Marriage - Mishpacha Magazine https://mishpacha.com The premier Magazine for the Jewish World Tue, 07 Jan 2025 11:13:23 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.9.6 https://mishpacha.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/cropped-logo_m-32x32.png Marriage - Mishpacha Magazine https://mishpacha.com 32 32 After the Storm https://mishpacha.com/after-the-storm-3/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=after-the-storm-3 https://mishpacha.com/after-the-storm-3/#respond Wed, 12 Dec 2018 10:51:31 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=29304 Should we pretend the fight never happened and soldier on? Or can we harness the aftermath of our arguments to strengthen, not strain, our marriage?

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his fight followed the same pattern as the others. Chavi and Meir had another blowup about money: Shua’s upcoming bar mitzvah, Aliza’s orthodontia, and whether Esti can go to sleepaway camp this year. It’s over now, though — or is it? Meir has retreated to his study, and he’s staring at the ceiling in front of an open Gemara. Chavi is banging pots and clattering plates in the kitchen, griping to her sister about her husband’s tightfistedness.

She knows she needs to make peace, though, so with a martyred sigh, she marches into Meir’s study. “Look, I’m sorry if you were hurt,” she begins. “I just had a really hard day at work today. And then you started being bossy like you always do. Can we figure this out now?”

How many tactical errors has Chavi committed? Full marks if you caught all four.

Today’s frum women are emotionally aware and well educated in communication skills. We all know the respectful ways to disagree — use “I” messages and not “you” statements, no name-calling, stay on topic.

But somehow, in the heat of the moment, all the relationship columns we’ve ever read fly right out the window, and we end up saying things we’ll later regret.

If arguments in marriage are inevitable, what can a couple do to ensure that they rebound from a fight and strengthen their relationship, instead of letting the fight damage it?

The Art of the Apology

While we’re simmering with anger, many women like to vent to sympathetic listeners, such as mothers or friends. Resist the temptation, caution the experts. Regaling relatives with tales of a spouse’s foibles is a betrayal of the marriage, not to mention a recipe for awkwardness. If Chavi really needed some perspective or tools, the correct address would be a mentor, such as a teacher, rav, or therapist.

Chavi gets partial score for her next move — the immediate apology.

Mrs. Leah Richeimer, marriage educator and author of Marriage Secrets, says self-justification is extremely common. “Often, the more time that elapses between the mistake and when you repair it, the more you convince yourself that you were justified for behaving badly. ‘Well, of course I said that, it’s the tenth time he did xyz.’

“Cut that time in half. If you’re used to letting tensions mount and waiting a day before apologizing, make it half a day,” recommends Mrs. Richeimer. “If it’s too hard, the apology doesn’t have to be verbal. It can be a note or an email, if that makes it easier for someone to express themselves without revisiting the conflagration. Apologizing fast will let out 99 percent of the steam. If you said something hurtful, the issue is secondary to the hurt.”

One reason people often don’t apologize when they should is the concern that an apology can be interpreted as a concession about the issue that sparked the argument. Instead of letting that concern hold you back, says Mrs. Richeimer, be clear that you’re apologizing for the unkind way you communicated; don’t say vague things like “I’m sorry we fought.” Once you’ve cleared the air by expressing remorse for your inappropriate behavior, you and your spouse can focus on dealing with the issue without the static caused by pent-up anger.

While Chavi, in our example above, gets brownie points for apologizing fairly quickly, she managed to bungle her apology in four separate ways.

Chavi’s first blunder is her noncommittal apology. Her lukewarm “I’m sorry if you were hurt” manages a double insult: First, her “if” implies that she isn’t taking the time to understand her husband’s emotions, and second, she’s not taking responsibility for her role in his hurt feelings. Rebbetzin Michal Cohen, LCSW, rebbetzin of Chicago’s Adas Yeshurun, says that while you should never apologize for something you didn’t do, you can apologize for causing pain: “I’m sorry we had this painful disagreement. I don’t want us to have to go through this.”

Chavi’s second mistake, excusing bad behavior, is also a big no-no. Her mention of her bad day would be helpful only if she recognizes that it gives her no excuse to behave hurtfully. For example, she might say, “I had a hard day but I know that’s no reason to have snapped at you. I should have been more careful.”

Additionally, by accusing Meir of being bossy, Chavi is using her apology as a way of dredging up old hurts and using them as weapons against him, in essence rekindling the fight under a guise of peace-making.

Possibly most damaging is Chavi’s timing. She barged into Meir’s study to talk before either had collected their thoughts or prepared themselves to continue the conversation. By not carefully selecting ideal conditions for finishing the conversation, Chavi is dooming herself to reigniting the previous fight.

Opening Old Wounds

Rehashing an argument is a delicate business and shouldn’t be done on the spur of the moment. “There’s no one right way,” acknowledges Rebbetzin Cohen. Instead, she says, couples need to have honest conversations about their needs. A wife might say to her husband, “You know, that argument we had really bothers me. I think we can figure this out. When would be a good time? Over dinner? Should we take a ride, or maybe a walk?”

Whatever time the couple agrees on to revisit the issue, make sure to allow yourself enough time for introspection, says Mrs. Richeimer. She encourages women to journal privately to explore their feelings before tackling the issue. Is your stance based on facts or emotions? What premises underlie your conviction, and could they possibly be wrong?

Next, it’s time for the wife to put herself in her husband’s shoes and consider his perspective with an open mind. She should allow herself to let go of the outcome and make peace with the fact that she may not win the argument. This doesn’t mean, Mrs. Richeimer clarifies, that the wife should always defer to her husband’s opinion. Rather, she should make an effort to be less invested in the result. Paradoxically, that will give her husband more space to be able to consider her arguments. “When there’s a battle of wills, everyone loses,” says Mrs. Richeimer. “He can’t even entertain her point of view, since he feels the need to maintain control at all costs. When she’s less invested in being right, he’ll be more likely to ask, ‘Why do you think that way? What’s your rationale?’ ”

Once Chavi has carefully picked her time and reviewed the matter privately, it’s time to talk. What should the conversation be about? Should she ignore the fact that they fought and go back to discussing party planners and orthodontists, or should she address their argument? In After the Fight, psychologist Daniel B. Wile extols the value of a recovery conversation.

Discussing what happened during a fight might seem counterintuitive, says Dr. Wile (we all feel calmer — why rock the boat?), but it yields several important benefits.

By discussing the argument, the couple can come to a sense of closure, knowing that the fight is behind them. Also, properly practiced, recovery conversations draw the partners together in a bond of enhanced emotional awareness and intimacy. And finally, conducting a postmortem on their fight may yield valuable information that will be helpful in avoiding, or at least ameliorating, future fights.

“You need a bullet-proof plan for how to have conversations without getting into arguments,” agrees Mrs. Richeimer. “There’s discussing issues, and there’s discussing discussions. This takes trial and error, but do try this at home.”

The wife might suggest that next time they postpone conversations that are starting to get heated, while the husband may disagree, and so that makes him feel brushed aside. In response, the wife can suggest an alternative plan — perhaps a five-minute coffee break would help them recharge without the husband feeling slighted? Together, they can work out a plan to avoid the negative patterns their fights follow.

“Establish ground rules,” advises Mrs. Richeimer. “Maybe as soon as one spouse raises his voice, the other gets to say, ‘Let’s discuss this another time.’ Number two might be an agreement not to walk out in middle, and number three could be a decision not to bring up the past.”

Naomi, married 30 years, is a wife who used a recovery conversation as a springboard for growth. “I had a rough shanah rishonah,” she remembers. At first, she didn’t realize she had a tendency to nurse resentments about things her good-natured but sometimes oblivious husband had said. “I’d bring up things from early on, from months before, of which he had no memory. He hadn’t meant to hurt me, but I didn’t see that. Just once, my husband got very defensive and put me in my place. He said, ‘This has to stop, you bear grudges and that’s hard to live with.’ He said it once, but it went straight in, and I realized I had a lot of fixing to do.”

Together with her husband, Naomi decided to give herself a statute of limitations: she couldn’t bring up any insult, real or perceived, once a month had passed. The rule worked wonders, and today, Naomi reports proudly, “It’s been so many years since I’ve had to retract after violating the rule, that my husband doesn’t even remember making it.”

In some cases, couples’ fighting styles are so irreconcilably different that outside help is warranted. Shira, who grew up in a family that yelled often and easily, is married for a decade to Daniel, a soft-spoken immigrant from a very different background. When she saw that her quick resort to raised voices was causing him to shut down, Shira asked her therapist for tools to help her rein in her shouting. Initially, the techniques she learned were useful only after a fight, helping her analyze it calmly with Daniel and plan what to do differently, but with practice and effort, Shira can now use her skills to head off many fights at the pass.

Problem Solving

Once a couple has addressed the communication problems that caused the fight, they often still need to revisit the issue and come to an agreement without triggering a rerun of the previous attempt.
“It’s okay to have different opinions,” says Rebbetzin Cohen. “There’s too much need to get the other person to be just like you. It’s not necessary to agree on everything. Life is more exciting when you don’t. It’s much more fun when you try to figure each other out. ‘Gee, I really respect this person and he’s on a totally different page — I wonder why?’ ”

Shira finds that trying to understand the underlying values, rather than simply each spouse’s desired outcomes, is key. “Often, the issue is one of different values, but we don’t realize it. Let’s say it’s about the budget — instead of arguing over whose expenses are unjustified, try to ask, ‘Why do you feel we need to cut the budget by $500? Why is that so important to you? What’s really at stake here?’ Instead of focusing on the nitty gritty, we go back to the value system.” Once she understands the backstory underlying her husband’s stance, she finds it easier to reach a compromise that satisfies both.

If an issue repeatedly causes explosions, Ahuva, married 27 years, says she’s learned from experience that it may be time for outside help. An objective third party, whether a rav or therapist, can help couples learn to communicate more calmly without flying off the handle.

Roadblocks to Recovery

Negative self-talk often holds women back from improving their relationships. This is a common problem for Naomi, who often thinks, “I married the wrong person, he’ll never understand me!” or “I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I said that.” Thoughts like these, says Naomi, encourage useless ruminating and discourage action. To cut the cycle, she finds that awareness is key. When she pays attention to her brooding thoughts, she can consider them logically and reject the ones that weigh her down.

Women are also susceptible to self-blame, says Rebbetzin Cohen. “People think subconsciously, ‘If I did something wrong I’m terrible,’ so they do everything to ensure they’re not wrong. People get very stuck in needing to blame somebody. It’s easier than looking at yourself, and it’s easier to be angry than to be scared.”

As with any marital communication, waiting for your husband to initiate a truce or to intuit what you need is often a bad idea. While some women resent always being the one to extend the olive branch, reaching out to make peace doesn’t necessarily mean admitting you were in the wrong.

Rebbetzin Cohen advises not focusing on right and wrong, but on the way forward: “I really want us to get past this, and I’m not sure how to do that.” Then, if each spouse offers a clear suggestion for improvement, they can make real progress. “A woman might tell her husband, ‘These are the two thing I’d love for you to do for me to help avoid our common fight triggers,’” says Rebbetzin Cohen. “Sometimes it’s shocking. ‘You want that? I had no idea.’” Assuming that men don’t want to talk about their feelings is a mistake, she cautions. While some men may be naturally less fluent in the language of the heart, their emotional needs are real, and their wives should listen with sensitivity and encouragement.

At other times, it’s not the wife waiting for her husband’s apology — it’s she who’s climbed a tall tree and doesn’t know how to get down. Shira remembers a particularly dramatic incident that ended in an abrupt departure from her house. Closing the door behind her, she thought, “Where am I going now? This is really silly!” Eventually, after a long talk with her rav, she was ready to go back. “I asked, ‘What do I do now?’ and he said, ‘Go home!’ ‘How?’ ‘Don’t you have a key?’ he responded. But what do you say to someone after marching out for four hours? I didn’t know how to reenter my house. It was really hard because I’d made it into something big. I had to slink back into my own house and offer an elaborate apology.”

What if a woman attempts an apology, only to be rebuffed? It’s the 14th time she apologized for the same issue — why should he accept it? Mrs. Richeimer says it’s actually fairly common that when women begin to master apologies, their husbands respond with accusations. “The answer to that is, ‘I’m a work in progress,’” says Mrs. Richeimer. “I know I haven’t always controlled my tongue. This year I lost it 40 times, but I hope by next year it’ll be down to 35.”

Dr. Wile describes a related phenomenon he terms “nice-guy backlash.” If your husband’s overtures are repeatedly rebuffed, he’s likely to respond by feeling spurned, taken advantage of, and just a little foolish, which will spark a new round of hostilities. To avoid prolonging the discord, if you don’t feel ready to accept your husband’s gestures, she should say so respectfully rather than stonewalling him. “I need a little more time to be by myself,” will show him you’re still on the same team, while “Who asked you to come in here anyway?” is a rejection.

What about when your husband is the one who rejects attempts to discuss the issue? Quoting educator Rabbi Manis Friedman, Shira shares an idea she found eye-opening. “We have this cultural notion that you need to know your spouse’s deepest secrets. But we don’t — sometimes we need to accept that there are parts we won’t change, fix, or even get into, and we need to be okay with that.”

Realizing that she can’t force a reconciliation that the other party isn’t ready for takes a degree of surrender, but learning to let things slide will help a wife accept bumps more graciously.

The Long Haul

A strong relationship is the best guarantee that couples will successfully rebound from fights.

Ahuva points to the time and effort she and her husband invest in their relationship as the factor that most contributes to their relatively easy reconciliations. “We spend a lot of time together. We go for walks often, four or five times a week, with no other disturbances. We talk a lot about what worries us. It really nips most problems in the bud.”

Shira says her secret glue is the light-hearted atmosphere in her home. “We make jokes, we’re silly, we laugh together, especially when we’re recovering from a fight. I try to get back to being light-hearted as soon as I can. Emotions can really weigh on the heart. The light-heartedness restores balance, a reminder that we’re all okay here.”

Above all else, experience is the best teacher. Rebbetzin Cohen says age and maturity work wonders on couples’ dynamics. “At a certain point, people become more mature about understanding the fight. It’s no longer about who’s right and wrong, but about understanding each other. It’s a long growth process, and it takes time. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a world that has a lot of time for anything.”

Shira points out that with time couples also learn which fights are simply not worth having, because no one will ever concede the point. Once a person knows the hot-button issues to avoid, discourse becomes more civil.

There may be one thing — money — that triggers all Chava’s fights. But there’s also one thing that can change her argument pattern and overhaul her entire shalom bayis: communication.
Communication, says Mrs. Richeimer, is not about two people talking; it’s about two people listening. By listening carefully and sympathetically, we can find the way forward toward building stronger marriages on the wreckage of earlier fights.

Post-Fight Cheat Sheet

You’ve had a fight, maybe even a huge one. But don’t despair. Here are some of the most important tips to help you rebound, stronger than ever.

Don’t:

  • Give the silent treatment. If you need a little time and space, you can request those, but never use silence as a punishment.
  • Beat yourself up. Fights happen; be prepared to move on.
  • Say “I didn’t mean it.” You did. You made a mistake; you need to own it and clean up the mess.
  • Share details with friends or family.

Do:

  •  Plan ahead. When and how can you reintroduce the issue without causing an explosion?
  • Own up to anything you’ve said or done to make matters worse

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 621)

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Balancing Act https://mishpacha.com/balancing-act/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=balancing-act https://mishpacha.com/balancing-act/#respond Wed, 13 Dec 2017 03:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=17318 Experts share how to keep your marriage at the center of your life, no matter how full it may get.

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To Adam it was perfectly clear that a husband and wife are two parts of one neshamah that Hashem separated into two bodies. Hashem then stood Adam and Chavah under a chuppah in Gan Eden and married them saying ‘Now do it again. Recreate that sense of oneness that you experienced in Gan Eden.’ That’s the goal of married life”

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our husband will be your best friend” every kallah hears. “He should come before everything else.” But concepts that seem so obvious during engagement take on levels of complexity in the real world which features confusing overlays of friends family work and OTHER obligations. Experts share how to keep your marriage at the center of your life no matter how full it may get

Balancing Act

Avi knew even before he started dating Miriam that she was exceptionally close with her sister Shani. That never bothered him — it was nice for families to be close he thought — and for the first year or two of their marriage he shrugged off the late-night phone calls and incessant barrage of text messages between the two.

But as the years passed his irritation mounted. It bothered him that Shani knew as much about his kids as he did and he was livid when she showed up at the lawyer’s office when they were closing on their new home. The straw that broke the husband’s back was when Miriam met with the caterer for their son’s bar mitzvah with Shani.

“He’s my son not Shani’s!” he protested to Miriam.

She looked at him blankly. “But you don’t care about menus!” she replied confused.

“But you don’t care about me!” he shot back. When Miriam pointed out that he hadn’t had the patience to debate shades of teal when she tried asking him about tablecloths Avi suggested that Shani take his place at the head table. For the next week the couple barely spoke.

When Avi heard Miriam tearfully discussing their fight with her sister he was furious — but he managed to keep his mouth closed. That night he suggested they go speak to their rav together.

The Friendship Factor

It’s natural for people to have confidants or close friends other than their spouses. Many women find their friends to be the most sympathetic ear when it’s time to vent; men often prefer to chow cholent and talk Trump with the guys. And for most marriages that’s vital. Time spent with a good friend can leave a woman invigorated and upbeat — and the husband reaps the benefits.

“If one spouse feels like they’re second in their spouse’s life it’s time to ask: What’s not right in this relationship? Why isn’t the marriage the primary focus for both of us?”

“Back in my day I was given the message that you don’t need anything else after marriage your husband will be everything for you” says Rebbetzin Michal Cohen LCSW rebbetzin at Chicago’s Congregation Adas Yeshurun and a therapist at a family service agency. “Poor guy! Who can live up to all that? Some couples are best friends who like the same things and do everything together but most aren’t — and we all still need our friends.”

