A lot of the hardest seasons in our marriage weren’t because we didn’t love each other. They were because we were living out what we had learned about how a man relates to his wife…and it wasn’t always healthy, balanced, protective or gentle.
There were years when I had to be strong in ways I was never meant to be. I stepped outside of my role as a helpmeet and carried things that shouldn’t have been mine to carry. I’ve always had an independent personality — those seasons made me even more so.
But here’s the part I don’t skip over anymore: There was a time early in our marriage when I exploited my husband’s greatest character strength; his empathy. He feels deeply. Every emotion I carry, he carries. What I feel, he mirrors. It’s something I later came to understand.
But before I understood, I mishandled it. I grew up learning how to relate to men by watching my father. My dad was a command-type man, strong and direct. You didn’t push him. He carried himself with authority. That was my framework.
So when I married a man whose strength wasn’t command — but compassion — I didn’t know what to do with that.
And instead of recognizing it as a strength, I tested it. I pushed it. At times, I ran him into the ground emotionally. And the hardest part? I knew it.
I knew in my heart I was hurting him. I didn’t want to destroy him — but I also didn’t yet understand him. It took me years to realize that just because he didn’t respond as my father would have, it didn’t mean he was weak. If anything, I now believe he is stronger.
Beneath what you see on the surface is a deep well of emotion. And wells run deep. They hold more than you realize.
You cannot expect to learn how to relate to someone who is completely different from you in a short amount of time. It takes years. It takes humility. It takes failure.
I made so many mistakes. I have regrets. I stepped out of my role more times than I can count. And still do! And yet — here is the part that humbles me most: He forgave me. Over and over again.
If there is a true strength in our marriage, it’s not my searching for wisdom. It’s not my trying to analyze and fix everything. It’s his willingness to forgive.
His empathy didn’t just make him feel what I felt — it made him understand me. It made him accept me. He saw my strong personality. He saw my independence. And instead of being threatened by it, he loved me through it.
There was a time I could have looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t need you. I am capable.” And I meant it. But strength isn’t the same thing as health. Because after all we’ve walked through, I can say this with clarity: I need my husband. Not because I can’t function. But because of who he is.
My husband is gone this weekend. And yes, I’m capable. The house runs. The responsibilities get handled. I miss him. I miss the depth. I miss the empathy. I miss the quiet way he carries what I feel.
Marriage isn’t about proving you can survive alone. It’s about learning how to honor the way God wired the person you chose, and protecting the very trait you once misunderstood.