When the Work Feels One-Sided

I’ve been working my way through The Empowered Wife, and I’ll admit—parts of it challenge me deeply. Sometimes it feels as though the book is saying that every problem in my marriage is mine to fix, that if I just change myself enough, he’ll be kind and open again.

But here’s the thing: I am the same woman he chose years ago. The same voice he once couldn’t get enough of is now, apparently, too much. One of his complaints is that I talk too much—but I talked this much from the beginning. In fact, our very first conversation is what drew him in.

The truth is, he’s changed too. He used to be more open. Now, I find myself navigating half-truths, quiet lies, and even bold-faced lies. I believe he’s in the throes of a midlife crisis. I say that with compassion; I went through my own years ago, in my first marriage. I know the storm of it—the confusion, the unraveling, the ache of not knowing who you are anymore. And if that’s where he is, there’s nothing I can do but wait and tend to myself.

That’s the part I do agree with: self-care. Every book on loving someone through a midlife crisis says the same thing—be the ruler of your own happiness. Be the lighthouse. Hold steady. Eventually, if and when he’s ready, he may find his way back to shore.

Where I get stuck is the idea of silence and deference. Keeping my opinions to myself feels unnatural, even repressive. I’ve learned the hard way that resentment can rot love from the inside out.

I also wrestle with the notion that this isn’t manipulative. We may not be controlling directly, but we are changing our behavior in hopes of getting a different response. That’s human. But if our hearts aren’t fully in it—or if we’re doing it solely to get something from him—it can slide into self-betrayal.

And then there’s the question that lingers beneath it all:

What if your husband’s pain has nothing to do with you?
What if his wounds are older than your marriage?
What if no amount of softness or surrender can reach the part of him that refuses to heal?

You can’t fix a man’s brokenness by breaking yourself smaller.

So maybe the invitation here isn’t to change for him—but to grow for yourself. To become more grounded, more peaceful, more whole. Because when you tend to your own light, you not only illuminate your own path—you become a safe harbor, too.

Just don’t lose yourself in the process.