Baila had been valedictorian in high school and was a star third-grade teacher; she was used to giving every challenge her all and she planned to tackle marriage with the same commitment she gave her lesson planning. Supper would be on the table the minute her husband walked through the door she resolved and she’d certainly never ignore him to talk on the phone.

Her mornings were spent teaching her afternoons spent ironing and cooking and her evenings were spent with her new husband. After a week of marriage she decided she’d keep her cell phone turned off unless she was out; her friends’ calls were too distracting.

At first she listened to her voice mails and scrolled through the text messages from her close friends with a vague sense of guilt but that feeling soon faded and was replaced by indifference even annoyance. But then the calls and texts stopped. Good Baila thought. She didn’t have time for all that now; she was a married woman. She had a good job and a wonderful husband… so why did she feel so dispirited?

“I don’t expect my husband to sip coffee with me at a café — he hates coffee ” Rebbetzin Cohen notes wryly. “But he’ll tell me ‘When was the last time you went out with so-and-so I know how much you love to do that.’”

Off Kilter

Sometimes, though, things get knocked out of balance and an outside interest takes on mammoth proportions that threaten to capsize a marriage, as in the case of Avi and Miriam.

When a relationship reaches a crisis point over a friendship or other outlet, it’s typically not the distraction that’s at fault, says Rabbi Shawlom Francis, LCSW, who maintains a private practice in Lakewood and is a psychotherapist and clinical supervisor at CHEMED Health Center.  When one spouse complains that they feel their role has been usurped, it’s usually an indication of a problem that goes deeper than one friendship.

“People often come to me with in-law problems,” he says. “There are very few in-law problems; it’s usually a relationship problem. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t in-laws who are difficult or interfering or who step into territory where they don’t belong. But the problems arise when their child has some emotional weakness or hasn’t put up functional boundaries.

“When the marriage is strong, and the couple relates well to each other, when they recognize the two of them as a primary unit and are on the same page, they may have problematic outsiders, and those people can cause challenges, but it won’t threaten the marriage. So if one spouse feels like they’re second in their spouse’s life, it’s time to ask: What’s not right in this relationship? Why isn’t the marriage the primary focus for both of us?

“Essentially, this is the area where growth takes place in a marriage,” Rabbi Francis says. “The question is, can I look at this as a mirror? What do I have to do to improve myself?”

Eyes on the Goal

Of course, it’s fine for one spouse to seek fulfillment or support outside of marriage, says Rabbi Efraim Stauber, a couples’ therapist, noted lecturer, and rosh kollel of The Torah Center of Yerushalayim. “Asking if a couple needs to find their relationship completely satisfying, or if it’s okay to fill certain companionship needs or wants outside the marriage, is like asking if you should insist on a relationship that exists only in fantasy, or if you should accept the one that exists in reality,” he asserts. “It’s not much of a question. So why then does the notion of going outside the relationship for satisfaction rankle?”

These questions arise when we don’t understand the purpose of marriage, Rabbi Stauber states. “Behind the question lies the secular notion that marriage is about satisfying our companionship and relationship needs,” says Rabbi Stauber. “If the glue of our relationship is relatively superficial, such as choices of entertainment or even companionship, then looking outside the marriage to satisfy ourselves will smack of betrayal. But our goals in marriage can be way beyond that.”

Rebbetzin Rifka Katz, who has been teaching Montreal’s kallos for 40 years and who lectures internationally on marital relationships and intimacy, agrees that it’s necessary to home in on the purpose of marriage.

Marriage, she notes, is more than just a mitzvah — it’s not just for Jews, but it is an intrinsic reality that Hashem built into the natural order of the world. The creation of Adam is our prototype of marriage.

“When Adam was first created, the Torah describes him as ‘zachar u’nekeivah bara osam — a being created as both male and female.’ The Midrash explains that Adam was created with both male and female anatomies, forged back-to-back into one being with two faces. But when Adam questioned this strange makeup, realizing that no other animal was so constructed, Hashem immediately separated the being into two individuals — Adam and Chavah. Adam’s first words to Chavah revealed their strange beginning. ‘You are bone of my bones,’ he told her, ‘flesh of my flesh.’

“Adam was explaining to Chavah, ‘The most important thing you need to know is you are me!’ ” says Rebbetzin Katz. “‘We were created as one entity, and now Hashem has simply put some space between us.’ To Adam it was perfectly clear that a husband and wife are two parts of one neshamah that Hashem separated into two bodies.

“Hashem then stood Adam and Chavah under a chuppah in Gan Eden and married them, saying ‘Now do it again. Recreate that sense of oneness that you experienced in Gan Eden.’ That’s the goal of married life.”

This understanding, Rebbetzin Katz stresses, must define your marriage. Each couple is created exactly as Adam and Chavah were, with one neshamah broken in two and sent down into this world in two different bodies. “Hashem tells each couple, ‘Al kein yaazov — leave all your past relationships behind, glue yourself to your wife, and forge a basar echad. Through your hard work in marriage and building a meaningful relationship, you can unify that neshamah once again to regain that state and feel as Adam did: I am you and you are me. This means knowing — and showing — that your spouse comes first in your life, before anyone or anything else.

Once you’ve internalized that, Rebbetzin Katz says, it’s easier to understand the proper role of other relationships and outlets. “Of course women should go out, socialize, work. What could be wrong with that? When a woman is busy raising her family, a good laugh and a good cry with a friend will energize and revitalize her. Yet she needs to recognize she and her husband are simply two halves of one neshamah, and they’ll be bonded together to earn their Olam Haba together. Marriage, therefore, is the most basic and far-reaching relationship that exists.”

Ideal vs. Real

However, even with a proper foundation in place, couples often grapple with finding the right balance. Chaviva often complained of feeling stifled and unfulfilled in her marriage. A dedicated and hardworking child psychologist, she saw the invitation to join the board of the local Jewish Family Services as a much-deserved confirmation of her success.

But while Dovid was proud of her invitation, he wasn’t really interested in the intricacies of policy updates or the minutes of their meetings, nor did he give the journal article she published more than a passing glance. But on the board, for the first time, Chaviva had colleagues — frum women her age! — who shared her enjoyment in reading psychology journals. Chaviva became especially close with Lea, who worked as a child life specialist at a local hospital. For Chaviva, it was thrilling to have a friend who finally “got” her.

When Chaviva learned that she was to be promoted, she was beyond thrilled. She immediately picked up the phone to text Lea — then put it right back down, jolted. Something’s wrong, she thought. Shouldn’t my first thought be to call Dovid?

“It’s very common for spouses to have different interests and skills,” says Rebbetzin Cohen. “Let’s say Moishe loves music and Tami doesn’t. Moishe probably wanted to marry someone who loved music, but he met Tami, everything else was check, check, check; he’s not stupid — he went ahead with the shidduch, and it was, in fact, perfect.

“Ideally, both spouses would be concert pianists who could make music together all day. But the ideal is not what we usually get, nor even what we need. Some couples are very similar and love doing all sorts of things together, while other couples have very different likes or dislikes. They can both have strong marriages.”

While it’s okay for one spouse to throw herself into an interest the other doesn’t share, it’s a problem if the other spouse belittles that interest, she cautions. But it’s equally problematic for the spouse to ignore that passion. “Each spouse needs to figure out how to fill their specific needs,” she advises, “But with the acknowledgment of the other spouse: ‘I get it, please do this, this is so important to you.’ That’s what marriage is all about.”

But what about when an interest turns into an all-consuming obsession? How can you know when an outlet threatens to engulf your relationship?

“If you have entire areas of your life that your husband is disconnected from, that’s dangerous,” notes Rebbetzin Debbie Greenblatt, a senior lecturer for Gateways and a dating and marriage coach.

Other outlets can also become problematic when they turn into a substitution rather than a supplement. “If you’re looking to substitute a relationship with your husband, if you’re not getting deep emotional needs met, if you’re feeling distant from your husband and looking for another person or outlet to fill a void, that’s cause for concern,” says Rabbi Francis.

Rebbetzin Greenblatt notes that ultimately, it boils down to a question of primacy. “If a person’s a doctor, of course that doesn’t make him less of an oved Hashem,” she says. “But if being a doctor becomes his life and priority over being an oved Hashem, then it will affect his ability to be a Torah Jew. Similarly, in marriage a person can have other interests, but if those take priority over the relationship, they’ll diminish it.”

It’s unrealistic to expect one human being to be everything for you, she notes, but it’s important to remember that marriage is primary. “Everything else, including your children, is second. Your children might take more of your time and energy, but your first obligation is to your husband. When your children see you put on lipstick before Abba comes home, when they realize that you put him first, that creates a happy, secure environment for them.”

When a Piece Is Missing

All this works for couples dealing with a regular dynamic. Those who are dealing with serious limitations or mental health diagnoses will need to develop their own set of coping strategies.

“There are extreme cases where the husband doesn’t have the skills or tools to emotionally connect to people,” Rabbi Francis clarifies. “They can be sweet, responsible people, but emotional connections are not part of their world. That’s a whole different ball game.

“People in those marriages are going to have to accept that they won’t be getting strong connections, and they’re going to need to take care of themselves with other outlets. That needs a lot of acceptance, self-growth, and reflection.

“But that’s rare. If anyone else comes to me and says, ‘I’m not getting what I need,’ I wouldn’t say find another outlet, I’d say work on your marriage.”

Tuning In, Turning Toward

Even if your spouse enjoys playing the trombone or reading psychology journals — and you don’t — it’s important to stay tuned into your spouse’s interests. Rebbetzin Greenblatt cites John Gottman of the Gottman Institute, which promotes a research-based approach to relationships, and his concept of turning toward — the way a spouse physically turns toward the other in a healthy relationship to demonstrate interest in them. The same concept, she says, can be applied to a sharing of interests and meeting of minds.

“In a healthy marriage, you’ll be interested because you’re interested in the person. What makes your husband happy makes you happy; what troubles him makes you supportive. When I first got married, my husband collected stamps. I can’t say I was interested in philately, but if he got an exciting new stamp, I could be excited with him — not with the stamp, with him!”

It’s understandable, then, to feel hurt if your husband doesn’t express interest in a part of your life. How can you get your husband to develop a fascination with needlepoint or crטme brulee? Changing his attitude starts with you, Rebbetzin Greenblatt says. “The first course of remediation is to make sure you’re modeling the behavior you want. Are you interested in his life? Do you want to hear about his day even when it’s the same problem every day?”

The next step, she advises, is to clearly express your emotional needs, making sure your husband knows what you want and need without blaming him. “Rei’us — friendship — is a shifting dynamic,” says Rebbetzin Greenblatt. “If you no longer keep up with your seminary friends ten years post-graduation, that doesn’t mean you weren’t good friends. Friendship comes and goes as the circumstances of our lives change. But the rei’us in marriage can’t end.

“Think about what constitutes a close friend. You’re there for her, you enjoy time together, you get each other. This last point can highlight the differences between men and women. Women often say to me, ‘But my friend can finish my sentence and my husband doesn’t understand even when I do finish the sentence.’ We’re meant to activate our dibbur. One of the reasons that women were given nine out of ten parts of speech is so that they can explain their emotional needs to their husbands — who often don’t understand them organically.

“This doesn’t make him a bad husband. It makes him a man, and the effort you extend to connect is part of the avodah of marriage. Keeping up the rei’us of marriage requires ongoing investment.”

Mind the Gap

Sometimes, frustration with a relationship is caused by unrealistic expectations.

When one spouse feels frustrated that the other can’t fulfill all of their needs, Rabbi Francis explains, they need to recognize that every relationship has an area he dubs “the gap,” meaning that every spouse will lack qualities we wish they had, or have character traits we wish they didn’t. “That’s the area where growth takes place, where the Eibeshter wants us to tap into our strength and grow,” he says. “If everything was perfect, there’d be no opportunity for growth. By definition, marriage is going to foster growth — and growth requires challenge.”

Focusing on and appreciating the good that is in their relationship can help a couple come to terms with this gap. But after that, Rabbi Francis says, they may need to grieve what they’re not getting from this relationship and come to some level of acceptance . As a rule, the more you accept people the way they are, the more likely they’ll become who you want them to be.

The next step is to focus on yourself and ask, “What may be limiting me from allowing myself to become close with my spouse? Am I being vulnerable?” If you can’t share, there will be distance. “How’s my self-esteem?” If you have self-esteem issues, it’s very hard for you to be close to someone else — what if they reject the real you?

A feeling of distance within a relationship should spur you toward honest self-reflection, Rabbi Francis says. It may be uncomfortable, but it presents an important opportunity for introspection and growth.

This idea resonates with Naomi, who admits to struggling with this early in her marriage. Immediately after their wedding, Naomi and Yaakov moved to Israel, where Yaakov learned in kollel. Naomi found the move very difficult.

“I struggled with being so far from my friends,” she recalls. “I needed that very emotional, expressive piece of a relationship. My husband, being a normal male, isn’t very expressive. But due to the time difference, I couldn’t even call my friends, so I didn’t have that emotional outlet.”

Naomi eventually threw herself into her job as a seminary mechaneches, where she played an important and beloved role in her students’ lives. “My students would come over and stay for a few hours at night, but I never said, ‘Okay, this has to end.’ Before I could figure out the boundaries, I had to realize that there was a problem.

“My husband wanted to be supportive of what I was doing, so there was no big blowup, it was more like, ‘Wow, it’s kind of late,’ but I didn’t always pick up on his cues. In general, I struggle with ending conversations with people, especially when I’m helping them.”

Once Naomi realized that her late-night DMCs were hurting her husband’s feelings and harming their relationship, she made a conscious effort to recalibrate.

“I know that everyone says we need regular date nights, but at this stage, with my job, kollel, the kids… they’re just not happening. Instead, we started having Motzaei Shabbos discussions. That open communication has been very helpful. Even on nights when I’m spending time with my students, we know there’s a time when we can discuss anything. Learning to express myself — and my husband learning that he can acknowledge my emotions, even if he doesn’t understand them — has been so helpful.”

“I’ve found it’s not just the time but what you do to build the relationship,” Naomi says. “Our schedules are so busy, we may not be spending hours of time together every day, but I try to focus on what’s meaningful to my husband. I know he appreciates when I walk him out when he leaves. So in the morning, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing — whether I’m with the kids or packing lunches — make my husband a coffee, and walk him to the door.”

It’s important to remember, says Rabbi Stauber, that all the work is worth it. “On a simple level, the purpose of marriage might be the pleasure of a satisfying relationship. Yet on a deeper level, our marriage enables us to fulfill our destiny, which cannot be achieved alone.

“To build a Torah home is to build a place for the Shechinah to reside. When you have two people committed to getting out of their own selves, committed to getting along in a very human way — that’s quite a miracle. And if you can pull that off, Hashem says, this is a place where I want to live. That’s what makes a place for the Shechinah to dwell. So of course a marriage is about an authentic connection, however, the knowledge that this very human connection has Divine ramifications can free a couple to let go of their expectations and create a strong relationship.”

Those Left Behind

While all friendships should be handled with care once one is married, navigating a relationship with a single friend may require more tact, says Rachel Burnham, who was single for 14 years before she married and now runs D8gr8, a dating coaching service.

“Some single women are very sensitive,” she says. “Society looks at them and thinks something must be wrong with them. There’s a lot of judgment. They don’t have the support of a husband, they don’t have kids, yet they are so accomplished and capable in every other area of their life. They have so much to give and do — but they’re not able to fulfill that need like everyone else is.”

Sensitivity goes a long way. Rachel relates the story of a single friend, whose best friend called her the night before her oldest child got engaged. “Her friend is marrying off kids while she’s still going on dates. Obviously, that’s so painful. But her friend was so sensitive and told her about the upcoming engagement before she told her own parents!” That meant a great deal to the friend.

At the same time, Rachel admits, a longstanding relationship between two single friends will need to reframe itself after one friend gets engaged. But most of these adjustments are very doable, as long as both parties are willing to make the effort to maintain a connection.

Chani, a single in her 30s, has also found that relationships don’t need to end when one friend marries. “I can honestly say that when you go through the whole shidduch parshah together, with all the ups and downs and stress and venting involved, there is probably no one happier that you’re getting married than the friend who knows what you went through,” she says.

“I still have tons of close single friends,” Rachel says. “If a relationship can’t sustain the ups and downs of life changes, something’s lacking in the relationship. Healthy people in healthy friendships will understand the need to adjust, and stay close when circumstances change.”

 

(Originally featured in Family First Issue 571)

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The Courage to Start Again https://mishpacha.com/the-courage-to-start-again/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-courage-to-start-again https://mishpacha.com/the-courage-to-start-again/#respond Wed, 01 Nov 2017 05:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=16867 Four women tell their stories about how they were able to believe in a new relationship again, after being divorced or widowed.

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"Therapy helped me stabilize myself and eventually I started dating but reasonable suggestions were few and far between."

Starting a new chapter of life when the previous one ended painfully requires superhuman effort and boundless courage.

Four women share how they reached deep within to uncover the emotional resources they needed for remarriage — and the joy they achieved .

Rivky

Dreaming of the Future

M

y story begins with a typical Bais Yaakov upbringing and marriage at age 21 to the man of my dreams. I was sure of the path our life would take: My husband would stay in kollel forever; together we’d raise a large brood; I’d support him and be an eishes chayil; and all those seminary ideals would come true.

Well the dream quickly turned into a nightmare as my ben Torah husband turned out to be anything but. Four years and three children later I had a get in hand and it was time to rebuild my life.

Despite the urgings of my parents friends and mentors for years I steadfastly refused to consider shidduchim. Before I could look outward and form a new relationship I needed to know that I was stable inside.

