Let me first summarize these three letters, as all three raise similar yet distinct points.
Letter 1: It’s hard to surrender control when my husband seems irresponsible or lacks the necessary wisdom.
Letter 2: If my husband and I are working toward a common goal, why can’t I also have a say in what that goal is and how to get there?
Letter 3: I try to be a good wife, but don’t feel fulfilled — meanwhile, my husband takes me for granted.
The issue of boundaries, raised in the second letter, is something I often discuss, as I feel it is key to understanding the fundamentals of relationships. Therefore, I’d like to start the discussion there.
In a nutshell, relationship dynamics play out in three different spheres: mine, yours, and ours. Even (and especially) in marriage, where the bond is unlike any other, each spouse still has areas that are their own. Decisions that a spouse makes in their own sphere are theirs to make. While the other spouse can provide input in the tone of a suggestion or request, input should not evolve into intervention and certainly not control.
For the husband, his personal sphere concerns such things as which shul to daven in; for the wife, it could mean which dress to buy for a simchah — there are, of course, many more examples. While the Torah is clear that the husband is the head of the household and sets the general tone in the home, this does not mean that he should control his wife’s own personal sphere.
In areas where they are both affected (such as the chinuch of their children, where to live, and so forth), both spouses have a right to hold and express an opinion and they should discuss any areas of disagreement, calmly and respectfully.
The question is: What happens when, after discussing an issue that falls in “their” sphere, husband and wife still don’t agree? Who will give way to whom?
It’s interesting to note that the outside world seems to be grappling with this question, too, and that even a non-Jewish writer such as the author of The Surrendered Wife managed to grasp a basic principle: Someone needs to be boss. In any case, regardless of what secular wisdom or intelligence may come up with, the Torah tells us that this person is the husband. That doesn’t mean that he may be a dictator; it means that he sets the direction for the household.
This can be a very hard concept to swallow, and it’s legitimate and understandable that women may find it difficult to surrender control to their husbands. Who said it’s supposed to be easy? Many things in life are not. But that doesn’t mean that one can’t find ways to make the path smoother.
Many well-intentioned people have their own ideas regarding how to smooth out that path. The writer of the second letter mentions a cute catchphrase coined by one: “Every woman wants more than anything to follow her husband; she just wants him to lead her in a path she trusts.” If only the husband will do everything right, how easy it will be for the wife to let him lead! But let’s just translate this catchphrase into simple language: “Every woman wants to ‘follow’ her husband as long as she decides where they’re going.”
The writer is honest enough to conclude: “If that sounds like an attempt at control — well, it might be.” Yes, it is. Implicit in the statement is that she knows best, but what if she doesn’t? (Does the husband then have the right to turn the phrase around at her?)
The writer of the first letter provides some enlightening examples of what it can mean to trust one’s husband even when it feels so wrong, so let’s address one of the scenarios she describes, where the husband is driving in a manner she feels is reckless. Here’s what many may feel is a classic example of where the wife should take back control in order to avert disaster.
And yet... she doesn’t describe a car accident — not even one. I’m not condoning dangerous driving, but “dangerous” is subjective. If she’s genuinely fearful of an accident, she has the option of saying, “I’m really sorry, but I feel unsafe. Would you mind stopping so I can get out?” It might get the message through that his driving is truly reckless; then again, it might not. Meanwhile, she’s doing what she can, in a respectful manner, and accepting that this is the kind of driver her husband is. She doesn’t have to like it, but there may be aspects of her personality that he doesn’t like, either.
Backing down and recognizing that there may be more than one acceptable way of doing things is very hard for many people. Sometimes, it helps to make a cost-benefit analysis of the situation. Is it worth the emotional torment of arguing over his driving every single time they go out, if he’s in any case not going to change? She may even be right, but it’s just not helping.
This unwillingness to stretch to accommodate another person’s way of thinking lies behind so many domestic disputes that bring people to therapy. It’s not uncommon to find a couple in a therapist’s office arguing over an “unjustified” household expense that costs far less than the therapy session discussing it. Our Torah leaders show us a different way of doing things:
Rav Nissim Karelitz was once learning with a talmid when a commotion disturbed them. A neighbor was knocking at the door; when the rebbetzin opened, the rav and talmid overheard the woman complaining loudly about “the rav’s painting his apartment last week caused a blockage in our pipes, and it costs 600 shekels to fix!”
Without a word, the rav got up, took money from a drawer, and handed it to his wife to give to the neighbor. Then he returned to his sefer and talmid. The talmid, however, was too taken aback to simply resume learning. “Rebbe,” he said, “you didn’t even question the amount, or anything!”
