly as we enter this phase where these disasters are going to be more frequent and more severe, we’re going to likely see cumulative tolls on our Mental health,” Garfin says.

Renée Funk, who formerly managed hurricane response teams for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention during Hurricane Katrina in 2005, acknowledged that mental illness is a long-term effect of natural disasters, amounting to a hidden public health epidemic.

“People have trouble coping with the new normal after a storm. Many have lost everything, including their jobs. Some may have lost loved ones, and now they have to rebuild their lives. They’re faced with a lot of barriers, including mental illness itself,” Funk told Stateline.

Economic and social disruption affects relationships

The loss of male employment after Hurricane Katrina was a major stressor on low-income mothers in New Orleans, according to a 2012 study.

The unemployed men who were used to being the breadwinners felt emasculated, which created tension in relationships. Some couples had to live far apart from each other for prolonged periods, often because one of them relocated to find work, which led some to divorce or break up. Other women saw their relationship fall apart because of behavioral changes in their male partner, such as anger, depression, or abusive language, or increased alcohol or substance use. (While a majority of the 40 women in the study said Katrina had a disruptive impact on their relationship, near half said after the initial stresses, their relationship got better after they found their economic footing.)

Those who live in disaster-stricken communities experience fewer social activities with friends, relatives, neighbors, and community organizations, sometimes because they downplay or ignore their feelings or because they start to avoid others, a 2004 study found, leading the researchers to conclude that recovery often is a “very lonely and isolating process.” They continue:

Physical fatigue, emotional irritability, scarcity of resources, the ongoing social pressures and unending chain of continuing burden of recovery enhance the potential for competition and interpersonal conflicts.

And those interpersonal conflicts may lead to relationship fractures. That’s what researchers found in the aftermath of Hurricane Hugo, which hit South Carolina in 1989. While there was an uptick in marriages and births, there also was a jump in divorces. “Life-threatening events lead people to take stock of their lives, reevaluate their futures, reevaluate their current situations, and it might motivate them to make some change,” they write.

According to Penn State assistant professor Catherine L. Cohan, the lead author of the study, “disasters can lead to Mental health problems, which, in turn can cause marital conflict and feeling more negative about one’s marriage. In addition, the stressors in the aftermath of a disaster, for example, lost jobs, lost homes, and debt, can directly lead to marital conflict.”

Gender may also play a role, although results are mixed. Several studies conclude that women suffer more adverse effects and lower resilience than men after disasters, in part because of health and socioeconomic inequities. Since women also tend to be the main caregivers in their family, they often have “increased responsibilities in meeting household needs and protecting themselves and their families,” causing them to have ongoing, chronic anxiety about their family’s health and safety, suggests a 2020 study.

It could be, however, that women are more likely to report their emotional strains than men do, Garfin says.

That said, there often is an increase in domestic violence in the aftermath of a disaster, notes Alyssa Banford Witting, an associate professor at Brigham Young University who studies trauma and recovery in individuals, families, and communities affected by natural disaster. “Women should be aware that if they are facing violence or intense conflict already, it may increase in the aftermath of a disaster and seeking help, support, and safety now is critical.”

If the stress of a natural disaster ends up leading a couple to split and there are minor children involved, it could lead to a double crisis for them—first by the disaster, then by the divorce.

As Banford Witting tells me by email: “Disasters reveal, enhance, and highlight existing stressors, or lack of resources. If a couple has issues in their relationship dynamic, or trauma in their past, the effect on these things of the relationship might be exacerbated by a disaster or other major stress.”

The road to recovery

The Hurricane Harvey study suggests that future research might focus on identifying how long it takes couples to recover after a natural disaster—early intervention may keep them from further relationship struggles.

But therapists are not keeping up with climate-related Mental health issues, Strum said. In fact, a 2023 study found that most Mental health counselors don’t believe they are well-equipped to help their clients deal with psychological distress created by climate change, especially if they have experienced repeated natural disasters.

“The big issue right now is this kind of cascading, compounding stressors that we’re experiencing in this era,” says Garfin. “These events go far beyond the people who are immediately impacted. People are watching this on social media, the news, and they know people. People who might be more indirectly exposed or who are exposed via the media may also be having Mental health effects, as well.”

So what, if anything, can couples do to not only prepare for a natural disaster but also to think about what recovery might be like?

Sturm suggests couples make this part of their relationship conversations, acknowledging that even if they don’t think that they will be hit by a natural disaster, none of us really know what the future holds. Asheville residents most likely thought that they were pretty safe, until Hurricane Helene hit. And if they do live in a place that has already experienced a natural disaster, or are in an area that scientists predict is likely to experience one, then it might be time to have some hard conversations.

Banford Witting suggests couples address the practicalities:

Where would we go if an earthquake/fire hit? Who would pick up the kids if they are at school? What neighbors can we coordinate with? Who in our neighborhood is vulnerable and might need our help in the event of a disaster? Where should we meet if cell service is disrupted and we can’t call each other? What kind of food storage can we create that makes sense for our family, that we can afford, and that we can replace regularly? Where could we pack up and keep easy-to-grab-and-carry 72-hour kits for each member of the family? What makes the most sense for us to have in a 72-hour kit in our climate? Where should we access clean water if our community source goes out?

If those conversations and preparations are not happening with the urgency they deserve, she suggests, that might be because couples and families may not be “getting enough guidance and support. “This leads to the question of who should be educating, guiding, and supporting families,” she says. “We know that local-scale preparedness efforts are important. So, we might conclude that the more that local government, community, religious, educational, and other institutions that are close to families’ day-to-day lives can help inform them of risk and preparedness needs, the better.”

It’s also important to expect that while there will be a lot of compassion and help in the beginning, it eventually will taper off and stop. Then disillusionment can set in, but survivors often find solace and strength in their family and community.

“Until that wears off, too. When recovery takes longer, that’s when the cracks start to show,” Sturm says. “What we learn from disaster survivors over and over is that community is the most important element that they experience. Their neighbors. For me, that means we need to do a lot of community work in our communities and create these pockets of connection.”

That, and encouraging what’s known as grit—someone’s ability to show up even in challenging times such as a natural disaster. Experiencing previous traumas can lessen one’s grit, however, which can impact a couple’s attachment behaviors. As Banford Witting says:

Most people don’t end up with PTSD or other lasting Mental health problems in the aftermath of disaster. Those that do tend to have distress in their relationships, or prior (potentially unresolved) traumatic stress in their lives. The implication here is that one aspect of disaster preparedness is simply addressing harmful patterns in our relationships through therapy or education and seeking support (and again, possibly therapy) for unresolved traumatic stress.

All of which means that talking about how happy and healthy your relationship is should be part of having a disaster preparedness plan.

“Don’t be afraid to have these conversations in your family,” Sturm says. “Anytime couples are willing to be open to talk about vulnerabilities and come together around a plan, it strengthens them. It’s really nice evidence that they’re in it together.”