Externally I seemed to be doing fine: My kids were growing up I was successful at work I had lots of friends. But inside I knew I had a long way to go.

There was the loneliness that seared through me at the end of each day. I dreamed regularly of my ex-husband realizing his mistake doing teshuvah and coming back to me. I knew it was ridiculous but the dreams were real and I’d often wake up in the morning shaking only to realize that it had all been a fantasy and he hadn’t returned.

Therapy helped me stabilize myself and eventually I started dating but reasonable suggestions were few and far between. I busied myself with work kids friends. Underneath it all though I felt like a failure. Intellectually I knew my divorce hadn’t been my fault; emotionally it was another story.

Several times my therapist suggested EMDR a treatment I’d heard and read about in various magazine articles. I always brushed her off saying I was “fine.” But I wasn’t. I cried when a bus driver yelled at me and occasionally I flew off the handle with clients. I’d read an article about shalom bayis or go to a shiur where the topic was raised and the guilt would surge through me. If only I had done this or that. If only I could have changed the path my marriage took….

After several years of dating with no end in sight I finally took a deep breath and told my therapist “Okay I’ll try it.”

Letting go of the “I’m fine” facade and agreeing to try something so totally out of my box made me feel weird and shaky. I finished the session off kilter unsure of myself unsure if I’d done the right thing. But that night I had a dream. My ex-husband was there and I was packing up my old home. “I’m leaving ” he said words he’d never actually uttered in real life. “Goodbye.”

EMDR wasn’t a one-time thing; it took almost a year for me to work through all the guilt and pain and baggage from my short failed marriage. But over time I found myself less reactive to the minor inconveniences of life to the reminders of my failure.

And then a shidduch came up that sounded more promising than any suggestion I’d heard before. We met once twice three times.

We met, once, twice, three times. By the end of the month, I knew this was the person I was going to marry.

We’re married now; he’s perfect for me in every way. I know I was only able to embrace the future because of the work I did to heal from my past.

 

Fraidy

Living Life to the Fullest

D

uring the last year of Leibel’s life, our lives revolved around doctor appointments, hospital visits, IVs, chavrusas at home when he was too weak to go out. Even as our relationship deepened, the end drew nearer. I held myself together for Leibel. I didn’t want him to leave This World worrying about the wife who would be left very much alone with his passing.

Then he was gone, and I got up from shivah in the four walls that had once been so blessed with his presence, and which now seemed so very empty.

Our marriage had not been blessed with children, but we weren’t lonely as long as we had each other. But now I felt the lack all over again: there were no children calling to ask how I was doing or to share in my grief, no grandchildren’s antics to smile at. Now my days were longer than any 24 hours could be; my sisters and extended family, though supportive, were so very far away.

I alternately cooked meals for one and accepted Shabbos invitations from kind neighbors, all the time struggling to find meaning in my life. I’d been very happily married, but gradually the prospect of spending the rest of my life alone began to haunt me. Could I… should I embark on shidduchim again? I wasn’t old, but I wasn’t young, either. Was there another bashert out there for me?

Taking a deep breath, I davened to Hashem to show me the way. A year had passed since Leibel’s passing, and it was time. I contacted shadchanios, registered on a frum shidduch site, and made sure to look my best. Sometimes it took a week or more to get up the guts to make the phone calls, but I pushed myself, and the names came up — widowed and divorced men in my age range who wanted to start over.

Meanwhile, I attended shiurim and joined a weekly Tehillim group. I befriended the young mothers in my area, becoming a bubby figure in their children’s lives. Whenever I was invited for a Shabbos meal, I’d bring along homemade cake or challah. Still, there was an undercurrent of restlessness.

Before Pesach, I asked my rav if I had an obligation to be happy. “Absolutely,” he said. When I came out of shul on Yom Tov and saw families all around me, I wanted to cry. Quickly, I dug my fingernails into my arm. “Stop,” I told myself. “You have a mitzvah of simchas Yom Tov. You can do it.”

At first, I was afraid I’d never find another husband. Eventually, I began to feel a certain conviction that there was someone out there for me… but where was he? Would I ever find him?

Opening myself up to rejection was so painful. Sometimes I said no, sometimes my date did. Then a close friend called and asked if I was willing to meet a man close to ten years older than me. Refoel’s wife had passed away after dementia made its slow and cruel advance. Though they’d been married for over 50 years, Refoel was still young at heart and eager to share his remaining years with a new partner.

We talked for hours. I didn’t want our first or second dates to end. By the third, I was ready to get engaged, and so was he.

The loneliness of widowhood is now but a memory. Refoel is so very different from Leibel, but he’s just what I need in this stage of life, and we both couldn’t be happier. Not only that, but Refoel has a number of children and grandchildren, who have eagerly welcomed a new bubby into their lives.

Today my life revolves around my husband’s schedule, and the cooking and baking I do is for us and our family. No longer do I fall asleep at night wondering what tomorrow will bring; I wake up to the sun shining through the windows of my new home, reminding me of the blessings Hashem has granted me.

 

Batya

Hopeful, Not Desperate

S

itting at a friend’s Shabbos table, I watched my daughter play with my friend’s children. Tears came to my eyes. “What’s wrong?” my friend asked gently.

“I’m afraid I’ll never have another child,” I admitted.

I was a 38-year-old baalas teshuvah with a two-year-old daughter. My ex-husband had left us when my daughter was only six months old. I badly wanted to get remarried, but I was also scared. What if I made another mistake and married someone who couldn’t stick to his commitments? What if I was dumped again, after getting my hopes so high?

My parents couldn’t understand why I had thrown away a good career to move to Israel and get married. Now the marriage was over, but I couldn’t move back to the US, because of the custody arrangement: My daughter’s father wouldn’t allow us to move.

The therapist I’d started seeing after my divorce encouraged me to be independent, to realize that I could survive without a guy in my life. So when I started dating a year after the divorce, my goal was to be objective, not desperate for a new relationship.

Meanwhile, the money I’d been living on during the first two years after the divorce had run out. I started a graphic design program and took a second job, working mornings while my daughter was in gan and evenings after she went to sleep. Every moment was full, but I told Hashem that if He’d send someone my way, I’d carve out the time to date.

One day, my rebbetzin called. “Batya, I met this guy and I have a really good feeling about him. He’s here temporarily from the US, but I think you should go out with him.”

I agreed. Shimon and I met twice before he returned to the States. He impressed me as a real mensch, especially when someone tried to steal my purse on our first date and he managed to prevent the theft. But after those two dates, he told my rebbetzin that he didn’t think the shidduch would work.

I didn’t let myself feel too disappointed — after all, I was working on becoming independent. Since Shimon had impressed me so much, I wondered if I had any friends in the US that I could set him up with. I asked my rebbetzin if it was okay for me to e-mail him with my suggestions. She said it was fine, and I wrote to him.

Shimon thanked me for my efforts, but wrote that he preferred not to date women over a certain age. I didn’t want to give up on the idea so quickly, though. I asked if we could Skype so I could get a feel for how committed he was to his age requirement. I’d never made a shidduch before; I just felt like this was something worth pursuing.

On Skype, Shimon confirmed his age requirements; he’d been married previously but didn’t have children, and it was important to him to marry a woman of childbearing age. “Okay,” I said, thinking that was the end of that.

But it wasn’t, because Shimon had rethought the distance between us and asked if we could Skype-date. We dated over the computer for two months, and then he returned to Israel so we could get engaged.

Fortunately, Shimon was able to transfer his work to Israel, and my daughter Yaella is thrilled to have a new abba. I’ve quit both my jobs as I settle into my new marriage, anticipating the birth of our first child together.

I don’t know why Hashem arranged for Shimon and I to meet just when my life became so busy with work and job training, but I do know that expanding beyond my comfort zone — allowing myself to hope for the impossible but not be devastated if it didn’t occur — got me to the place where I am today.

Jenn

Rewriting the Script

T

o understand my story, you’ve got to know me and where I come from. I’ve always been an outgoing, energetic, positive person, hosting guests, running Nshei events — not the type to let life pass me by. My husband and I became frum together, moved to Israel, and had four little girls one after another. Our lives revolved around the day-to-day details of homework, playdates, and Torah classes.

And then everything went into a tailspin with my husband’s diagnosis. I spent a year in and out of the hospital, making medical decisions, davening for a yeshuah… and then facing the reality that my husband, the father of my little children, had been called Upstairs for a higher purpose, a purpose we could not begin to fathom.

My community rallied around me, sending meals and providing endless emotional support. As I recovered from the shock and grief, I thought, I cannot be a young widow — this is so not me. This can’t be my story.

The year of treatments and tension had left me depleted. But I knew I didn’t want to get stuck in a place of sorrow and loneliness; I wanted to put my life back together — and I wanted it to include a loving husband. My feelings were bolstered when I met another woman who’d been widowed young and remarried only after her children were grown. “Don’t wait to get married,” she told me. “Do it now. Be happy, don’t be lonely.”

I went on a diet and worked on looking good again, mostly for my own self-esteem. Then I started contacting shadchanim. But although I left many messages, none of them called me back. As soon as they heard that I was a 36-year-old widow with four daughters, they didn’t want anything to do with me.

“But I’m put together and accomplished,” I begged. Still, it seemed no one wanted to take on raising someone else’s daughters.

I’d spent a lot of time over the past year working on my emunah and strengthening my connection to Hashem. Now I wondered, What kind of life do I want for myself? Once, I had been a pampered princess, with all my needs attended to. Now I had to do everything myself. But I knew I still had it in me to give to a husband, and I didn’t want to give up my dreams of a happy, fulfilling future.

So I davened. Night after night I turned to Hashem, crying, begging, and pleading with Him to send me a husband who would be the right fit for my family.

My mother, visiting my home in Yerushalayim, found a guy on Frumster who seemed appropriate. Tzvi was learning in Rabbi Shalom Arush’s yeshivah, Chut Shel Chessed, just a few blocks away from me. He was 34, had never been married, and came from a similar background. My mother e-mailed him, and he wrote back. Although he was looking for a younger girl, he agreed to meet me.

Things looked promising, but after two dates Tzvi was hesitant about continuing. “I’m not such a tzaddik,” he told me apologetically. “I don’t think I could take on someone else’s kids like that.”

I’m trained in marketing, so it was easy for me to find an approach that would be appealing, not intimidating. “Let’s just go out and have a good time, and see if we can be friends.” In other words, no commitments. A little unconventional in the frum world, I know, but he agreed.

Conversation came easily. We’d grown up in similar homes and our worldviews were very compatible. As we continued to date, I made sure we spent a lot of time with my daughters, seeing if he could become a father figure. I waited to see if he’d run the other way when they got cranky on Friday night. But he didn’t. He actually enjoyed himself.

He began to realize that instead of starting from scratch, he could start out with a built-in family. At our vort three weeks later, he told people, “I’m getting five and Jenn’s getting one. It’s not even fair to her!”

We’ve been married over four years now, baruch Hashem, and I feel incredibly blessed to have Tzvi in my life. Together, we have a boy after our four girls, followed by another two little girls. I call them the glue that sticks our relationship together.

Once again, my life revolves around homework, playdates, and Torah classes… albeit in a different script than I imagined originally. Tzvi and I are committed to respecting each other and to raising all of our children together. Although I’m no longer active in the Nshei, I do speak publicly about my experiences, as I feel that my life is an example of how Hashem has a hidden plan for everyone, and our job is to stay positive and listen to His messages.

Having made it to the other side, I tell people going through all different challenges that yes, there’s always hope for the future.


Finding the Courage

For a widowed or divorced woman, remarriage can be a dream come true — but it can be hard to find the courage to embrace that dream. One of the biggest challenges a divorcיe may face is learning how to trust again, says Monsey-based life coach Chaya Leah Ehrlich, who works with many divorced and remarried women. “In order to remarry, you need to trust another person enough to share, to open yourself up, to be vulnerable,” she explains.

This trust may have to be directed inwardly, as well: “Do I trust myself to make the right decision? That I can give to a new husband and all that it entails? That I deserve to be taken care of? “These are the questions many women are asking themselves subconsciously.”

Mrs. Ehrlich differentiates between divorce and widowhood, noting that a widow generally hasn’t had her trust in others shaken the way a divorcיe has. Still, a divorced woman, she says, can overcome her fear of rejection or failure by attempting to understand what went wrong, healing from the past, and starting to believe in herself again.

This isn’t to say that she’s to blame for the past. “If the only thing you did ‘wrong’ was choose a problematic person to marry, that issue itself needs to be addressed,” says Rachel Rose, a family and individual therapist in private practice in Yerushalayim. “The more work you’ve done on yourself before dating a second time, the better your chances of creating the kind of marriage in which you can grow and thrive. If you sweep issues under the rug, it’s easy to trip over them when you remarry.”

In an effort to escape the overwhelming loneliness of widowhood, some widowed women may rush into a new marriage too quickly. “Make sure you know who you are and what you need, and don’t just jump into a relationship with someone who doesn’t fit,” advises Mrs. Rose. “It’s very hard to make time for yourself after the loss of a spouse, either through divorce or marriage, simply because of all the physical demands, children, work, or household-related. Learning how to take care of yourself before you add more balls to the juggling act is crucial.

“The best anchor in a second marriage is the emotional health of both parties, and a commitment to work through issues as they come up,” she says. “Taking the time to heal and to learn new relationship skills creates the confidence you need to succeed. And never forget to daven for siyata d’Shmaya.”

 

 Avigail Rosenberg is the editor of Healing from the Break: Stories, Inspiration, and Guidance for Anyone Touched by Divorce (Menucha Publishers). She can be contacted through Mishpacha.

(Originally featured in Family First Issue 565)

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Secrets of Half-Century Marriages https://mishpacha.com/secrets-of-half-century-marriages/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=secrets-of-half-century-marriages https://mishpacha.com/secrets-of-half-century-marriages/#respond Wed, 06 Sep 2017 03:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=16247 Couples whose marriages have spanned five decades and beyond have much wisdom to share about the process - of building a relationship and growing older together.

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“It’s a matter of respect and teamwork. You’ll hit life challenges and if you don’t have respect for your partner the marriage can fall apart. A marriage is a contract. Someone has to give in sometimes or else you’re always at odds and disagreeing with each other. And of course it’s a mazal and brachah to have a healthy spouse and children”

Building a Bond

“A long marriage in years doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a happy one. We married at a time when divorce wasn’t common and we didn’t see divorce as a realistic option unless there was no other alternative. So there have been good times and difficult times.

“Since we were both busy with our professions in the early years and I was running the house and had the bulk of the responsibility for the children it was easy to lose track of each other. I made a point of trying to find things that we would enjoy doing together and finding the time to do them. It wasn’t easy but I was successful some of the time.

“For many young couples today where the husband may be in kollel or working and the wife is working as well it’s hard to find ‘together’ time. But it’s crucial. I have a magnet on my refrigerator: Marriages come in kits and you have to put them together. A relationship takes work and needs attention in order to thrive; it doesn’t just happen by itself.”

—Annie F. married 58 years

“I didn’t want to run to my mother with every little thing. We kept our problems within ourselves and we always presented a united front to the children.”

—Faygie L. married 51 years

“The most important thing is to work on some goal together. We were teaching all the years and my husband would help me with all my lesson plans. That was something that kept us involved in each other’s lives. A sense of humor is also very important to keep things on an even keel.”

—Eva H. married 64 years

“When the children were young we always had a full table on Shabbos. We both enjoyed hosting and having an open home is a big part of our bond to this day.”

—Shoshanah Zucker married almost 67 years

“After the kids were in bed we’d sit at the kitchen table and talk. We couldn’t afford babysitters very often and life was busy so we really had to work around the situation. Sometimes we’d put the kids in the car and go for a drive. They’d sleep in the back and we’d talk and laugh. I feel there’s a lot more expected of young mothers today than there was back then.”

—Bracha S. married 54 years

Agreeing to Disagree

“I find that we have fewer disagreements as we age. Neither of us feels a need to prove that our individual point of view is correct. Most of the time we find some middle ground and we’re more accepting of each other’s flaws and shortcomings. “There are a few things I’d like to do over but I can’t. For example I wish I had been less critical and more patient with my husband and the children when I was younger. But you can’t go back you can only go forward.”

—Chaya T. married 54 years

“A turning point for me, quite a number of years ago, was when I realized that my husband was not my adversary, but a human being who experiences hurt and disappointment just as I do. Furthermore, he wanted to feel loved and valued just as I did. After that lightbulb moment, I tried hard to find reasons to compliment, and to do so regularly. I also tried to be aware of when my tone of voice clearly indicated frustration or anger or resentment, and I tried not to say anything until my negative emotions had a chance to dissipate. At times I was successful, at other times I wasn’t. But I continued trying.
“I recently came across Gary Chapman’s book, The Five Love Languages, and I wish I had known about it years ago. There are insights in that small book that would have been useful to me and would be useful to any couple, or member of a couple, who is open to and wants to understand how to improve their relationship.
“Today, we look around us and see our friends and neighbors getting old, ill, and dying. That’s very sobering, and makes us grateful for what we have and where we are in life.”

—Annie F.,  married 58 years

“We were brought up in the old school; we were taught that you can’t say ’I want, I want, I want’ and not give. Of course, we have differences of opinion. It’s human nature. We don’t always agree, but we get over the difficulties. If you respect one another, you do.”

—L.C.,  married 55 years

“We don’t think exactly alike, and I think it’s healthier that way. We’ve had such humdingers of fights, yet they weren’t disruptive. We would fight about lots of things, but we made up afterwards and it was fine.”

