To Save My Marriage, I Had to Let Go of Trying

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I often find myself reflecting on my childhood and how it shaped my views on marriage. My parents’ divorce made me believe that a successful marriage was just a matter of effort. I witnessed their endless attempts to make things work—apologies followed by reconciliations, followed by tense moments filled with arguments and eventually, a temporary peace. They would plan date nights and surprise each other with gifts, all while reminding us kids that “marriage takes work” and “forgiveness is key.” I thought this cycle would never end. But it did.

Their struggle made me determined to avoid the same fate. I threw myself into my own marriage, convinced that if I worked hard enough, I could make it succeed. I spent years perfecting my role as a wife. I cooked, cleaned, and even packed cute lunches with little notes like “Thanks for being our rock!” Sounds sweet, right?

But I soon realized I was placing the weight of our marriage’s success squarely on my shoulders. Initially, it felt like it was working. I would have dinner ready when my husband, Mark, returned home from work, and I organized at-home date nights with handwritten invites. He appreciated my efforts, and that motivated me to keep going. If he noticed my efforts, surely that meant we were on the right track.

Then came the baby. Suddenly, being the “perfect” wife felt impossible. Mark would come home to find dirty diapers scattered around, and I’d look like a zombie in my oversized T-shirt. But it wasn’t just my appearance that faltered; my emotional well-being took a nosedive. The baby cried at all hours, and I felt like I was failing at everything. I convinced myself that if I didn’t “figure her out,” our marriage was doomed. I even read books promising that babies love their daddies too, hoping that knowledge would somehow ease my stress.

The tipping point came during a heated argument. As we bickered, I found myself shouting that I was doing everything I could to make our marriage work but it still felt insufficient. What did he want? Better dinners? More money? A cleaner house? More intimacy? To my surprise, he simply wanted me to stop trying so hard. In my quest for perfection, I had created distance between us. Instead of enjoying moments together, I was too busy fretting over the toys lying around and isolating myself from friends. This only led to feelings of loneliness and jealousy when he shared stories of his social life.

These days, our marriage isn’t perfect, but I’ve learned to let go of the need to be flawless. I still slip little notes into his lunch, but now I ask for his help if I’m swamped. If I want to unwind with another episode of my favorite show, I no longer stress about the dishes—they can wait until he gets home. By relinquishing control, I’ve rediscovered the deep love I felt for Mark nearly a decade ago—love that exists without the pressure of impressing him with elaborate meals or constant perfection. He reassures me that we won’t follow in my parents’ footsteps.

If you’re navigating the complexities of marriage or parenthood, you might find some inspiration in our post about home insemination—it’s a journey worth exploring. And for those looking for expert advice, check out this helpful resource on pregnancy and home insemination.

In summary, I learned that trying too hard can sometimes push us away from the very thing we want to hold onto the most. Embracing imperfection has allowed me to reconnect with my partner and find joy in our relationship once again.