Rav Nissim shrugged. “It’s true that the paint used in Israel doesn’t usually clog pipes. Moreover, our pipes aren’t connected to those of this particular neighbor, so there’s no way that painting our apartment would cause her any problems. And, as a matter of fact, we didn’t do any painting recently.”
Far from having his dilemma solved, the talmid was even more confused, but the rav concluded: “It’s worth 600 shekels to keep on good terms with one’s neighbor. It’s not worth arguing.”
This anecdote refers to a single issue in a less complex relationship than marriage. It’s often easier to see things clearly from a distance; in marriage, the emotional involvement clouds our thinking. But we can overcome that, with effort.
Any relationship between husband and wife is multi-faceted. To take the marriage in the first letter as an example: The writer describes a husband who is a talmid chacham and masmid who keeps his hashkafos pure and Torah-based, who is willing to spend time with his wife and drive her places. The husband is also described as a somewhat reckless driver who isn’t intensely involved in the chinuch of their children. This is hardly a black-and-white situation, and most marriages are similar.
There’s a lot to respect in such a husband, and it’s a tragedy when the wife allows a single aspect of his personality to overshadow all his positive qualities. And even though he isn’t “into” chinuch classes or books, that doesn’t mean that she can’t take full advantage of his Torah-grounded perspective on chinuch issues and consult with him when he comes home on the issues that arose throughout the day. Yes, he may not be available very often, but that doesn’t mean that decisions always have to be postponed until he comes home, and there’s no suggestion that this is something that he demands in any case.
How does one respect such a husband? It starts by “behaving” respectfully: speaking to him in a respectful tone of voice; discussing issues with him; taking his feedback into account. And respect also means showing the children that their father’s views are what set the direction in the home.
But more than that — one respects such a husband by acknowledging that his views are valid and must be taken into account even when one doesn’t agree with them, and by admitting that he might just be right even if you’re sure he’s wrong.
I’m not denying that it’s often hard, even very hard, to implement this. Almost every married person can provide a list of problem areas where they don’t see eye-to-eye with their spouse. In all such cases, someone has to give way. Even if you’re the one giving way and feeling a certain satisfaction in doing so, it can still hurt if your spouse doesn’t appreciate your surrender, as seems to be the case with the writer of the third letter. She’s discussed, requested, debated, and then given up; meanwhile, her husband apparently takes her acquiescence for granted.
What I would advise in such a situation is for her to continue doing what she has been doing for years — making peace with the situation — but also, quietly and respectfully tell her husband what she is doing and why. He may never fully appreciate how hard it is for her, but it is likely that he will begin to understand that she is surrendering control for his sake and for the sake of their shalom bayis, which could improve as a consequence. I hope none of the above made it sound like I was suggesting otherwise, but let me clarify: Certainly a husband should take his wife’s wishes into account in such a shared area as where to spend Yom Tov, and the spouse who “gets his way” should appreciate the “giving way” of the other.
As for her other arguments about not feeling fulfilled in the role of Yiddishe wife and mother, that’s a great shame, and not unique in any way to women. There are, unfortunately, plenty of men who don’t feel fulfilled in learning Torah or davening with a minyan three times a day. There are even frumme Yidden who don’t feel fulfilled in being Yidden. The only sensible thing to do in such a situation is reinforce our belief in the importance of the mission and constantly remind ourselves of it.
And, being a happy and proud Yiddishe Mamme doesn’t mean one never leaves the house; certainly if the husband’s help is needed for his wife to take a break once in a while, he is obligated to provide it.
Many couples experience significant challenges in this area of gender roles, as the amount of feedback from articles and shiurim on this topic testifies. There is also a great deal of misunderstanding in this area, leading to some couples living essentially parallel lives in the same home. This is not what the Torah intends for us.
While we must respect each other’s boundaries, the areas shared by husband and wife are many and present us with ongoing opportunities to discuss, debate, and come to respectful decisions. Validating another’s opinion when we strongly disagree and perhaps even fail to understand where they are coming from is actually the essence of what respect means. It’s hard, but it’s vital if we want to live together in harmony.
Rarely, however, are our choices as black-and-white as they sometimes seem. There are many ways to come to an agreement, beyond one person surrendering to another. Sometimes, a smile, a compliment, a willingness to listen achieve more than sharp debate. We aren’t setting out to manipulate our spouses to get our way; what we want to reach is a unity of purpose, and what that involves, at the deepest level, is something very hard to do: Admit that we might just be wrong, or at least that there often is more than one “right.”