 —Eva H., married 64 years

 

Retirement and Empty Nesting

“Once we retired, we moved to Israel, where most of our children lived. We did volunteer work together for a while. I got very active in AMIT, and my husband supported me in that. There are also things we do separately. I like volunteering in the library, and he doesn’t have the patience for it. But it’s not necessary to be together night and day. I respect his friends and his activities, and he respects mine.”
—Faygie L., married 51 years

“I continued working for a few years after my husband retired, so he started helping more in the house, doing the laundry, things like that. I really appreciated that. I was a nurse and I worked the 3-to-11 shift the last couple of years before I retired. My husband used to drive me to work and pick me up. That was really nice; it was a short drive, but we could talk on the way, and I didn’t have to worry about parking and walking at night.”
—Bracha S., married 54 years

“Neither of us really retired when the children left home. We both still work, but shorter hours, and we’ve discussed how continuing to be involved in aspects of our work keeps us alert, interested in life and in each other, and relevant. We’ve made it a practice to select a Jewish text that we both find interesting and read a portion of it to each other Friday evening at the seudah. Shabbos day, we tend to discuss aspects of the parshah or other topics that have come up that are of interest to us.”
—Annie F.,  married 58 years

 

Aging Together

“I’m a bit of a caregiver now, but if you do it sensibly and don’t complain, you can grow into the situation together. We can’t do a lot of the things we might have been doing before. But if you appreciate each other and accept each other’s strengths and weaknesses, you can make things work.”
—Raizel F., married 53 years

“Things change over time. Now we both need walkers and we practically need a traffic cop in the hall because the walkers can’t pass at the same time! My husband talks to me about his learning, I keep him abreast of what’s going on in the world. I don’t have a yetzer hara for hot-fudge sundaes anymore, but we always have something to talk about. That’s very important.”
—Eva H., married 64 years

“A year ago my husband had open-heart surgery, and I was doing pretty well. I stayed with him in the hospital. I walked much faster than he did, so I had to slow my pace while he was recovering. Now I’m sick, and he’s had to slow his pace for me. I’m grateful to Hashem that when one of us is down, the other is up.
“Recently we decided to move into an assisted-living facility. We want to do it while we both still can. Being old is a challenge, but right now we’re at a place of acceptance.”
—Bracha S., married 54 years

Coming Apart, Growing Together

“We grew religiously, both of us, over the years. The children change you a little bit. You grow with them, if you want to. But we talk things through, work them out. It’s very important to be able to talk and not harbor resentment about things.”
—Raizel F., married 53 years

“When we were engaged, I told my husband I wanted to keep kosher, which led to us gradually becoming religious over the next few years. Our parents were very hostile in the beginning. It caused some friction between us, as we had to work things out without really knowing where we were going. But we got through it.
“Over the years there have been other challenges, but we try to give each other chizuk, look at all the positive, and keep going together.”
—Chaya T., married 54 years

“We had a few crises when my husband had to change jobs and we had to move, but I always stood behind him. I never criticized him, I always took his part. Even if you think your mate may have made the wrong decision, don’t take the other side; it’s dangerous to the relationship. Stick to your mate.”
—Esther H., married 65 years

“We lost a son. I understand that a lot of couples come apart when that happens, but baruch Hashem that didn’t happen to us. We reacted very differently. I had to go see a psychologist for a year. My husband thought I was crazy, but he knew that was what I needed.”
—Eva H., married 64 years

“Have there been crises? Sure. And deaths and losses and emotional pain. But also lots of good things and a deeper understanding of life and what’s possible and what isn’t, what’s necessary and what isn’t. Looking back, I feel so much gratitude to Hashem for the journey, and I pray that He gives me the strength and wisdom to deal with the future.”
—Annie F., married 58 years

Keys to a happy Marriage

“You can’t afford to be selfish in a relationship. You’ve got to have a give-and-take. If you see your spouse isn’t feeling well, or isn’t happy with you, you have to ask questions. It’s important to talk, you can’t just assume things.”
—L.C., married 55 years

“Any person who’s not willing to be mevater can’t get married. If you can’t be mevater, you can’t live with another person. There will always be hard times, but in normal times, don’t look for trouble. Be grateful to Hashem that everything is normal and well.”
—Esther H., married 65 years

“One of the things I learned from my teachers in elementary school in Bais Yaakov was that in the summer camp of the first Bais Yaakov in Cracow, people were always looking out for each other. That made such an impression on me that I kept it in mind all the time. It works very well in a marriage.”
—Eva H., married 64 years

“Barring intractable and destructive personality disorders, a major factor in making a marriage and relationship work is wanting to make it work. But it’s not always possible to make that happen, despite the best intentions and lots of effort and two good people trying to turn things around. Sometimes the differences and distances and life events are too much to overcome.
“Another important component of the relationship is respect for one another. My husband is very intelligent and learned. He thinks things through and looks at issues from many angles, and I respect him for that. I enjoy asking him questions and having discussions with him, and he enjoys sharing information and ideas. He respects my professional competence and shores up my confidence in my abilities when I doubt myself.
“A corollary of this is for each partner to find fulfillment in their individual roles and life goals. While some women find fulfillment in devoting their lives to their husbands, this would not have worked for me. It’s important to consider seriously the question: When I am older and look back, will I feel that I lived the bulk of my years wisely and to the best of my abilities, or will I feel too much regret?”
—Annie F., married 58 years

“It’s a matter of respect and teamwork. You’ll hit life challenges, and if you don’t have respect for your partner, the marriage can fall apart. A marriage is a contract. Someone has to give in sometimes, or else you’re always at odds and disagreeing with each other. And of course, it’s a mazal and brachah to have a healthy spouse and children.”
—Faygie L., married 51 years

“An important key to success is appreciating what you have and respecting one another. We’re getting older now, but we’re so grateful for the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren (67 great-grandchildren, bli ayin hara!). They fill our lives with joy and take care of us now as we used to take care of them. Who could have ever imagined that we’d get to this point?”
—Shoshanah Zucker, married almost 67 years

(Originally featured in Family First Issue 558)

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Make Marriage Great Again https://mishpacha.com/make-marriage-great-again/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=make-marriage-great-again https://mishpacha.com/make-marriage-great-again/#respond Wed, 15 Mar 2017 03:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=13831 Are you willing to embark on the hard work of unconditional giving? After studying how to maximize his own marriage, Reuven Epstein’s dynamic course helps couples reclaim theirs.

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“It’s hard work” admits Epstein “But once you have that connection all the rest — money issues family issues housework issues — become details that can be worked out between you” (Photos: Amir Levy)

Yitz and Shevy were angry and frustrated. Yitz inspired by his new kollel decided it was time for him and his wife to raise their religious level. He wanted Shevy to shorten her wig and lengthen her skirts. He insisted that they eat only kemach yashan. Then he announced that they had to transfer their young son to a more right-wing cheder.

Shevy for her part was seething. “Out of the blue he starts imposing a zillion new chumras on me!” she railed. “This isn’t what I signed up for when I got married.” In turn Yitz was upset that Shevy wasn’t automatically seconding his proposals. After all isn’t a wife supposed to follow her husband’s direction?

Nachum and Suri were having problems of their own. Suri determined to be the best balabusta kollel wife and mother was a perpetual motion machine. She rose early to make sandwiches and prepare the children for school; at night she helped her kids with homework loaded the washing machine made sure to leave the kitchen spotless and caught up on work assignments. But Nachum instead of appreciating her hard work was spending less and less time at home. “It’s not fair. I do everything around here and instead of helping he disappears!” she fumed. But Nachum had complaints of his own. “Why should I hang around the house?” he asked. “Suri doesn’t pay any attention to me and when she does it’s always to kvetch about something or yell at me.”

Can these marriages be healed? Yes says Reuven Epstein a 32-year-old accountant from Flatbush who is fast becoming a marriage guru for young couples. “People don’t get enough training for marriage ” he maintains. “A month’s worth of chassan or kallah classes teach the basic halachos but they don’t teach people how to handle their marriages when they hit a bump.”

If you want to become an accountant he says you get a degree in accounting. If you want to be a doctor you have to spend a few years in medical school. Why not study for marriage? “Marriage is an even more important undertaking than choosing a parnassah ” he says “and has many more long-term consequences. Shouldn’t people get training for marriage as well?”

That’s precisely what he has set out to do. After training in Eretz Yisrael with a rav known as an expert in shalom bayis issues Reuven came home and began advising couples. Then he translated his rav’s teachings into a clear organized system of 24 classes he calls “Marriage Pro.” He put them online and made them accessible to everyone (some for free and others for a fee that helps defray the costs of the project). Having offered this program to the community he’s now expanding his teachings to dating as well.

“I felt like I had the recipe based on Torah and ma’amarei Chazal. People who followed it succeeded in their marriages. The question became how could I put it into a format that people can easily understand and digest?”

Convince Me

Epstein a tall dynamic young husband and father wears two hats: during the day he’s an accountant at Ben Epstein and Associates a firm in Brooklyn. At night and on Sundays he puts out his marriage advisor sign counseling couples from Brooklyn to Staten Island and beyond.

He has all the traits that characterize a good accountant: perspicacious analytical methodical. But while CPAs are often stereotyped as staid he’s intense and cause-driven although quick to lighten up with a boyish smile and sense of humor. When we meet him in his office he looks fresh and energetic despite having recently returned from a Shabbaton where he delivered a lecture on marriage and answered questions from couples until four in the morning.

Reuven grew up in Flatbush as a Torah Temimah talmid then learned at the Mir Yeshiva in Jerusalem. Before leaving to return to the US he received a brachah from Rav Don Segal who told him “You’re going to get married quickly.”

With that in mind he didn’t immediately sign himself into the BMG “freezer.” He stayed in Brooklyn learning in Beis Yosef Novardok which permitted dating. As the rav had predicted it was quick — on every level. “I got engaged to the third girl I met on our third date ” he says. While this may not be the right path for everyone in his case he says “I just knew.”

The newlyweds returned to Eretz Yisrael the following January where Reuven went back to the Mir. By Pesach he’d transferred to the Jerusalem Kollel of Rav Yitzchok Berkovits where he’d spend the next four and a half years in the semichah program.

“Rabbi Berkovits really wants to produce rabbis who will go into kiruv and he told me that ” Reuven says. “At the time I said ‘But my plans are to go into accounting like my father. If kiruv is such a valuable path I’m willing to listen but you’ll have to convince me.’”

Rabbi Berkovits prevailed and Reuven signed on. Upon finishing the program he immediately received offers for kiruv positions. To his surprise however instead of pushing him to accept them Rabbi Berkovits told him “First get yourself a base in parnassah and do kiruv on the side.” Today Reuven acknowledges the wisdom of the rosh kollel’s approach: By training him for a life of kiruv he prompted Reuven to approach his learning with the seriousness of someone who expects to teach Torah full time.

It was shortly after beginning at the Jerusalem Kollel that Reuven approached his rav Rabbi Y. a talmid of Rav Nosson Tzvi Finkel ztz”l and a maggid shiur in the Mir Yeshiva who was known for his wisdom about shalom bayis. Reuven hoping to maximize his own marriage asked if Rabbi Y. could learn with him.

“Well I give a weekly shiur ” Rabbi Y. responded.

But that wasn’t what Reuven wanted and he knows how to be persistent. “That’s not enough for me ” he said. “I want to learn with you one on one.”

Rabbi Y. agreed but under tough conditions. They had to learn whenever the rabbi was available be it six a.m. or two a.m. And there would be no set length to their sessions which could range from ten minutes to five hours.

Thus began over four years of study under Rabbi Y. during which the rav eventually encouraged Reuven to begin teaching what he’d learned under his guidance. “That sort of shimush was so important ” Reuven says. “For example if a lady came to me crying I learned not to jump in to give her eitzos. I learned that first she just needed me to listen.”

Stay Connected

Now when a couple like Yitz and Shevy come to him he begins by explaining the basic goal of marriage: to create a kesher a connection between the spouses. Then he starts talking about the principles behind a healthy marriage and generally finds that couples will pipe up when he touches a sore spot. That helps him identify the root of the problem and work toward a solution.

For example, Yitz’s problem is that he failed to stay connected to his wife as he made strides in observance. Instead, he tried to simply impose his chumras on Shevy. “Marriage is about two people moving through life side by side,” Reuven says. “If Yitz moves ahead on his own, even if he’s moving in a good direction, he’s stepping away from his wife. His mistake was not bringing her on board. He should have been coming home when he heard an inspiring shiur and sharing it with Shevy. Then the chumras would be a shared decision, not a unilateral proclamation.”

Nachum and Suri also failed to maintain their kesher. Suri was so driven to excel in her duties that she forgot that her most important duty is to maintain a strong connection with her husband. Nachum, feeling superfluous and ignored, reacted by finding other people and activities to connect to. If each would take some time away from their other pursuits and focus on each other, the rest would fall into place. “When people kvetch, the underlying problem is almost always a lack of kesher,” Reuven says. “But you can’t just acknowledge that; you have to turn the theory into practice. You have to be ready to change. Often even a millimeter of change can produce big changes in a relationship.”

Muddled Marriages

If today we think there’s a shidduch crisis, Reuven says, there’s a marriage catastrophe. “For regular couples, shanah rishonah is often a roller coaster. We think everyone should be able to wing it, but that’s not how it works out.”

Why not? After all, earlier generations didn’t divorce nearly as much. “Sensitivities are different today,” he ventures. “The internet age moves so fast that five or ten years already creates a generation gap. People are very attuned and sophisticated about the latest fads in cell phones, gourmet food, clothing styles, and are bothered when they don’t have the latest and greatest.” Previous generations grew up with a single pizza store; today’s generation chooses between hearth-roasted thin-crust pizza, angel hair pasta, and sea bass.

“Young people are exposed to so much today, and it creates a lot of unhealthy behavior,” Reuven says. “Shmiras einayim isn’t just a man’s problem; there are many women nowadays spending hours on social media, getting drawn to certain lifestyles and priorities that aren’t compatible with frum values.” ($3,000 shoes, anyone?)

Reuven doesn’t only believe the rise in flash divorces is a result of young people having a transient, throwaway approach to relationships. “This generation understands what divorce is all about,” he maintains. “But often they see unhealthiness and can’t deal with it. Their parents’ generation worked hard to meet basic needs, and suppressed their desires to indulge. This generation takes material ease for granted, and is more emotionally sophisticated. But the good news is that they’re accustomed to the idea of going to therapy.”

On the other hand, all the psychology in the world won’t help if the therapist doesn’t understand the central tenets of marriage. One of Reuven’s clients came from a home where both parents were therapists, and knew every buzz word. Yet they fought viciously and belittled each other constantly.

Reuven believes that many divorces happen because people give up when they see emotional unhealthiness. There are those who come into marriage with a misguided concept of what it’s about, having never witnessed a normal marriage. Some come in with psychological or emotional problems, hoping marriage will resolve them. “Marriage is not a hospital,” Reuven emphasizes. “You cannot succeed if you’re both sick people, each one looking for the other to take care of him.”

Even in marriages that last, Reuven finds the most common problem is the lack of kesher. He explains that the word davek, or cling, is used only twice in the Torah: once to describe the relationship between man and Hashem, and once to describe how a man should cling to his wife and become one. Man tends to be disconnected in his natural state, and connecting to his wife ideally teaches him how to relate to Hashem. “That’s each partner’s job in a marriage — to become one, to connect, to give without expecting in return,” he says. “It’s hard work, but once you have that connection, all the rest — money issues, family issues, housework issues — become details that can be worked out between you.”

Of course, forming that kesher involves understanding what the other person needs, and those needs are different for men and women. Many people don’t even understand the basic roles of a husband and wife. When asked, “What’s your job in your marriage?” they tend to give answers like, “I bring in the money,” or “I watch the kids and make suppers.”  Instead, it’s crucial to understand what each spouse needs on an emotional level: Men tend to crave respect and honor, while women need to feel loved and appreciated.

Both partners need to feel the other is there for them emotionally, and can feel the other’s pain and confront challenges in a healthy way. “You know how in some stores the employees wear T-shirts that say, ‘What can I do for you?’ ” Reuven asks. “That’s what you should be wearing in your mind when you greet your spouse at the end of the day.”

A Plan

Reuven developed his method of counseling based on his learning with Rabbi Y. He had kept all the notebooks from their time together, and knew they were “filled with solid gold.” Inclined by temperament and training to be systematic, he set about organizing the material into a series of 24 classes he entitled the Marriage Project, which became the “Marriage Pro,” brand.            “If people take the courses, they receive a whole system for understanding marriage. Once they’ve heard them, they speak my language, and it puts our conversation on a whole different level,” Reuven says.

Some of the class titles include: “Take Responsibility for Your Marriage,” “Trust and Control,” “I’m Not a Mind Reader,” “Emptying Your Emotional Jug,” “Before, During, and After a Fight,” “Emotional Allergies and Love Knots,” “Daily Temperature Read and Care Bank,” and “Practical Ways to Maximize Your Marriage.”

Along the way, he received help refining his ideas and building a plan of action. Upon his return to the United States, he and his wife moved to Staten Island, where he took a position at the New Springville Jewish Center in Staten Island under Rabbi Nate Segal. During their three years there, Reuven developed a relationship with Rabbi Yehuda Kovacs and his wife Basya, both of whom had taught communication skills to couples. The Kovacs’s had both worked for Shalom Task Force — Basya was the director of Shalom Workshop, and Yehuda taught many chassanim—but the organization had since closed the workshops. Shalom Task Force’s loss was Epstein’s gain, as the couple agreed to partner with him in presenting marriage workshops based on his system. Videographer Motty Engel came on board to video the classes taking place in attractive homes in front of real people.

Such an ambitious undertaking takes organization and planning. Reuven set about setting himself up as a non-profit organization (he himself makes no money outside of private sessions and speaking engagements). Determined to approach it with seichel, he enlisted successful business personalities in the Jewish community to advise him on how to grow an organization and deal with publicity, budgeting, and scaling. He made sure to identify his target market, which he describes as “couples who have a growth mentality.” He crafted an elevator pitch, and tried to identify the “domino people”— those key folks who bring in all the others so the most amount of people can benefit from the program.

