“You’re not doing enough.”
That’s what I told my husband about 15 years ago, sitting across from each other at a cozy little restaurant during one of our monthly date nights.
But I didn’t say those exact words, nor was that the real message. He was working hard at his full-time job, plus delivering pizzas part-time to support our family of 7. He was doing enough! The real message was: “I’m doing too much. I can’t carry this burden without help.”
Because Dan was often gone, I was in charge of everything: housework, child-rearing, homeschooling, finances, cooking, meal planning, grocery shopping, running kids to their activities, scheduling appointments, staying connected with family… the list seemed endless.
Dan came home exhausted. He’d play with the kids for a little while, eat dinner, then check out for the night. Meanwhile, I didn’t get a break.
I was working just as hard, but my labor wasn’t seen as “work.” Dan received a paycheck, praise from his boss, and recognition from others about what a great provider he was.
On the other hand, I was expected to drop everything whenever a family member had an emotional issue. In many ways, it seemed that most thought I was doing nothing all day so I should always be available. I tried to be there for everyone—parents, siblings, friends—but the weight felt suffocating.
Those days were difficult. I appreciated my husband’s efforts, but I became resentful when I felt like mine weren’t recognized. I kept the house tidy with toddlers at home all day. I cooked, cleaned, and planned lessons.
Because of his job requirements, Dan couldn’t always join us for church, so I’d get the kids ready and go on my own. He didn’t like this, but I beginning to hate it.
On top of being homemaker, mother, and wife, I was my kids’ teacher. Our church sent a strong message that if you love your children, you homeschool.
So, we complied because we genuinely love our children.
In every area of life, we tried to comply. When we fell short, we felt convicted and ashamed, vowing to try harder.
Relaxing was a foreign concept. On Dan’s days off, we fought. Our rhythm was thrown off. We didn’t want to fight, but we were disconnected and didn’t know how to reconnect.
At one point, I told him, “You feel like a roommate to me. I love you, but I’m not sure I’m in love with you.” I knew those words hurt him, but being candid is part of who I am.
On that particular date night, I took a few minutes before leaving to jot down everything I was doing. I wanted to see it all on paper. And the list just kept going.
As I sat across from him, I thought, “I have to do this. Our relationship depends on me having the courage to bring this issue to the forefront. We need to change, or we might lose something precious.”
I slid the folded sheet of paper across the table. It was covered with daily, weekly, and monthly tasks. Dan stared at it. He listened.
Looking back, I see how deep our love was.
In that moment, I took the masculine role of bringing up the issue. He received the message in his feminine energy, and together, we made a plan to change our circumstances.
Today, Dan works much less, but he didn’t wait for that day to make changes. That conversation sparked something in both of us. He decided, that very night, to take some things off my plate—and we’ve never looked back.
Our life changed. We let go of the traditional roles that promised us a blissful marriage, and instead, we did the hard work of honest, regular communication. There are no fixed roles in our marriage now. We naturally do what works for us, and the roles we take on—like me handling the housework and him doing the yardwork—are flexible. They shift and change as needed.
In fact, when I broke my leg a couple of years ago, Dan took over cooking. That’s when we realized he actually enjoys cooking, and I don’t. Why should I continue to do something I dislike while taking that enjoyment away from him? It made no sense.
Sometimes, I still cook, and occasionally, he cleans. We both work to earn money and create together—like with our podcast, Drop the Stones and website, DanandCan.com. Life is different now; we’ve unexpectedly found our bliss.
I’m not sharing this with you to brag about what a great marriage I have. But rather, I share to challenge you to explore the role you play—not only in your marriage but in all your relationships, romantic or platonic. We aren’t robots—we’re organic, and organic things need flexibility and adaptability.
Insisting that traditional husband-and-wife roles are the only route to happiness is deceptive. Sometimes it works, but it never works without thoughtful, respectful communication.
The route to a happy relationship doesn’t lie in the lazy road of filling a mold that society or the church claims is morally superior. It lies in the sacred spaces of vulnerability and communication.
Have you looked there yet?
I have. And I will never go back.
Love,
Can
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Have you and your partner explored the balance of masculine and feminine energy in your relationship?
What roles have you found that work for both of you, and where have you had to make adjustments? Feel free to share your experiences in the comments—I’m excited to continue the conversation with you.
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