Holding Space vs. Waiting

I recently read a post in a Facebook group that really hit home. It was about the difference between holding space and waiting when you’re in a relationship with someone going through a midlife crisis.

The author explained that waiting often looks like pacing by the window, checking your phone obsessively, hoping for a call or text. In contrast, holding space has nothing to do with expectations. It’s about tending to your own growth—focusing on becoming who you want to be—while your partner navigates their own storm.

I’m getting a tough lesson in that tonight.

My husband left earlier this evening—without saying goodbye. I was in another room, and I suspect he chose that moment deliberately, so I wouldn’t ask for a hug or kiss. I knew he’d probably go out; he usually does on Wednesdays. But what surprised me was the complete disregard for how that exit would make me feel. I tried calling as soon as I realized he was gone, but he didn’t answer. I tried again later—he sent me to voicemail with a quick, “I’ll call you later.” He hasn’t called.

 Now comes the part I dread most: wondering if he’ll even come home tonight.
Sometimes, especially on Wednesdays, he doesn’t. I know where he is—at a casino where he gets comped hotel rooms—but I don’t know who he’s with, if anyone. That’s where the fear creeps in. He used to take me there. Now, he rarely even asks.

Still, I’ve made progress. I’m getting better at holding space. I don’t spiral the way I used to, and my anxiety is more manageable, thanks in part to medication. I try to focus on other things—chores, games, TV shows, phone calls. But nighttime is the hardest. I’ve struggled with insomnia for years, and it gets worse when he’s not home. After midnight, even with medication, my anxiety ramps up. My doctor eventually prescribed sleeping pills. Now, I take them almost every Wednesday.

I know I can’t rely on medication forever. And I know I have more work to do when it comes to truly holding space instead of waiting. But I’m learning. And on nights like this, when it feels especially hard, I remind myself that showing up for myself is also an act of love.