Reuven also began posting shalom bayis lectures on torahanytime.com, to help drive internet traffic and word of mouth to the newly set-up website (www.marriagepro.co). About two months ago, he expanded his platform to live webinars for daters and dating mentors. So far, the feedback has been enthusiastic. One participant wrote that it made him realize that dating with no focus or direction is “like taking all your money you own and investing it with some stranger that you don’t know and have no idea what he will do with your money.”

He’s now in demand for dating talks. He’s finding that some folks aren’t clear about what they’re really looking for, like the young man who turned down shidduch after shidduch because he was convinced he only wanted a wife willing to host 100 people every week for Shabbos. After speaking with him, Reuven teased out that what he really wanted was a very capable, balabusta type who could cheerfully pull off sheva brachos or a big Purim seudah at a moment’s notice; he’d focused on one criterion instead of the overall qualities he sought. But Reuven counseled the young man that two busy people often need some time over Shabbos to reconnect, and hosting 100 people each week wouldn’t leave them much room to grow their relationship.

He also cautions daters to keep an eye out for behavior that may seem unimportant or even “cute” in the short term, but could spell disaster in the long term. A boy who drives fast may be an expert driver, or a reckless person and a showoff; the guy who takes his dates only to lavish places may be generous and a bon vivant, or have no sense of managing money. “Often extremes mimic each other,” Reuven says. “Confidence and arrogance can seem like the same thing, but one is healthy and the other isn’t.”

He stresses that getting to the chuppah isn’t the main goal. “The real work starts afterwards.” he says.

Read the Manual

Reuven is working hard to expand the Marriage Pro project and get the word out. He’d like to do more marriage preparation work, by lecturing in seminaries and yeshivos to young people ready to date. His “Date Like a Pro” program is now available on his site.

Reuven, who is also a rebbi in Ohr Yitzchok yeshivah in Brooklyn and works with Rabbi Zechariah Wallerstein at Ohr Naava Women’s Torah Center in Brooklyn, is currently busy working on a guidebook for married people about the halachos of marriage, scheduled to print after Pesach. It addresses the subject on three levels, from beginner basics through the development of each halachah in the Gemara, following with various piskei halachah in difficult cases that show the different she’ilos and shittos. A second book on shalom bayis is also in the works. With all these resources, surely Yitz and Shevy — and countless other couples — will find the help they need to detangle their sources of stress.

After all, when all else fails, it always pays to read the manual.


 

Dating Yourself

Reuven’s dating webinar included many wise tips for those in the parshah. Here are a few:

  • Before dating someone, you should first date yourself. In other words, ask yourself the same questions you’d want to ask a date: Would you want to live in America or Eretz Yisrael? Would you like to have a large family? Do you think a wife should work part time, full time or not at all? Reuven suggests having five pointed questions prepared for a date before going out, but make sure to know your own answers to them before you start.
  • Don’t just focus on selling yourself. “Like a job interview, dating involves both ‘sell’ and ‘prod’ aspects,” he explains. “You have to sell yourself, but you also have to find out if this is a good fit that makes sense for you.”
  • Daters should verify their date’s history, and make sure any questionable items are really “history.” In other words, if a person used to drink heavily, is that really behind him or her? “Make your history into history,” Epstein cautions. Some indicators of emotional health you may want to keep an eye out for include how people deal with their friends, how they react to friends’ good news and bad news, and how they deal with adversity.
  • In the short term, he tells daters that the most important issue is whether or not you feel a liking for the person you’re dating. “If the two of you have nothing in common, if you just don’t like him or feel any connection, that’s hard to change later,” he advises. “You’ll end up like the couples who tell me, ‘I love my spouse, but I don’t like him (or her).’”
  • For longer-term dating, he advises making three separate lists of things to look for in a spouse: non-negotiable needs (e.g. must be willing to accept a chinuch lifestyle), negotiable “wants” (would prefer a family in klei kodesh), and “would be nice” (tall, short, sense of humor, etc.).  “Focus on the things that will make a long-term difference in your life,” he says.
  • Sometimes the best way to get a feel for someone is not to ask direct questions, but to create a real or fictional straw man. For example, a young man who wants to know how his date really feels about living in Eretz Yisrael could casually relate a story about a married friend’s experience living there, and see what type of reaction it provokes.
  • Even certain professed long-term goals should be evaluated for their true meaning. “Take a guy who wants to be in Chaveirim or Hatzolah,” Reuven says. “What’s his motivation? Is he attracted by the lights and sirens, or does he sincerely want to help people? If his motive is l’Sheim Shamayim, it won’t cause a marriage to suffer. The litmus test is if a wife really needs help but her husband runs off to change someone else’s tire.”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Issue 652)

 

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The Opposite of the Wrong Thing https://mishpacha.com/lifelines-the-opposite-of-the-wrong-thing/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=lifelines-the-opposite-of-the-wrong-thing https://mishpacha.com/lifelines-the-opposite-of-the-wrong-thing/#respond Wed, 18 Jan 2017 05:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=13222 While my parents actually got divorced over two decades into their marriage, the process leading up to it began long before

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S hortly after my parents’ divorce I happened to meet the woman who had made their shidduch.

“I’m so sorry Michal” she said. “I feel terrible about the divorce and I feel guilty for making the match to begin with.”

I was all of 19 not married yet myself. “You made a good shidduch” I told her. “They are the ones who messed it up!”

It was true that my parents had vastly different personalities — my father was quiet passive and deliberate while my mother was loud overemotional and disorganized — but those differences were not what destroyed their relationship. They each expected the other one to do everything and blamed the other one when it didn’t get done. Going into shidduchim I knew it was up to me to make my marriage work.

While my parents actually got divorced over two decades into their marriage the process leading up to it began long before. I remember that when I was in fourth grade my teacher sent a classmate of mine Zehava on an errand. While Zehava was out of the classroom the teacher said that she had something important to tell us. 

“Zehava is in a difficult situation” she explained. “Her parents are getting divorced. We all have to be extra nice and sensitive to her.”

It’s not fair I thought. My parents fight nonstop yet I don’t get any special treatment because they’re not divorced!

If I asked my mother for money for a class trip she would roll her eyes and tell me “Go to your father. It’s his responsibility to make some money for a change.”

When I turned to my father he would say “We have no money because your mother wastes it all.” I was a pawn in the battle between the two of them.

My mother was completely disorganized, so I couldn’t rely on her for anything. I learned early on that if I wanted things, I would have to find my own ways of obtaining them, so I became a very independent young lady. By the time I was in seventh grade I was already babysitting and paying for my own clothing and expenses. If I needed to go somewhere, I would find my own ride or take a bus rather than ask my mother to drive me, knowing that if I waited for her I would get there for the last half hour of the event.

My seventh-grade year coincided with my sister Esther’s leaving to seminary. As the oldest girl, Esther had assumed most of the housekeeping duties, and her departure thrust our house into disarray. At that point, I began fighting with my mother constantly, because she felt I wasn’t doing enough around the house. She herself was helpless when it came to tackling a messy kitchen.
One night, as I was lying in bed cooling off from one of our fights, I came to the conclusion that nothing was going to change unless I made it happen. I got out of bed and marched over to my mother in the kitchen. “I just wanted to say I love you and goodnight,” I told her. Then I leaned over to give her a kiss. In her anger, she pushed me away.
I went back to bed, but the next night I did the same thing. This time, she kept her face in an angry scowl, but she didn’t push me away. Slowly, however, she warmed to this little ritual of ours, and after a few days, she began to return my hug, kiss, and goodnight wish.
She also started sharing her own feelings with me, mostly about how horrible my father was. Often, after venting all her complaints to me, she would end off by saying, “But I’m not complaining!”
When my younger brother began showing signs of rebellion — no surprise, considering his tumultuous home environment — my mother again turned to me for support, crying to me about my brother’s behavior and instructing me to convey certain messages to him, because he wouldn’t listen to her. Soon I became the unofficial family mediator, the one who tried to smooth things out between warring siblings and calm the tensions between my mother and the other children. One thing I couldn’t do, however, was put an end to the hostilities between my parents.
Standing under the chuppah, I promised myself that I was going to do everything right and make my marriage work, no matter what. My husband, Zevy, was more than happy to go along with this arrangement. An easygoing youngest child, he had grown up pampered by his parents and older siblings, and he had no problem letting me do everything.
With the exception of washing the floor on Fridays, Zevy did almost nothing in the house. I rarely asked him for help, and he rarely volunteered. We had three children in four years, and never did he get up for any of them at night. He didn’t take care of them much during the day, either. I was supporting him in kollel, and my job required me to work on the computer until late at night — usually until one or two a.m. — yet I always got up early in the morning to get the kids out. I also did practically all the shopping, housework, and errands.
When he sat at the table, he expected to be served like a king. Once, we were sitting out in the succah when he realized he was missing a knife. I was exhausted, having prepared the entire Yom Tov while juggling my work and the kids, and I had just sat down and was looking forward to enjoying a little bit of my hard work. “I don’t have a knife,” Zevy informed me, and then waited expectantly for me to stand up and get him one. Which I did.
I was the embodiment of the paradigm my seminary teachers had held up for us: the eishes chayil who took everything on her shoulders to enable her husband to learn, while maintaining perfect shalom bayis. Knowing that I, as the akeres habayis, held the keys to the success of my husband and of my marriage, I strove to fulfill all of Zevy’s wishes and expectations without argument or complaint. Sometimes, I’d be holding a baby in one hand and trying to dress a toddler with the other, and I’d look at Zevy and think to myself, Doesn’t he realize that I need some help? But he didn’t offer to pitch in, so I managed by myself rather than endanger our relationship by expressing frustration.
Zevy liked to wear freshly ironed shirts, and I always made sure he had an ironed shirt for the morning. One night, I finished working after two a.m., and by the time I ironed his shirt I was so drowsy that I dropped the iron on my hand. At that point, I didn’t have energy to pay attention to the burn. The next morning, I met a neighbor of mine, who took one look at my hand and exclaimed, “What happened to you?”
I looked down and saw that the wound was open and raw. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said.
“You need to take care of that!” she insisted. “You should see a doctor.”
But I had other things on my agenda that day, and I didn’t have time to tend to a little burn. I ignored it, and it got better by itself, but left an ugly scar.
I never shopped for myself. I just wore whatever clothing and shoes I had, or whatever my mother gave me. The less I focused on myself, the better and holier I felt.
In the meantime, I was continuing to act as the family mediator. Several of my siblings were not on speaking terms with each other, and I obligingly conveyed messages between the non-communicating parties. Often, my mother would call me up and ask me to tell such-and-such to so-and-so, “but not in my name.” Trickier was when she was in a fight with one of my siblings, usually my younger brother, and she would turn to me to broker a truce, which often involved hours of talking to each of them on the phone.
In addition to these peacemaking duties, I also ran an open house, hosting numerous guests every Shabbos and often during the week as well. If someone needed a place to stay for a few weeks, I didn’t bat an eyelash — I simply moved all my kids into one room and gave them my third bedroom. One young woman from a troubled background stayed with us for months, eating all her meals in my house and raiding my refrigerator at will.
When people asked if they could come for a Shabbos meal, I said yes without even thinking. Sometimes, I regretted it afterward, such as when I said yes to ten guests and then couldn’t fit everyone at the table. Often, the coordinator of the local Bikur Cholim called to ask if I could cook supper for a family in need. The answer was always yes.
“Why did you agree to do that?” Zevy would occasionally ask, in annoyance. “You have so much on your head! Couldn’t someone else do it?”
“It’s fine,” I insisted. “I’ll get it done.” I wasn’t like my mother, who couldn’t do anything, or like my father, who sat by watching as nothing got done.
At work, too, I was the quintessential good sport. I worked from home, as part of a team of remote employees, and if someone needed to take off, I was always the one who covered for them. Many nights, I stayed up alone finishing a joint project for which we were all paid equally.
After my first two births, I bounced back to myself immediately. My third birth was extremely difficult, however, and after that I was physically and emotionally drained. My parents and in-laws came to visit, as they did each time I had a baby, but that resulted in more work for me, not less. I tried to push myself to take care of the kids and the house, until one day it suddenly hit me: If I don’t take care of myself, no one will!
“I had enough!” I shouted aloud at the walls, when I was home alone. “I take care of everyone — but now that I need help, no one is taking care of me!”
In an act of defiance, I went to the dentist, for the first time in years. I also decided to buy myself a new outfit for Shabbos, and I allowed myself to get a babysitter and go out with my sister a few times. When I went back to my job, I cut back on my work hours. I also informed Zevy that I wanted to go back to school to complete my master’s degree.
“But how will we pay for it?” he asked. “We don’t have the money.”
“I don’t care,” I retorted. “I need to do something for myself for a change. We’ll dig into savings.”
I didn’t want people stepping all over me anymore, so I stopped having guests. When the Bikur Cholim coordinator called to ask me to cook a meal, I said, “Please don’t call me anymore.” She was quite taken aback.
In the process of starting to take care of myself, I actually lost most of my friends. I had always been the one to call my friends to say hi, or suggest that we go somewhere together, and once I stopped picking up the phone, none of them did, either. Apparently, the friends I attracted were people who didn’t take much initiative, and when I stopped investing in the relationships, the friendships just petered out.
One friend, whom I used to speak to on a regular basis, called me after six months and said, “Michal, I haven’t spoken to you in so long! I’ve been a horrible friend!”
I could tell that she was waiting for me to say, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” but I wasn’t about to say anything of the sort. It wasn’t okay that my relationships were one-sided and I was always the one doing everything for everyone!
The one friend who stuck with me despite my newfound selfishness was my husband. “What’s bothering you?” Zevy kept asking me. “Is there something I can do?” In his desperation to make things better and placate me, he started doing the food shopping, pitching in with Erev Shabbos preparations, and helping with the laundry.
In the beginning, it was a real challenge for me to ask him for help. One day, I had to leave the house for a work meeting, and my regular babysitter canceled. I spent hours on the phone searching for a replacement, and when I realized that there were absolutely no babysitters to be had, I called Zevy in kollel, and, for the first time ever, asked him to come home and babysit.
Zevy was reluctant to leave in middle of seder. “Did you try calling the neighbors?” he asked. “What about your niece, maybe she’s available?”
Hearing this, I exploded, which was highly uncharacteristic of me. “If I called you in kollel, that means I’m desperate,” I snapped. “Don’t ask me now to try this and try that — I already made at least 20 phone calls to find a babysitter.”
“Oh, okay,” he said. “I’ll come home, no problem.”
When I came home from the meeting, Zevy had a question. “Tell me something,” he said. “How was I supposed to know that you made 20 phone calls before you called me in kollel?”
“When’s the last time I asked you to babysit during seder?” I challenged him. “Do you know how many times I twisted myself into a pretzel rather than disturb you?”
“Actually, I don’t,” he said. “You never told me that you needed me to come home. You didn’t have to be desperate before you called me — you could have just called and told me that you were having a hard time making arrangements for the kids, and then we could have figured something out together. Just because you never asked me to leave seder to babysit, does that mean that when you do ask me I’m supposed to drop everything without making a single suggestion? If you decided to twist yourself into a pretzel other times, why is that my fault? You never asked, so I assumed you didn’t want or need my help.”
Zevy’s logic was maddening. “How male of you,” I muttered.
“Yes,” he responded calmly. “And how female of you to expect me to read your mind. If this has been bothering you, why didn’t you speak up?”
“Because I didn’t want to get into a fight!” I cried.
“What fight?” he asked. “If you ask me for help, that’s a fight?”
“No, but if you don’t want to do it, then it becomes a whole argument.”
“Why?”
Why, indeed. “Because I don’t want to end up like my parents, that’s why!”
Zevy stood quietly for a few moments, digesting that statement. “So let me get this straight. Because you didn’t want to end up like your parents, you never asked me to babysit, and now it’s my fault that I didn’t know you needed me to babysit? If you don’t speak up, how do you expect me to know what you want?”
It was a fair question. True, Zevy wasn’t the most intuitive person, but he was eager to please. Would it have been so bad if I had asked him for help calmly — not in my mother’s hysterical tones — rather than push myself to the limit in order to avoid antagonizing him in the slightest?
With that in mind, I asked Zevy, a few days later, if he could please get the kids out in the mornings so that I could sleep. “I can’t burn the candle at both ends,” I explained. “It’s too much for me.”
“Sure,” he said. And he did, adding the morning shift to the many other responsibilities he had taken on himself.
The sad part was that because it took me so long to learn how to ask Zevy for help, when I finally did start speaking up, my requests came along with a heaping dose of resentment. I hadn’t even known that I was bottling up resentment all the years; had anyone asked me, I would have said I was totally fine doing everything by myself. But once I realized that I had pushed myself too far, I regretted all the times I had turned myself into a shmatteh.
“I feel like you have a mountain of tainehs against me,” Zevy complained to me one day. “No matter what I do, it’s never going to be enough.”
I realized, then, that my militant campaign to “put myself first” just fed my bitterness, and wasn’t doing anything for my relationships. But I already knew that my eishes chayil persona wasn’t entirely healthy, either. With Zevy’s encouragement, I went for professional help to work through the emotional baggage I was carrying, baggage whose existence I hadn’t previously been aware of.
My therapist helped me understand that as a child, I had adopted the role of peacemaker as a survival tactic. This remained my default setting into adulthood, causing me to avoid confrontation at all costs and do everything myself rather than impose on others. I never consciously decided to stretch myself past my limits — I did it reflexively, not realizing that there was another option. Because I was so programmed to put others’ needs ahead of my own, I hadn’t even possessed the self-awareness to realize that there was a volcano of resentment brewing beneath the surface.
There was a fine line, I discovered, between doing chesed and being taken advantage of, and that line was whether I was able to make an active choice. If I chose to extend myself so that my husband could learn or rest, that was fine; if I did so because I felt compelled to, that wasn’t fine.
Learning to acknowledge my needs and not extend myself to the point of resentment helped me in other areas as well. One day, I got an e-mail from my brother asking me to tell my father something. “You can tell him yourself,” I wrote back. “I’m not the family switchboard.”
When my mother called me frantically and told me that I must call my sister and find out why she was upset at her, I said, “Ma, I think it would be better if you spoke to her directly.”
She begged me to call, but I remained firm yet respectful in my refusal to be dragged into the dynamic.
At work, I was still the team member who most often picked up the slack — but the difference was that I learned to do it of my own volition, using seichel. If I filled in for a colleague, it was because I was choosing to go the extra mile, not because I was required to. And if doing that chesed came at too high a cost to me or my family, I could decline and not feel guilty.
It took a few years for Zevy and me to get it right. I learned to identify my needs, communicate what I wanted, and stop overcompensating for the people around me, while he learned to tune in to me, anticipate my needs, and become an equal partner in our home. Today, he’s much more involved in childcare and the running of the house, and he’s actually happier that way. So am I.
If there’s one thing I learned from this process, it’s that the opposite of the wrong thing isn’t necessarily the right thing. When I stood under the chuppah, I was determined to build a good marriage, but I didn’t know what a good marriage looked like. Going to the other extreme to avoid the mistakes my parents made just caused me to make different mistakes, which could have proven just as damaging in the long run.
My parents didn’t know how to communicate and work things out — and neither did I. Baruch Hashem, I learned how to do it before it was too late.
(Originally featured in Mishpacha Issue 644)
To have your story retold by C. Saphir, e-mail a brief synopsis to lifelines@mishpacha.com or call +1.718.686.9339 extension 87204 and leave a message. Details will be changed to assure confidentiality.
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I Can’t Respect My Wife https://mishpacha.com/adviceline-i-cant-respect-my-wife/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=adviceline-i-cant-respect-my-wife https://mishpacha.com/adviceline-i-cant-respect-my-wife/#respond Wed, 18 Jan 2017 04:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=13190 It’s extremely awkward for me to write this question to a women’s magazine, but for various reasons, I can’t go for help, and the lack of real respect and deeper connection in my home bothers me terribly,

