When I fight with my husband, the pain I feel has nothing to do with him.

There are a few recurring themes in my fights with my husband.

When I remember to divert my thoughts from what is wrong with him, or from putting him down in retaliation for my pain, and instead I actually look at what my pain tells me about me, the themes emerge quite clearly.

It always comes to the same core issues for me: feeling that all the pressure of life is on me, and questions of betrayal.

​I feel betrayed not from him cheating. I never doubted his loyalty in the 34 years of our marriage.

I keep feeling betrayed when after 34 years of marriage he is still stubbornly himself.

I am frustrated that some of his patterns are still there and I stumble over them time and time again. I feel alone and unloved when he is still not the way I need him to be, because I assume that my fears and worries come from his not changing.

I bet each one of you reading this can relate.

A lot of my work with clients comes down to this: distinguishing what is mine and what is not mine when relating to others. What is my responsibility and what is not my responsibility in relationships with others. And what we can expect from our partners and what we cannot expect.

Our latest fight happened on the flight back to Mexico yesterday. It echoed a horrible fight in Sicily just a few weeks ago.

Writing in my journal about it, I was amazed that nothing has changed.

And I notice how the change I crave I want to have come from him.

How I need him to change for me to feel better, disregarding all of my own teaching and knowing that no one can give me a feeling. Whatever I feel was there before.

So then why do I need him to change for me to feel safer in life? And instead what is it that I need to change on my side of the pattern in order to shift the whole dynamic?

I forget this because of “that feeling.” An old feeling of dread or maybe despair.

That despair is much older than my marriage. Maybe even older than my life.

I feel despair when my interaction with my husband brings me to “that feeling.” Yes, “that feeling.” It’s a feeling I’ve carried with me for a very long time. Maybe since childhood, maybe longer.

It’s a combination of loneliness, helplessness, and unfairness.

It is very familiar, but clearly not who I am today. This is my inner child.

When I return to that place – after all the effort to break out through achievement, trying to be a good person, to do everything right – when I still find myself in that place of helplessness and inadequacy it causes despair. I am STILL here? I don’t want to be back here!

My stomach hurts. It’s so unfair. I don’t deserve this.

And when I see these words on paper of my tear-stained journal page – something clicks, and I snap out and I write:

I’m here for you!

I am here. No one knows how you feel and what you went through, but I do. I know how hard you try to be good. How you want to break out of that feeling. You do not have to do or be anything other than who you are right now. You are already safe. You are already loved. I see you and I know how courageous you are. And you know what? The universe sees you, too.

I notice a relief in my body. The tears dry up. The stomach tension eases and I notice hunger. I haven’t eaten yet! I haven’t nurtured the baby and now she is having a full meltdown.

I mother myself. I give some more kind words of unconditional positive regard and a nutritious meal I packed for the plane.

The inner child calms and I write: It’s when he treats me as an enemy after everything that I did for us – that is what hurts!

As I see these words in black ink against white paper, another voice chimes in: Whatever I did, I did it for myself! I did it for my girls, for my family. Everything I did was my choice – sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious. But I am no victim. I am nobody’s victim.

As these more mature parts of me come online, I am able to return to the present moment. I see that I keep wanting him to change so that I never feel “that feeling” again.

And then I see how blaming him for my feeling is what keeps me stuck. “That feeling” was in me way before he came into my life.

Just like what triggers him sends him into his inner child, what triggers me brings out mine.

And when we are both in that dark wounded place – it is hard to find connection. In fact, connection is impossible if we are both re-enacting the past, because we are no longer fighting each other, but disempowering energies from the past.

And that is what feels like a betrayal: the way he “turns” on me. And here too, I know the wound is much older. My father was loving and abusive and loving and abusive. And I never knew which one he would be next.

And these few recurring themes in our conflicts always take me there. To a place deeply buried within, the one I do not like to visit. But visit it I must. Because when I am thrusted there via conflict – I am able to see that although my wounds may never go away completely, I am not that helpless, powerless little girl anymore.

I have so much evidence now: I’ll survive anything.

Because I am not alone. The universe takes such good care of me. Always bringing me exactly where I need to go but would rather not – into what hurts, the soft, the messy, the imperfect, the human.

I am still learning to live life as a regular human and be okay with that.

Learning to not be disgusted and disappointed by humanity in my fellow human partner, fellow humans all around me.

Yes, I so wish he’d be more like me. So much would feel easier.

And yet he persists as himself. And therein lies my lesson: because his remaining himself continues to bring me face-to-face with that which I despise in myself. And the purpose of life is to remember who I am. To come to wholeness. Which means I must continue integrating all the parts of me that I have discarded long ago as undesirable.

And that is why I call relationships laboratories for growth. Not to thrust us into comfortable oblivion, but to jolt us into awareness and growth.

PS: 2025 is around the corner! Step into the New Year with greater understanding of yourself and what you bring into your relationships.

Grab your 30-days 1-1 Experience with me to break a recurring pattern that keeps you stuck. It takes 21 days to break a habit. We’ll have 30 days together to focus on and shift your specific relating pattern. I will help you see your side in your relating dynamic, and what you can start doing now to bring about the changes you desire.

Find more details and sign up ​here​ or simply schedule your free introductory zoom call here. During this no-strings-attached introductory conversation we can see if working together is a good fit, and how I may be of service to you.

PPS: Last week seems to have been highly emotionally charged for everyone. For my US readers, the election intensified the overall tension. A few people have reached out to me to see how I was coping and for some guidance. I answered via a FB Live in one of my groups and then made a Youtube post out of it. If interested, watch it here.