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“Here’s the bottom line — and it’s nothing new: We can only change ourselves. If you want your marriage to change you have to find ways to endear yourself to your wife. Instead of finding a topic of conversation that interests you and then being disappointed that she can’t follow or appreciate the thread find a topic that interests her. Become a listener. Explore her world even if it’s a very concrete non-intellectual world ” explains Dr. Shula Wittenstein

M y wife is a difficult person to respect. I come from a home where I saw tremendous respect between my parents who are very much in sync with each other; they’re both very kind intelligent interesting people which gives people plenty to connect to and respect. My wife on the other hand isn’t a particularly nice person and her tongue and rough manner are far from respectable. She’s also not very intelligent. If I could at least respect her ideas and opinions I’d be happy but she’s more on the simplistic superficial side. If I try to bring up conversations beyond the weather and what the kids did that day she goes blank and becomes disinterested. She can talk about things or people but never ideas.

I long to have a mutually respectful marriage but hard as I try to find things to respect in my wife it’s nearly impossible. Understandably I don’t feel that she respects me as a person either but it doesn’t seem to bother her. As I said she’s not particularly deep and living day after day in a home where there’s little connection but no friction suits her just fine. It doesn’t suit me at all though. I think and feel deeply and long for meaningful emotional connection.

You may advise me to think back to what brought us together to begin with and I’ll tell you that being young and naive the only guidance I got at the time was “If you don’t see problems go for it. Don’t live in a dream world.” I just assumed I was doing the right thing by not looking for problems.

I’m not looking for problems now either and we live in a peaceful home but this lack of real respect and deeper connection bothers me terribly. Is there anything you can suggest?

 

Rabbi Ilan Feldman

Rabbi Ilan Feldman is the rav of Congregation Beth Jacob in Atlanta Georgia. The families who are part of his vibrant dynamic community regularly turn to Rabbi Feldman to receive his wise counsel on both halachic and interpersonal issues.

At first glance, your situation seems hopeless. You want a deep, meaningful, and respectful relationship with your wife. You’ve seen such a marriage by observing your parents, yet not only is your wife uninterested and uninteresting, she’s hard to respect because she’s not nice. You never really chose to marry her; others told you to do so since there was nothing wrong and assured you it would all work out. One senses that being in such a marriage dooms you to loneliness and a cold peace with your wife at best, until the end.

I have good news for you. There is a pathway out of this. You can have a marriage with this person that’s defined by love, sharing, and respect, and it doesn’t require her to change at all.

To have such a marriage, you have to be willing to let go of your certitude in assessing your wife and her traits. Your version of your wife is so fixed that it clouds your ability to see her any other way. Notice how many times you declare that your wife “is” a certain way (I counted five). You have assigned a quality and character to your wife. She just “is” the way you say she is, because your experience of her and your opinion of her “is” what she is. Problem is, once you’ve indicted and convicted her for being a certain way, it’s likely all further interactions with her will reinforce and support that conviction. You’re trapped in a marriage not with your wife, but with your version of your wife. And you hold the keys to getting out of that trap.

A useful tool to help people alienated from each other is to have them put themselves in the other’s place. They are asked to articulate, as powerfully and effectively as possible, the other party’s view of things, as if they were an advocate effectively promoting them and their cause.

Here’s an educated guess as to what we’d hear if we asked your wife to describe the dynamics of your marriage:

My husband has this gold standard against which he measures our marriage. He wants our marriage to be as good as his parents’. To him they are perfect. I began to realize early on in my marriage that I’d never measure up, so I began to shut down. When he’d raise topics for discussion, I just tried to avoid them, because why should I expose myself as dumb and superficial? And, though I’m not proud of it, sometimes I am short with him, because I feel bad that he doesn’t think of me as worthy of relating to because I’m not deep or interesting, by his definition. I raise his children, tend to the house, but somehow I’m not worthy of his respect. The truth is, I just try to survive his nonverbal disapproval of my very being by staying out of his way, doing what is expected, and exposing my “superficial” self as little as possible. If he would only let me be me, respect me for being me, I could be a good friend, even fun to be with. I actually look up to him and used to love hearing how he saw things, but I feel he’s withholding not only approval, but his very self from me until I somehow earn it. It’s terribly lonely.

Often, we become so fixed in our view of an issue that we forget that it’s nothing more than our view, and doesn’t define reality. If we’re open enough to allow for the possibility that our view is just a view, but not the truth, we can begin to let go of the “facts” and allow for other possibilities to emerge in the relationship.

Every husband must realize that with the ring you gave under the chuppah, came promises. No matter that they weren’t verbalized; they’re universally expected, and are part of the basic commitment made in a marriage. You promised to respect your wife, and not to compare her to others. You promised to share your life with her, not to withhold yourself until she deserves you. You promised to give her a chance to address your needs if she didn’t manage to do so successfully at first, not to write her off as hopeless. And you promised to be interested in her world, even if it wasn’t your world.

You have a choice in this marriage, and the power to make the difference in it. You can continue to notice your wife’s inadequacies in righteous loneliness, and judge her unworthy of being respected and confided in, and that’s the marriage you’ll have. (A root cause of sinas chinam is this certitude in defining others: “I know who you are, and you aren’t worth it.”) Or, you can give of yourself to the person you chose to share your life with. You don’t really know her as well you think. Consider initiating time with her, going for walks and asking her about her day, her laundry, her pleasure or frustration with the children.

Find out what’s important to her, and make that important to you. You will surely discover an entire universe that has gone unnoticed, right under your nose.

 

Rabbi Dr. Ivan Lerner

Rabbi Dr. Ivan Lerner is a well-known clinical and industrial psychologist. He has been a principal a dynamic community rabbi and personal therapist. Currently Dr Lerner is a lecturer and consulting psychologist to schools businesses and Jewish organizations in the United States and Europe.

You were certainly blessed to come from a good home in which you observed respect and kindness. You mention that, now too, you live in a peaceful home with no friction. What an incredible blessing! All too often I am presented with situations where marriages are fraught with friction and tension. When there’s basic shalom bayis there’s much to be grateful for.

When you were a child, you observed your parents’ marriage from the outside, just as your children are observing your marriage now. Although you viewed your parents’ marriage as idyllic, the truth is that you don’t know what things were hidden from you. I’m assuming, based upon what you’ve said, that your children are blessed to be growing up in an environment of shalom bayis. Therefore, despite your personal frustrations, their view of their parents’ home may also be somewhat idyllic — which is fine. Make no mistake: having shalom bayis is a huge blessing and an excellent prescription for raising healthy kids.

I’m not clear about your description of your wife as being “rough” and “far from respectable.” Usually such individuals create friction and tension in a marriage. Therefore, I’m happy but a bit perplexed when you admit that there is, baruch Hashem, shalom bayis. Your wife’s intellectual capacity should not stand in the way of you being able to respect and love her. If you need an intellectual challenge, find a good chavrusa. You assume that she doesn’t respect you. Don’t be so sure. It may be that you’re transferring your feelings onto her.

The core issue is your desire to be loved, understood, and respected. This is normal and natural — just about all of us want the same thing. Is your wife really incapable of giving you these things?

You state that you “don’t have the option of going for help.” Why not? If you had an important medical or dental issue you would seek help. What needs to be established is: 1) Is your wife capable of giving you what you need? 2) Are you willing to invest the time and effort to work together with her to improve your marriage? If not, then you’re choosing to live in the painful reality you describe.

Over the years I’ve worked with husbands and wives who’ve had similar frustrations to yours. Sometimes, through good marriage counseling, significant improvements are made. On the other side of the spectrum, on several occasions, a wife or a husband insisted on getting divorced in the hope that they’d find a better partner. My experience is that divorce seldom solves the problem, especially when children are involved. It usually complicates the situation by creating a slew of bigger problems.

When a couple lives in a home where shalom bayis exists, there’s usually a way to build on the existing goodwill and teach each partner skills for improving their relationship.

Right now you sound lonely, alienated, and misunderstood. That’s a painful place to be. It is up to you whether or not you wish to remain in that space. I hope that you and your wife will see a qualified marriage counselor soon. May you have brachah and hatzlachah.

 

Dr. Shula Wittenstein

Dr. Shula Wittenstein Psy.D is a psychologist and an expert in CBT and EMDR. She specializes in couples therapy and also treats trauma survivors anxiety and depression. She has a private practice in Jerusalem.

It seems that what’s hurting you most is loneliness and lack of connection — you want a richer relationship with your wife, and feel she can’t provide it. You mention how in sync your parents are, and how you and your wife aren’t. It’s therefore hard to respect her.

Bear in mind that it’s easier for two people who are very similar to get along well. The people who are your role models for marriage had similar intelligence and hashkafos and they made marriage look effortless. Realize that even a marriage such as theirs no doubt required much work. You may have assumed spouses just click, when in reality it takes commitment and selflessness to bridge the gap between any two people.

As you mentioned, many therapists would recommend going back to a baseline time when you two felt positive about each other as a way of rekindling connection. But you feel that won’t work for you because you never connected deeply. What’s striking about your question is your overall approach to relationships. Though you want to relate deeply, it seems you might have been passive, and let the chips fall where they may. You said you were told “not to look for problems,” and you followed that advice. You took a neutral stance in your approach to shidduchim — there were no demands of depth or strong connection; you were looking for “no problems.” And that’s what you got. This often happens , as people get married young, at times with undeveloped awareness of their emotional needs. Or perhaps, as life challenges emerge, one’s needs simply change.

At this point in your marriage, you’re feeling frustrated. You want more. One of the best ways to effect change is to ask oneself: “Where am I in this picture? What am I doing to try to bridge the gap and create the connection I desire?” If this isn’t your starting point, then you’ll find yourself with the same results that led you here in the first place: no problems, but an unquenched thirst for understanding and relationship.

Let’s start by looking at things you might be taking for granted, taking inventory of what you do have. You feel that it’s impossible to find anything to respect in your wife. Realize that having a peaceful home with no friction is no small feat. There’s inevitably differences that arise when living with someone and raising a family together. If you’ve been living peaceably all the years you’re married, it says a great deal about both of you. Your wife must be putting in a great deal of effort to keep the house running smoothly and the peace intact. And you must be putting in considerable work as well. That’s the raw material you are working with: a woman who’s essentially committed to peace and contributing to this joint venture of marriage and family.

The psychological literature talks about marriages that are conflicted and those that are neutral/dead — completely passionless, with the two partners living parallel lives. The latter is worse than the former since there’s no emotion involved — the spouses don’t care enough to fight for their marriage. But that doesn’t sound like what’s going on in your marriage. You don’t describe frostiness or apathy, just a lack of depth.

That lack is painful and you want to remedy it. You say it doesn’t bother your wife that she doesn’t respect you. It sounds to me that you feel unappreciated. You feel that your wife hasn’t thought about what makes you unique and special. Every husband wants his wife to respect him, and underscore his unique qualities.

Here’s the bottom line — and it’s nothing new: We can only change ourselves. And really, that’s the good news. This realization prevents us from feeling powerless, and helps us take ownership of our lives.

If you want your marriage to change, you have to find ways to endear yourself to your wife. Instead of finding a topic of conversation that interests you, and then being disappointed that she can’t follow or appreciate the thread, find a topic that interests her. Become a listener. Explore her world even if it’s a very concrete, non-intellectual world. Instead of shutting down and withdrawing, stay engaged and be present. If what excites her is a good sale, look out for the circulars, and let her know when Macy’s has their one-day sales. The more you give to your wife, the more you’ll connect.

In addition, once your wife feels like you’re interested in her, k’mayim hapanim el panim, she’ll probably reach out and take more of an interest in your world. You’d be surprised how touched she may be when you get into her head space — she might be waiting to be acknowledged by you.

A wife is only as valuable to you as you make her. If you only look at her as superficial and rough and unintelligent, that’s what you’ll see yourself as — a guy who’s married to a superficial, unintelligent woman. Realize that your respect for her connects to your respect for yourself as well. If you can see the part of your wife that’s hardworking and loyal and devoted, than you’ll be a man who’s married to a devoted wife. You’ll respect her — and yourself — more.

Yes, there’s still a part of you that wants to be respected for your intelligence and sensitivity. She may or may not be able to fill that void completely. Often spouses can’t. That doesn’t mean that you can’t have a rewarding, deep relationship.

It’s important to find chavrusas, mentors, and friends who can connect with those facets of your personality. No one person can meet all of another’s needs. We all have many facets to our selves and need a variety of people in our lives to meet those different needs. Find people who can connect with other aspects of your self — and appreciate your wife for the peaceful home she gives you.

(Originally featured in Family First Issue 526)

 

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The Before and After of Great Marriages https://mishpacha.com/the-before-and-after-of-great-marriages/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-before-and-after-of-great-marriages https://mishpacha.com/the-before-and-after-of-great-marriages/#respond Tue, 12 Nov 2013 22:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=6799 While the journey to the chuppah is often fraught with questions, conflict, and doubt, it seems that the real issues begin on the walk back down the aisle. Rabbi Ben Tzion Shafier, known for the advice, wisdom, and wit he shares on his popular site, The Shmuz, examines some of the most common bumps in the road, for both dating and married couples.

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R

abbi Ben Tzion Shafier was a “mild-mannered, innocent high school rebbi” when his rosh yeshivah, Rav Henoch Leibowitz ztz”l, tapped him to start an outreach program for working guys. Almost overnight, “The Shmuz” was born — a series of lectures on a wide variety of topics in Yiddishkeit, presented with trademark humor, wit, and Torah wisdom, and it quickly took off, reaching a depth and scope that left its creator stunned.

But as his base of listeners grew, the questions they asked started getting thornier and more complex, revolving around shidduchim, marriage, and shalom bayis, and it didn’t take very long for Rabbi Shafier to realize that the nice and easy newlywed challenges were a thing of the past. Now things were more complicated than ever, and the picture was looking precarious.

“I realized that had there been some groundwork set at the beginning, in the early stages of marriage and dating, then a lot of pitfalls would have been avoided later on,” says Rabbi Shafier. He reveals that the burgeoning divorce rate among frum couples was the impetus for his newest free lecture series, “The Marriage Seminar,” which includes 12 hour-long sessions on such germane topics as gender differences, the Torah view of love, changing habits, and why couples fight.

From his vast experience counseling couples during both engagement and marriage, Rabbi Shafier has a unique vantage point on relationships today and the forces that dissolve them. “We’re seeing significantly more divorces today than in previous years, and I attribute it to three reasons. Firstly, people are more fragile today; they lack a certain ‘wholesomeness,’ a sense of being comfortable with who they are and where they fit in the world. There are also many psychological issues that people struggle with today. Generally speaking, when these factors are brought into a marriage, they get magnified. A healthy relationship requires a solid, healthy human being because it requires a lot of give-and-take, flexibility, and reasonable expectations. If you yourself are fighting demons — emotionally, psychologically, or socially — then there’s very little bandwidth left over to let another person in and to give to that person.”

He cites the “age of consumerism” as the second biggest factor in many divorces today, the premise of which is that there’s always a better, newer model out there. “Marriage is a disposable commodity in today’s culture, where we’re all about chewing things up and spitting them out. Twenty years ago, the question was, ‘Can this marriage be saved?’ Today, the question is, ‘Should the marriage be saved?’ I spent two and a half hours with a woman trying to convince her that her marriage could not only be saved, but she could be happily married. And she got back to me and said, ‘Nope. I want out! It’s not worth it.’ That was the first time in recent history that I actually broke down crying. What a tragedy.”

The third and perhaps the most familiar issue Rabbi Shafier identifies is one that may make us squirm a bit uncomfortably — if we can stop texting long enough to pay attention. “Ten years ago, I called us the ‘busy generation.’ Now that label is so outdated that at best I could call us the ‘indescribably distracted generation.’ What happens in a marriage is that by the time the kids are school age, the couple spends no time together at all. Take this challenge: Log how much time you spend as a couple, enjoying each other’s company — without your BlackBerry.

“A marriage, by definition, is a relationship that’s built on love and affection and a common identity. If you don’t work on the marriage, the bond starts to weaken and the couple drifts apart.”

He says the couples who begin bickering as their connections wane are actually in a better position than the couples who simply become married strangers, because at least the former have a wake-up call that may spur them to action. “I just had a couple here, married 30-something years, and they want a divorce because they have no emotional connection. They literally share a house, bills, and kids, and nothing else. That’s what happens when you spend zero special time together.”

His straight-shooter style and practical advice have been instrumental in helping save countless marriages, but Rabbi Shafier cites two particular examples of recent success stories that are just the tip of the iceberg in the amount of work that begs to be done.

“I have a close talmid who I can call on, day or night, and he’ll be available for me at the drop of a hat. Except for Tuesday nights. Because Tuesday nights, he’s on a date with his wife and there’s nothing in the world that comes before that commitment,” Rabbi Shafier notes, with a proud smile. “Another time, a newly married guy called up and he was very distraught. What should he do? His wife wears skirts that barely cover her knees. What should he tell her? I said, ‘She went to 12 years of Bais Yaakov where all they did was talk about skirt length. You think she doesn’t know what’s tzniyus and what’s not? If you say something, she’ll feel awful and you’ll damage your relationship with her. Instead, say not a word and just work on your marriage. As a result, she’ll become secure and confident, she’ll feel strong enough to resist societal pressure, and the skirts will get longer.’

“This is a real success story because undoubtedly, this couple’s marriage will be dramatically different, just from having the right perspective from the beginning.”

 CASE 1 >> Combat Zone?

Dovid and Batya are hitting it off and the shidduch is serious, but Dovid senses something subtly wrong. During their fourth date, he gives over a vort with passion and pride. When he glances up at Batya for approval, she smugly replies, “Really? My rav in seminary said exactly the opposite.” Finally, Dovid pinpoints what’s bothering him as he wonders: Is she overly combative? Will I be able to set the tone for halachah in the home or will everything I say be challenged?

Before I answer, let’s put this into perspective. If this is the first time Dovid has seen this type of response, it should be clear that he can’t draw any conclusions yet. To take one incident and create an entire “personality portrait” from it wouldn’t be wise. But let’s assume that this wasn’t the first time Dovid feels that Batya was combative. Let’s say he’s seen this type of reaction quite a number of times and he feels that it actually represents who she really is. In that case the real question Dovid has to ask himself is this: What criteria will I use to determine who I’m marrying?

Unfortunately, most people use the “shopping list” approach. They think through various attributes and traits and come up with a list of what they “need” to be happily married: “This is what I would like, this I can take or leave. But this, under no circumstances, am I willing to accept.” I call this the “Mr. Potato Head Method,” where a person isn’t looking for what Hashem has designated, but rather has a clearly defined list of what he thinks he needs, and he looks for the person who comes closest.

If Dovid is using the Mr. Potato Head Method, he might well decide Batya isn’t what he’s looking for. After all, who wants a woman who is domineering?

If, however, Dovid is dating from a Torah and bitachon perspective, then his only criterion will be to find the girl Hashem has designated as his bashert. In this approach the person is looking to find his bashert, not make his bashert.

There are two components to this Torah-true method: the Paper Test and the Bashert Test. The Paper Test involves looking at the proposed match on paper to see if it looks like a potential marriage partner — that there is enough similarity between the boy and the girl to give it a reasonable try. If a shidduch passes the Paper Test, then the boy and girl go out.

Next comes the Bashert Test. Both parties need to ask themselves a very essential question: Do I instinctively feel that this is the right person for me?

Many times, I heard my rebbi, Rav Alter Henoch Leibowitz ztz”l, say that Hashem has given each person a “supercomputer” — your seichel, your intuitive wisdom that can be trusted to judge if this is the right one for you. You tap into that by asking yourself, Do I feel comfortable with her? Do I enjoy the dates? Do I look forward to seeing her again? If this is not the right shidduch, you’re not going to enjoy this particular person’s company. If, however, you went out a number of times and you are enjoying the dates, and you feel warmer feelings each time you go out, that’s the sign that this is the one Hashem has chosen for you. Even so, it might well be that the girl or boy has qualities that you wouldn’t have chosen, had you been given the task of making your bashert. But you aren’t — that’s Hashem’s job. And part of bitachon is trusting that Hashem knows better than you what is for your best.

In Dovid and Batya’s case, the Paper Test has presumably checked out, which is why they agreed to date in the first place. Now they are at the Bashert Test. When he hits this snag involving Batya’s outspokenness, Dovid can ask himself the essential questions: Do I enjoy Batya’s company? Do I like her? If the answer is, No, I’m not comfortable with her, then it’s clear that she is not the right one for him.

If, however, Dovid’s answer is, Yes, I’m comfortable with Batya. I enjoy her company, it just feels right, then essentially he has his answer — she is the right one for him, even though there is an aspect of her personality that he doesn’t appreciate. The basic premise is that Hashem knows what he needs to be happy in life and both Dovid and Batya, like every other couple, will need to work on certain things in their marriage until 120.

If this perspective is important in dating, it is absolutely vital in marriage. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a husband or wife say anxiously, “How do I know? Maybe I married the wrong one!” And there is only one answer: If you did a normal hishtadlus, including the Paper and the Bashert tests, then you have every right to assume that the person you married is the one Hashem intended for you. Hashem directed you to this person and He designated specific challenges for the two of you. The “right one” may not look like your perfect vision, and there will be adjustments that both of you will have to make. Every marriage has challenges. There is no such thing as a “perfect couple.” And if you a find a couple who say, “We never had any issues” — you have to question whether they are being honest with you. Part and parcel of a good marriage is growth and change. Recognizing that Hashem knows what’s best for you, and has brought you to the right person, is essential to then go through the difficult growth process that a successful marriage requires.

 

 CASE 2 >> Picture Perfect

Shimon likes Chaya and after three dates, he would consider marrying her, but there is something about her appearance that isn’t that perfect look, and this is holding him back. Should Shimon continue with the shidduch?

Being physically attracted to one’s spouse is important, so if Shimon likes Chaya but isn’t attracted to her, it might well be a sign she isn’t the right one for him. But here is where things get complicated. Many times, what holds a person back isn’t the intuitive sense that “she’s not for me,” but his preconceived notion of what he thinks he needs or wants. The way to tell is to ask himself: What’s holding me back here? If, after honest introspection, Shimon determines that he’s secretly hoping to marry a girl whose looks will earn the admiration of his friends and family, then he has to work through this realization and see where he truly wants to be in his dating hashkafos. Is he going to force his will on the Ribono shel Olam? Or will he take a step back and admit that ultimately it isn’t his decision whom to marry, but rather, Hashem chose a woman for him, and all he needs to do is find her?

Chazal tell us that a bas kol goes out 40 days before a person is conceived, saying, “ploni l’plonis” — this boy is designated for that girl. Many people in shidduchim express their sincere wish to hear what that bas kol said. Rav Wolbe ztz”l writes that today, the bas kol is actually the feeling of comfort and “rightness” that two people get when they date each other.

In a case where Shimon is perfectly comfortable with Chaya but he is worried about what his friends and family will say about her appearance, he has to acknowledge a basic truth: If he does not marry Chaya and instead pursues a girl who fits his “dream wife” profile, then ultimately, he may not end up being happy.

In a situation like Shimon’s, if he discovers that Chaya is the right one for him, he can either accept Hashem’s vision of his future, or he can try to concoct his own. The problem is that it’s highly unlikely that any human being can choose better than his Creator.

 

 CASE 3 >> What a Surprise

One day a few months after getting married, Gila is blissfully doing a load of laundry when she suddenly discovers … a pack of cigarettes in her new husband’s shirt. Gila has always had strong feelings against smoking, ingrained in her since she was a young girl. Now she is appalled. How can I tolerate — never mind respect — Shloimy now that I know he smokes?!

The first reality that a couple must come to terms with is that in any marriage, issues will arise. The success or failure of their marriage is often based on how they deal with them.

In this situation there are two distinct issues: the smoking, and the lack of respect.

Let’s deal with the smoking itself first. Shloimy is going to have to deal with Gila’s outrage, and Gila will have to deal with Shloimy’s addiction to cigarettes.

Change is very difficult under the best of circumstances, and in the scenario above, the situation becomes more dicey because Gila came into the marriage thinking Shloimy was not a smoker. Shloimy needs to understand where Gila is coming from and do everything in his power to try to quit smoking. Shloimy is not allowed to be dismissive of Gila’s concerns, or turn the problem onto her, as in, “What’s the matter with you? What’s the big deal?”

For her part, Gila has to understand that smoking is a major problem for Shloimy and the fact that he continues to smoke does not mean that he doesn’t love and respect her. Perhaps Gila can picture being asked to stop speaking lashon hara. Can she do it? Maybe for an hour, but for a whole day? And this is a halachic requirement that encompasses approximately 35 aveiros with each forbidden word uttered! Gila can focus on realizing how difficult change is, even when one knows that a behavior is assur, dangerous to oneself, and harmful to others. She would do well to acknowledge that change is slow and difficult and she needs to learn how to live with Shloimy’s smoking habit until he breaks it. If he doesn’t succeed, then it’s something that both he and Gila will have to deal with in a mature, rational manner.

And it is at this point, when one spouse is unable or unwilling to change, that major shalom bayis problems often develop. It’s clear that the behavior isn’t going to stop and the other spouse is forced to make a decision: Do I want to be happy, or do I want to be miserable? If she wants to be happy, she will need to accept him, nicotine and all. Yes, he really should quit, but chances are he won’t, and what does that mean for them as a couple for the next 60, 70 years? To help her make the right decision, Gila can remind herself that Shloimy probably also has issues with some of her behaviors — no one is perfect, and it is still okay to respect and love someone who is flawed. This will enable her to empathize with Shloimy instead of resent him for his fault. She can reframe her thoughts: It’s so hard to change, especially with a substance as addictive as nicotine. Wow! I can only imagine what a challenge this must be for him.

But even after they solve the smoking, there is still the issue of respect. Interestingly, though, this isn’t Shloimy’s problem — this one belongs to Gila alone.

Any time a spouse says, “How can I respect him if he does such-and-such?” it means that she has the problem of distilling the totality of Shloimy’s essence to a tiny flaw. He is probably a ben Torah, a fine husband, a good person — and he has a problem. When we look at a diamond that has a tiny imperfection, we don’t call the diamond “a flaw” — it’s still a diamond. If Gila no longer respects her husband, then she’s reduced him to a cigarette! To break out of this dangerous tunnel vision, Gila can realize that if anyone were to judge her by her weaknesses, it would be unfair and unflattering. Developing a broader, more mature outlook on people is going to be Gila’s avodah if she is to nurture and develop a healthy, happy marriage.

Now, in case Shloimy’s approach is I have every right to smoke and no one can tell me to stop, here too it really depends on their attitude. Studies show that 70 percent of successful marriages have major irreconcilable differences. If he has a thriving business in New York City, and for medical reasons she needs to live in San Diego, there’s no middle-ground. If she wants to send the children to a chassidishe cheder and he only wants his kids in litvishe yeshivos, you can’t send the kids to school with peyos behind one ear. There is no compromise position.

Nevertheless, these differences don’t destroy a marriage, as long as the two partners come to an understanding that by definition, two different people will have differences of opinions and irreconcilable differences are an inescapable part of marriage. The  couple that accepts and understands this from the start won’t find themselves shocked and overwhelmed when these inevitable differences rear their head.

 

 CASE 4 >> No Comparison

Sarah really admired and liked Chaim, but after two dates, Chaim’s mother nixed the shidduch. A few months later, Sarah met Boruch, but there was one thing standing in the way of the relationship — she found herself constantly comparing Boruch to Chaim. Sarah’s mentor told her that the comparison would naturally fade as she grew to appreciate and focus on Boruch, and the two soon became engaged. But now, a few months into her marriage, Sarah still finds herself comparing Boruch to her perception of Chaim — especially when Boruch’s middos or behavior come up short. How does she fight the feeling that she “could have done better”?

Actually, this theme tends to come up in various ways throughout our lives — most of us constantly compare ourselves to others. “If only I could be like her or have a job like him.” So when Sarah asks herself if she could have done better, what’s the answer? There are really two answers: The first is that everyone is on best behavior during a date, and you hardly get to meet the real person, even after ten or twenty dates. So Sarah is basing her assessment of Chaim on the beautiful image he portrayed on their dates together. She has no way of knowing what it would be like to live with Chaim — she is just conjecturing that he would be the perfect mate, compared to Boruch, with all his faults.

But in reality the question is based on a mistaken premise. Sarah assumes that because (at least in her mind) Chaim has beautiful middos, she would be happier had she married him. And that is a fundamental error. I think it would be easier for me to explain this with a mashal.

Imagine you have a wedding coming up. It’s a big affair, and you want to look your best. You go shopping and find the perfect outfit. It’s affordable, it looks great — it’s even tzniyusdig. You buy it. There’s only one thing missing, the right pair of shoes. You start looking, but you just can’t find the right pair. You start to get desperate. Finally, the day before the wedding you stop into Macy’s, and in the clearance section you see the most gorgeous pair of shoes. “Oh, my goodness, they’re perfect. The leather is exquisite. The workmanship is outstanding. And the best part — it’s on clearance. Fifty percent off. Wow!”

There’s only one problem — the shoes are two sizes too small. “But look, I can’t just leave them — they’re so cute.” So you buy them, take them home, and wear them to the wedding. After the wedding (and two hours of dancing) you come home, take them off, and your feet are killing you! Because the leather can be great, the workmanship fantastic, but if the shoe doesn’t fit, it’s going to hurt.

This is analogous to marriage. Before you were born, Hashem chose the perfect counterpart for you — with his strengths balancing against your weaknesses, and your strengths balancing against his.

A marriage is a complex weave of needs, emotions, and temperaments. Some personalities mesh, some class. To find the right match of two individuals who come from different homes, and have vastly different natures and dispositions, requires the wisdom of — well, the wisdom of our Creator. And that’s the point. Hashem chose the right one for you. You fit together hand-in-glove. And while he may not be the best bochur in Lakewood — he is the best one for you. Could you have done better? Maybe — but better doesn’t mean a better marriage, and better doesn’t mean that you would be happy together.

 CASE 5 >> Getting the Spark Back

Adina holds a part-time job while finishing her degree in the evenings, in addition to caring for one-year-old Chezky. Her husband Shimmy is learning in two kollelim and also tutors in the evenings, often coming home after 10 p.m. One day Adina comments, a bit ruefully, “We’re like passing ships in the night — a far cry from dating and shanah rishonah. And what happens when our family grows?” Shimmy agrees that they’ve lost a certain spark. With their busy lives, is it even practical for them to recover it, or do they wait till middle age to nurture their relationship again?

If I had to pinpoint probably the biggest problem in young marriages, this scenario would be it. As life gets hectic, very often the relationship falls by the wayside. Many people think this is normal and expected, but they’re wrong. If Adina thinks her relationship can be put on hold until middle age, she’s making a fatal mistake — one that might cost her marriage.

The glue of marriage is love. Humans have such varying temperaments that it takes a major force to keep them together; without that superglue, they could never stay together. If there is a climate of love in the marriage, then whatever life throws at them, they can find a way to get through it. If there isn’t that climate, then in the heavy traffic of life, feathers get ruffled, feelings get hurt, and each one feels like the victim of a raw deal, and inevitably the bickering and bitterness takes over.

But even more pointedly, if there is a bond of love between them and he does something wrong — it’s okay. He’s a good guy with a flaw. But if there isn’t a bond of love active and vibrant between them, then he never did anything good in his life. And even the one thing he does half well he can’t get right.

Therefore, it’s paramount for a marriage to have love, and the only way to achieve it is by spending time together as a couple. At the very minimum, there should be special time allocated once a week, no matter what. This has to be a priority. If the couple doesn’t nurture the spark, it will fizzle out.

We don’t say we’re too busy to sit in a succah, or eat matzah. In the same way, we can’t say we’re too busy to spend time with our spouses. If you think this is an exaggeration, just take one small fight between a husband and wife and analyze how many aveiros occur in that short space: ona’as devarim, lashon hara, not to mention throwing the Shechinah out of the home — and that’s just during a small tiff. A couple has a chiyuv to work on their marriage, even if they are excessively busy. There is no substitute.

But I want to make one thing clear: When a couple spends time together it means that the couple preferably goes out, alone, with no agenda. No discussions about the kids, or finances, or in-law problems. They just go out to have a good time and enjoy each other’s company, recapturing that feeling of when they were chassan and kallah.

In shanah rishonah, there’s lot of talking and connection-building, but it shouldn’t stop afterwards. Marriage is about constant work, and a huge part of it is working on the attachment and the bond between the couple. This is, in fact, the easiest fix for so many marriages. I have personally seen marriages turn around completely just from the couple committing to a fixed date night.

 

 CASE 6 >> Money Counts

If you ask Golda and Shmuel what the worst word in the English language could possibly be, they’ll simultaneously tell you, “Money!” While they see eye-to-eye on most other issues, when it comes to money they are polar opposites. Golda is as thrifty as they come, while Shmuel likes to “live a little.” Living on a tight budget, the tension sometimes stretches so much it threatens to snap altogether. “I never get my needs met,” Shmuel sulks. “Neither do I,” Golda says glaring, pointing to their overdraft.

Most people think that couples fight about issues: money, in-laws, or the setting on the thermostat. But it isn’t true. Couples never fight about issues. All they fight about is one thing only: their feelings behind the issue. The real problem is what Golda feels about Shmuel spending a lot of money — and vice versa. This is a key point, because in truth, reasonable people can find reasonable solutions to any type of problem. So why is it that very often in a marriage, otherwise reasonable people fail to act reasonably? It all goes back to this principle: it is about the feelings, not the issue. And when we’re hurt, we become very unreasonable.

In this case, both Golda and Shmuel are hurting, and not because of the money. Rather, it’s the feelings they harbor: You don’t care about me. You’re not considering my needs.

Of course, the second part of the problem — the actual money — also needs to be dealt with. Any couple that doesn’t budget is making a big mistake, even if they have a million-dollar annual income. A couple that has difficulty in this area should seek guidance from the various organizations available today, or from older, wiser friends or family members who can give them the tools for achieving financial awareness and stability.

But back to the key issue: Once Golda and Shmuel understand that it’s not about the money, but rather about their feelings behind it, each needs to focus on where the other spouse is coming from. Here I introduce the two most important words in a marriage. No, it’s not “Thank you” or “You’re wonderful.” It’s these words: “That’s strange.”

Golda needs to say to herself, “Shmuel spends considerably more than we earn, all the while knowing that we will have an overdraft. That’s strange. He’s a very smart, savvy person in other areas.…” This enables her to open her mind to try to understand Shmuel’s conspicuously erratic behavior. For his part, Shmuel needs to look at his wife and say, “Hmm … she’s usually kind, sweet, and happy, but when it comes to spending she flies off the handle. That’s strange. Why does she react so strongly? I wonder what’s going on with that.…” This will help each of them understand where the other person is coming from. It will also prevent the dismissiveness that causes hurt feelings to fester, prolonging fights and resentment.

When Golda and Shmuel allow each other to speak openly and respectfully about their feelings behind money, they can work toward a mutually beneficial solution. They might not always get their way, but at least they’re working from a place of reasonableness, amicability, and mutual validation, which allows for much more flexibility and compromise.


CHANGING YOUR LIFE

Every wedding begins with the signing of the tena’im, and then the kesubah. There is, however, one more document that has not yet been instituted — a shtar hachlafah, a “document of change.” In Rabbi Shafier’s view, it would go a long way toward helping marriages succeed.

I, the undersigned, do hereby proclaim the following:

  1. I recognize that the basis for a successful marriage is my ability to change.
  2. I acknowledge that my spouse will be different from me in temperament, inclinations, attitudes, desires, backgrounds, and interests.
  3. I accept that for any partnership to exist there must be compromise, and that I must be willing to change in many areas.

By signing, I hereby acknowledge that I am ready, willing, and able to change, grow, and compromise in all areas.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Issue 484)

 

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A Home without Harmony https://mishpacha.com/a-home-without-harmony/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=a-home-without-harmony https://mishpacha.com/a-home-without-harmony/#respond Tue, 22 Nov 2011 22:00:00 +0000 http://mishpacha.com/?p=2838 Whether you’re in a troubled marriage or your marriage simply has a few troubles, it can dramatically impact your child’s development. Practical ways to diffuse marital tension — and create a safer, happier home for your family.

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ere’s news that may not surprise you: Children thrive when their parents are in a happy marriage. Among other things, they grow up feeling emotionally secure, and leave home with a positive marriage model.

How much are kids impacted if their parents don’t fall into this happy matrimony category? The equation, say researchers, looks something like this: The greater the conflict between parents (married or divorced), the greater the dysfunction in their kids both during childhood and when they mature. As a result of marital discord, children typically exhibit more emotional and behavioral problems, more learning problems, and more relationship problems (see sidebar, “The Consequences of Conflict.”). The general hierarchy of repercussions can be broken down as follows:

  1. The best developmental outcome occurs when children grow up with happily married parents. These kids have the greatest emotional stability and least social, intellectual, emotional, and behavioral problems throughout life.
  2. The next-best scenario for children is an intact home that’s stable, functional, and respectful, if not exactly warm and loving.
  3. A child’s development is compromised in the presence of regular marital friction.
  4. Divorce presents a serious developmental challenge, particularly when it’s antagonistic.
  5. A home that’s intact, but violent, poses the greatest threat to a child’s development.

An increasingly popular parenting belief today is that “the kids are happy when their parents are happy.” But, as these findings reveal, the parents’ happiness is not the most important factor for a child’s wellbeing. Fact is, kids are usually less concerned about their parents’ emotional state than they are about figuring out their own lives and facing their day-to-day challenges. Growing up with stability and security, even in a home in which the parents are not particularly thrilled with each other, does more good for a child’s development than swapping homes between two separate, but happier, parents (provided that the marital home was not characterized by physical aggression).

Even in intact frum homes, the unfortunate reality today is that trouble in marriage is becoming increasingly common. And “troubled marriages” — which are defined as ones with high levels of interpersonal stress — are relatively common as well.

It’s not always possible for a person to give his or her children the gift of growing up in the midst of a wonderful marriage because a relationship is not totally within one person’s control. You have a spouse to contend with — and also yourself, with all of the baggage and childhood wounds that often dictate how you instinctively act and react to stressful situations.

Nonetheless, there are certain things that you can do to minimize the damaging effects of a troubled marriage — and maximize the positive potential of your relationship.

Love Is a Verb

Let’s say you’re in a “lukewarm” marriage (the second category). There’s basic respect between you and your husband, but little or no true affection. You each care intensely for the children and shower love and affection upon them, yet you hold back from acting in loving ways toward each other. Whereas you buy lavish presents for your children’s birthdays, you often fail to acknowledge each other’s, except to give token gifts that lack thought.

Your kids can tell; they feel the emptiness. In such a situation, children might fail to learn the mechanics of building and maintaining strong, loving bonds. When they enter into marriages of their own, their partners may complain that they’re cold and distant.

Even in this type of “lukewarm” marriage, your kids can still learn essential interpersonal skills and positive concepts about marriage. How? In order to teach your children how to love, you don’t actually have to feel strong affection for your spouse. Love, after all, is not just a feeling you experience inside your head and heart. It’s also a verb. It means doing actions of love.

It seems counterintuitive, but even if your husband never responds to your loving gestures, your own behavior can still provide an adequate educational model for your children. This holds true even if your spouse is completely dysfunctional or disturbed. If your kids can see at least one good parenting model, they have a very real chance of growing into healthy adults. On the other hand, if your kids see two dysfunctional, disturbed parents, those chances are far more compromised.

To show your children how love is conveyed, focus on verbs. For instance, to show kindness to your spouse, look for small ways to help out. “You look tired; do you want me to finish putting the kids to bed?” Whether you’re feeling it or not, act with generosity. When your husband randomly mentions how a small item would make his life easier, buy it for him as a “just because” gift. Be an attentive, empathetic listener when your spouse relays stories of aggravation or pain. To express appreciation and/or admiration, offer praise to your husband out loud.

Despite cool feelings, find ways to show affection. This can include anything from smiling to making an occasional reference to happier moments, such as “Remember that trip we took after we got married? I loved that place we stayed at.” Finally, focus on making a good impression. Dress and groom yourself nicely at home, and try to conduct yourself in a pleasant, respectful way, as you might do in a work environment.

By acting in these loving ways, you’ll provide a good model for your children and, at the same time, increase the likelihood that your spouse will act in more positive ways toward you.

Be the Role Model

What happens when parents (whether married or divorced) regularly bicker, argue, and fight? Certainly, their children are exposed to a skills deficit. When spouses raise their voices, insult each other, make ugly threats, and throw fits of temper, they fail to teach their children how to respectfully negotiate differences of opinion, accidental wounding, disappointment, frustration, and other routine marital challenges.

Every couple will be constantly bombarded with issues that require resolution: decisions regarding the daily activities, problems with division of labor in the house, parenting dilemmas, and challenges connected to finances, in-laws, religious activities, communal affairs, guests, vacations — you name it. The list of potential areas of disagreement, difference of opinion, and conflict is endless and continuous. And when parents fight about these issues, they teach their kids how to fight.

If your spouse is the combative one in your relationship, you can still make a big impact on your kids by teaching them how to quickly quell conflict. You have the ability to demonstrate how to successfully avoid, end, or redirect an invitation to fight. As an example, consider these two dialogues:

Angry husband to wife: “Why do you have to argue with everything I say?!”

Wife’s retort: “You’re the one arguing all the time. You just don’t know when to stop talking!”

Versus:           

Angry husband to wife: “Why do you have to argue with everything I say?!”

Wife’s response: “You know what, you’re right. There’s no need for me to argue. I’m sorry. I hear what you’re saying and you’ve actually got a point.”

The second dialogue illustrates the Torah principle of “run from conflict as you would flee from a fire.” The main goal is to end the fight. Issues of who’s right and who’s wrong become irrelevant in the face of an agenda to seek and pursue peace. This doesn’t mean, however, that deflection is always the appropriate response to a partner’s abusive behavior. Another possible ending to the above scenario could be this one:

Wife’s response: “I’d like to finish this discussion another time. Let’s take a break for a bit.”

This form of exit is most appropriate when a spouse is escalating to a point that any further discussion could only become more toxic. Even if (in the above scenario) the upset husband just screamed louder in response to being “shut down,” the children would learn from their mother how important it is to refrain from participating in a fighting match.

Also note that the wife lets her husband know that she does want to finish the discussion, but at another, presumably calmer, time. She’s not ignoring him. By so behaving, the children learn that “discussions” should never occur at high volumes.

At times, the most appropriate way to handle conflict is to say nothing at all in the moment. This is most suitable when a spouse has become verbally abusive. Refraining from answering back to — or fanning the fires of — provocation then becomes the technique that is imparted to the children.

If the children have overheard or witnessed abuse, it’s imperative for them to learn that the parent on the receiving end of this sort of treatment is taking active steps to address the situation. This can be accomplished in several ways. One example is approaching a child later, saying something like, “You heard us fighting before, right? That must have been scary and uncomfortable for you. I just want you to know that we’re sorry to have upset you and we’re in the process of working on this. Hopefully, things like this will happen less and less until they stop happening altogether.”

Suppose you’re not the victim in a conflict scenario, but rather are the perpetrator. What if it’s you who’s always issuing the invitation to fight? This could happen because of the way you were raised and might just be a programmed response to inner stress. If so, you can still be the one to show the kids how to end conflict. It might sound like this:

Angry wife to husband: “Why do you have to argue with everything I say?”

Angry wife, catching herself in the moment: “I’m sorry. Please let me take that back. I’m just upset right now. I’ll talk to you about this later.”

In this example, kids learn that mistakes can be corrected. They learn that people can monitor themselves, repair their behavior, and choose a path of growth. Most importantly, they see that pursuing peace is far more important than proving one’s point.

Violence Is a Red Line

Hitting, slapping, punching, pushing, and blocking movement are all obvious acts of violence. But there are more subtle forms of aggression, too, such as angrily speeding out of the driveway, slamming the door, banging down the phone, throwing things, and even raising a hand as if to strike.

In homes where violence is a routine fact of life, children tend to be traumatized. Many suffer lifelong negative effects including severe emotional and relationship challenges. Children may become violent adults themselves and/or passive victims of abusive partners. One must do everything possible to prevent the disastrous consequences of growing up in an abusive household.

Even rare occasions of aggression can be damaging for children to witness or experience. Learning that a parent is capable of violence erodes the sense of trust and safety that is necessary for a child’s healthy development. When a child sees one parent assaulting or frightening the other, healthy feelings toward both parents may be compromised: the child can lose positive regard for the perpetrator and lose respect for the victim. Feelings of anger, desire for revenge, sadness, and fear may all follow exposure to parental violence.

That said, just as we’ve seen in less severe styles of dysfunction, one healthy spouse can make all the difference. Such a spouse can show children that violent and aggressive behavior is never acceptable in family life. He or she can also demonstrate regard for one’s own safety and value by refusing to accept mistreatment.

Ideally, the healthy parent will be able to take action at the first sign of abusive behavior. But even if that’s not the case, the mother, say, can still make a huge impact by standing up for herself (and ultimately, the children). For instance, in the midst of a violent act, she can say out loud: “This has to stop right now. We’re not solving our problems this way.” She can also give warnings: “If you don’t stop right now, I’ll have to leave the house with the children until you let me know that it’s safe for us to be here,” or “If you don’t stop this right now, I’ll have to call for help.”

You should also set limits in whatever way is appropriate in your situation. For instance, “I will no longer accept this sort of behavior in this house,” or “If this ever happens again, we (or you) will have to get help,” or “If this happens again, I’ll have to let your parents/rabbi/siblings know what’s going on.” The most important thing is for your children to see that violence is not to be tolerated.

It may not be possible to suddenly put an end to unhealthy marital cycles. What is possible, however, is to acknowledge to oneself that there is inevitable damage occurring to the children as long as there is excessive tension, negative energy, aggression, or violence occurring within the marriage. To help your kids thrive, it’s tremendously important to get professional help for yourself — and your children. If your kids are very young, an art therapist or play therapist might be more appropriate. (See sidebar, “Getting the Right Help.”)

For the Sake of the Kids

Parents who choose to sacrifice their own personal happiness to remain married “for the sake of the children” need to understand that just staying together — while a good beginning — is not good enough for your kids’ development. You also have to commit to being the “healthy” parent.

Your kids may not thank you right away for your hard work (nor even be aware of it), but they’ll be immensely grateful down the line. Take the case of a woman named Shifra*: “My father has always been a very difficult person. Now that I’m married myself, I often think about how hard it must have been all those years for my mother. In their day, couples didn’t go to counseling and very few people got divorced — people just ‘toughed it out.’

“But my mother did much more than that. She taught us so many valuable lessons. For instance, she never became bitter. You’d never hear her say things like, ‘I deserve better. Why did Hashem give me this to deal with?’ On the contrary, she’d say things like, ‘Hashem has a plan. Everything is for the good.’ And you could tell that she believed it. There was no physical abuse, so Mom never felt she had to resort to leaving the marriage. She felt that divorce was hard on children and wanted us to have a home. So she worked really hard to make it the best it could be despite everything.

“My parents worked with a rabbi for many years and things got calmer in our house. My mother showed us that with patience, courage, fortitude, trust in Hashem, and hard work, you can handle difficult situations. I learned from my mother what to do in marriage, and, from my father, what not to do. But I also learned from my father that people can change and improve all throughout life. Although I wish that Hashem had given me an easier childhood, I can see that — like my mother says — it’s all for the good. I use everything I learned in my parents’ house to make my own home the beautiful home it is today.”

Some people are blessed with an easy partner and an easy marriage; others are not. Since no one sets out on purpose to have a difficult life, the difficulties are obviously orchestrated by Hashem. Your job is to do the best you can given the circumstances. This may mean that you end up doing all of the hard work in your marriage. Admittedly, it seems a little unfair. You might wonder, “Why should I work so hard on my marriage when my husband does nothing?” Look into your children’s eyes and you’ll find the answer.


The Consequences of Conflict

Growing up in a home with strife, children typically endure a host of short- and long-term problems.

First, living in any kind of dysfunctional family is a shameful experience for a child. The kid always longs for a “normal” home, by which he means a happy, loving, healthy, safe, emotionally stable environment. A child tends to assume that everyone else has a normal home (which, of course, is not true) and, as a result, he feels isolated, alone, different, and even tainted. He keeps his situation a secret, never daring to reach out for help or understanding. He carries a private burden that nestles deeply inside his psyche, affecting his behavior, health, and emotions throughout the rest of his life — or until he actively heals the wounds through a therapeutic process.

Children in troubled marriages also experience high doses of stress. Chronic fighting, intense fighting, or any kind of fighting in earshot of a sensitive kid can overwhelm the child’s nervous system. This can manifest in behavioral problems, emotional “nervous” problems, health problems, sleeping problems, and academic problems. Sometimes, so much of a child’s mind is occupied with the tension at home that he cannot concentrate well at school. His teachers assume he has Attention Deficit Disorder when, in fact, he is highly distracted by internal psychological stress.

Worse, the kid himself feels flawed. He cannot understand why he feels sad, anxious, and overwhelmed. He knows that he’s not being beaten, that no one is drunk, that no terrible abuse is being perpetrated — yet he blames himself for being miserable because he doesn’t understand that he’s suffering from the normal effects of living in an emotionally toxic environment.

Kids living amidst a troubled marriage often work hard to distract or rescue their parents from conflict. They may become “parentified” — little parents to their own parents, trying to help them solve their marriage problems. This backward dynamic puts excessive strain on the psyche of children, one that is only aggravated by the parenting deficits that might already be in play.

Spouses living in a troubled marriage often have insufficient attention or energy for parenting tasks. In pain themselves, they cannot always meet the emotional needs of their children. Sometimes the kids respond by trying to be “perfect.” They hope to receive some attention and validation for being helpful, for doing well in school and sometimes, for offering help and support to their battle-worn parents. All of this striving is unnatural for a child, straining his own emotional resources.

Young children are particularly prone to taking responsibility for the tension in the home; they reason “it’s my fault,” or “it’s because I didn’t go to bed on time.” If the parents are fighting about parenting issues, it’s all the more likely for kids of every age to feel responsible for the trouble in the marriage. Very often, a child reaches adulthood before he realizes that he wasn’t to blame for his parents’ difficult relationship.


Getting the Right Help

Did you know that many social workers, counselors, psychologists, and psychiatrists have absolutely no training in marital counseling? Although well intentioned, such people may actually harm your marriage rather than strengthen it. Similarly, not all marital therapists feel strongly about the importance of maintaining marriage for a lifetime. So before signing up for marriage therapy or individual counseling to discuss relationship issues, find out what sort of training the therapist has.

 (Originally featured in Family First Issue 267)

The post A Home without Harmony first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

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